Ah, another day in paradise. I
sit here on the couch in complete silence….that silence is because the
electricity is out. No worries, I paid the bill and everything. I have an extra
kid again. Cyndi is here for the weekend. She is such a good kid, I can’t
understand why her parents let her hang out at my house.
Busy week, I had surgery
Monday that has left me “unable to perform”….You really never realize how much
you use your hand until it’s useless. Oh, and it’s my right hand… my everything
hand. I told Jeremy that I would have starved to death if I hadn’t had a left
hand. I now know the sorrow of losing the use of my hand, thank goodness it is
only temporary. I feel you weeping for me…I accept your tears.
My first thoughts on Tuesday
morn were “fuck my hand hurts” and “where did all this vomit come from?” In my
house the vomit thing isn’t a big deal. All of the inhabitants (6) have their
own vomit pan. Each pan has been labeled with their name, and decorated if they
so desire. When one lives in prison-like conditions (overcrowded, random
population, different skills and such) when an illness such as the dreaded
“dirty bubble” strikes, it can be devastating.
Generally the first one to
show signs is isolated from the general population. Said person is provided
with medication, drink, and something like solitary confinement except with
windows. They are considered ground zero. Now, Tuesday morning the vomit was so
impressive that I literally couldn’t believe it. IT WAS EVERYWHERE.
I started unlocking cells to
do a head count and realized it was the dogs…Great. How do you handle this
situation? Nettie was very sick and I had Jeremy to take her to the vet ASAP.
She was given a shot and by the end of the day everything was back to normal
except for the house. We had to wash everything. I mean couch cushions, rugs,
hardwood, linoleum, linens. I mean everything. The house smelled like Clorox
and Gain. All I could think of was contracting the foaming vomit virus through
my incision. I had it covered and it was casted but still, my luck isn’t really
great.
I have been out of touch for a
week. I miss my friends so much. Their interactions mean so much to me. I
wonder if they even know that I’m gone. Surely they have realized that the fat
girl who creaks, moans, and groans hasn’t spoken about how hot she is lately…for
real though. I miss everyone and hope see you soon.
Love,
Me.
