Well then, let's begin

This is not even my day. I hope it's ok, but I figure I should write this shit now, when I'm in it, so as to not avoid it any longer. I think I can write whatever I want, and plan on posting more fiction than fact, but for today, I need to type up some reality that hit me. I slipped up, and didn't post when Kurt started up this great idea. I had a good reason though.

I was 24 hours away from slipping into a coma by the time I was admitted to the intensive care ward of a local Long Island hosptial. I wouldn't find out the severity of the past statement until a week after I was discharged; told to my wife and I, by my new doctor (and odd endocronologist, a Pynchon-esque character of a man, brilliant , a new friend).

I am a diabetic with laser eyes and a bad disposition.

I have been tired for years. I have been cranky for years. I have woken up, 6 to 7 times a night and taken a piss at least 3 or 4 times out of that for years. In mid June of this year, I began to lose a considerable amount of weight. I figured it was due to me now taking lemon slices in my water, and nothing more. My constant companion of fatigue took over new heights and floored me. I woke up more, hardly sleeping more than a 1/2 hour at a time. I was depressed. Cussing with the frustration of a seemingly phantom depression that turned out to be my body, my physiology became completely fed up with my lack of attention to it, my ignorance and hypochondria allowing the neglect and avoidance that it took reach the point I did, and it did the only other thing it could do; put me in a deep depression free of panic attacks as to not make it seem like the normal depression I'd known over the years. It was my body saying it'd had enough, the alarm batteries all but fizzled out, and things began to close up and shut down. It was time to begin the process of dying. And with this, I would still avoid it all.

Fourth of July weekend I looked at myself in the mirror. My face was drawn, my eyes sunken deep in my skull (I had remarked to myself that my visage reminded me of my grandmother, when she was in the process of passing away. The look that a human gets when things are beginning to fade internally; externally things begin to dissolve as well), my somewhat chubby face and impossibly vile beer gut shrunken down to a point that a strict diet would have given me (had I actually done the right thing, and not the wrong). At this point, my spit had stopped working. For a few days, I had no saliva. Even this (which I had remarked to my wife about, I also shrugged it off as a symptom of the odd dehydration that had also been a problem. Odd because I'd drink a liter of water, then piss it out within 20 minutes. Again, ignorance is bliss) did not cause me to raise an alarm, even though my body had set off every alert it knew possible short of my skin shedding itself to create a doppleganger, one that would sit me down, and explain things, Pete to Pete.

What it took me a few weeks to realize, in fact, only this past weekend, that while I had this introspective mirror moment, I was, in fact, watching myself die. I was dying. My body began to shut down, and for the sake of ease, it began to remove me from the tethers that accompany man and his worries; the threads that cause both ease and strife. I had reached a disconnect that was preparing my body and mind for termination.

My wife and sister in law finally got me to the doctor. My blood sugar was in the 500 range, while fasting. It was the blood sugar of myself and four other individuals. All within me, my blood turned to syrup in my veins. I was pine sap, I was molasses. With this number, I was taken into the ICU and kept there, hooked up to sinister machines, plugged and pulled, blood drawn hourly, shots given to me in my stomach, blood pressure cuffs slipping down and pressing on my iv drips, causing pain where I couldn't care for any. My body had become acidic, and my kidneys were shutting down. It was zero hour, and what my endocronologist spoke of, about me being gone in another 24 hours, was the bottom line. It was a nightmare factory that kept me awake for 4 days; only watching Caddyshack at 2:00 a.m. one night allowed me to keep my mind. I had to keep my shit together in there, if I didn't, I would become a patient instead of a compromised human. And that, I feel, is why I got out. Because with all the drips and medicine and whatnot, my internal desire to get the fuck out is what got me out. I was at a disconnect, but as medicine (as a healer, not a corporation) began to heal me, my body began to quit dying, and instead, began to live again.

I spent about another week recovering and getting my strength back. Becoming familiar with my new routine of insulin shots (four times daily, my gut is sore) and blood sugar checks several times daily. A complete diet change; a new, exercise regiment. All the things that I need in order to manage this shit, which, luckily, is completely manageable. I am an obsessive/compulsive beast by nature, and for once in my life, this may work for my benefit as this new lifestyle is labor intensive, and a pain in the ass. I'll manage it though, as I have too much to lose if I don't.

As I have now returned to my daily routine (complete with all new routine within routine) I am only beginning to quantify the event I experienced. I am beginning to stop thinking of how I was dying, and am now thinking of how I am living. I am here again, and feeling leagues better than I have in years. I've listened to my body, and although I am filled with sadness and anger, I am also brimming with joy. So, to All My Friends (see below, please) I am here again. Thanks for never leaving.

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The day of my discharge from the hospital, at 5:30 a.m., I finally allowed myself the pleasure of listening to music. I put on my headphones and bumped the joint "All My Friends" by LCD Soundsystem (this particular version, performed by John Cale). Seek this song out, but for now, I'll provide the lyrics. I think you'll see what I mean. It was my great release.

Be well, next time you'll get a story that has telepaths, lasers, and possibly space cowboys.

LCD Soundsystem "All My Friends"

That's how it starts.
We go back to your house.
We check the charts,
And start to figure it out.

And if it's crowded, all the better,
because we know we're gonna be up late.
But if you're worried about the weather
then you picked the wrong place to stay.
That's how it starts.

And so it starts.
You switch the engine on.
We set controls for the heart of the sun,
one of the ways we show our age.

And if the sun comes up, if the sun comes up, if the sun comes up
and I still don't wanna stagger home.
Then it's the memory of our betters
that are keeping us on our feet.

You spent the first five years trying to get with the plan,
and the next five years trying to be with your friends again.

You're talking 45 turns just as fast as you can,
yeah, I know it gets tired, but it's better when we pretend.

It comes apart,
the way it does in bad films.
Except in parts,
when the moral kicks in.

Though when we're running out of the drugs
and the conversation's winding away.
I wouldn't trade one stupid decision
for another five years of lies.

You drop the first ten years just as fast as you can,
and the next ten people who are trying to be polite.
When you're blowing eighty-five days in the middle of France,
Yeah, I know it gets tired only where are your friends tonight?

And to tell the truth.
Oh, this could be the last time.
So here we go,
like a sail's force into the night

And if I made a fool, if I made a fool, if I made a fool
on the road, there's always this.
And if I'm sewn into submission,
I can still come home to this.

And with a face like a dad and a laughable stand,
you can sleep on the plane or review what you said.
When you're drunk and the kids leave impossible tasks
you think over and over, "hey, I'm finally dead."

Oh, if the trip and the plan come apart in your hand,
you look contorted on yourself your ridiculous prop.
You forgot what you meant when you read what you said,
and you always knew you were tired, but then,
where are your friends tonight?

Where are your friends tonight?
Where are your friends tonight?

If I could see all my friends tonight,
If I could see all my friends tonight,
If I could see all my friends tonight,
If I could see all my friends tonight