Shorts and Shy-kus #2
By Angela Diamond· Oct 11, 2013
it came on nine-eleven
My body stopped working // When I get nervous I ask a lot of questions, some of which aren’t actually questions
I had to get an ultrasound today. Here is a list of things that I said to the ultrasound technician:
- What exactly is the gooey stuff made of?
- Why is this towel so crunchy?
- You guys probably don’t use fabric softener.
- I always forget to put the fabric softener in, but when I do, I’m always glad.
- I know I wasn’t supposed to drink or eat after midnight but I had some Smartwater. I hope that’s okay.
- Is it difficult to give overweight people ultrasounds?
- I guess, I was just wondering if the camera had different densities. Like if you use the same camera on a very overweight person and a very thin person, how does it not just see straight through the thin person?
- Where is my appendix?
- What is the appendix for? Did they ever figure that out?
- Do you think they named it after the part of a book? Because people can read a book without an appendix? You don’t really need it.
- What is that?
- My kidneys look big.
- Should I still be holding my breath?
- I can hold my breath for a really long time because I was a swimmer.
- Is that my gallbladder?
- Can you see my gallstones?
- Why can’t you tell me?
- Where is my pancreas?
- I’m trying to remember where everything was in the pig I had to dissect in high school.
- Is that my spleen?
- What does my spleen do?
- Can you live without it?
- Is the goo going to get residue on my clothes?
- Are you Polish?
- You look Polish. Your name is Polish.
- Why do you need to know how old I am?
- Would my spleen look different if I were younger?
- I guess my face looks younger than my spleen, huh?
- How can you even see stuff on the screen? It’s just grey.
- Everything I’m looking at looks like a disease.
- Are my kidneys averaged sized?
- So you really can’t tell me anything?
- When will I know about anything? Like a day?
I will bong this beer
what’s the worst that could happen
threw up on my friends
this woman is hot
probably too hot for me
I’ll buy her a drink
My body stopped working // I’m going to throw up
I have had gallstones for five years, and am now at the point where I need to make a difficult decision. These are my two options:
1. Get laparoscopic surgery to have my entire gallbladder removed.
They would put me under, they would make two small incisions, and then they would suck out the organ through my belly button. I don’t actually think that our belly buttons should be used for anything but storing lint, so I am less than thrilled with this plan. Also, once they do remove my gallbladder, I could experience symptoms that are similar to those I am already experiencing, which include nausea, vomiting, diarrhea, lack of concentration, fatigue, etc. These symptoms could go on for months or even years with no hope of treatment. Of course, if I did get this surgery, I could instantly feel better and go through my life being able to eat entire cans of E-Z-Cheez without getting sick.
2. Go on an intense (almost-)vegan, gluten-free, alcohol-free diet for a year.
(No fried foods either). Gallstones are made of cholesterol. They form when the gallbladder and liver cannot keep up with the amount of cholesterol being taken in. It’s much more difficult to reverse this process, but it can be done. I would also have to go off birth control, start an intense vitamin regimen, and start making myself fresh juice every morning in lieu of what I’ve been doing for years, which is eat eggs. Coffee is also not allowed on a gallbladder diet, but fuck that, because I’ve also read that coffee can help your gallbladder, so I am going to go with the information that is the most convenient for me.
If I keep on doing what I’m doing, my gallbladder could get infected, my pancreas could get infected, I could experience liver failure, my gallbladder could explode, I could die. If they had to extract my gallbladder in the event of an emergency, they would do a lot worse than make two tiny incisions and extract it through my belly button. They would slice me open and pull it out. Which brings to mind that scene in Indiana Jones where they pull out that man’s still beating heart to sacrifice to the gods.
The irony of this is that I eat pretty healthy and exercise with a personal trainer. I drink so much, though. I drink way too much. I still drink a lot less than most people, but most people don’t have an organ in their body that is trying to kill them.
Here are the pros of going on the diet:
- My gallstones could disappear and I could avoid surgery.
- I will feel healthier by default, even if my gallstones don’t dissolve. No one feels like they are going to conquer life’s most difficult tasks after a plate of chicken fingers.
- This diet is much less expensive than surgery.
- I will vomit less.
- I will lose weight.
- My skin will probably glow.
- I will sleep better.
- I will save money by avoiding costly bar tabs.
- Maybe I will grow as a person or something.
I could make a “cons” list, but basically every item on the list would be “cheese.” Also featured on the list would be “whole lifestyle change.” I work in a restaurant. I live in a city where basically all there is to do is go to the bar. My main issue is that it’s going to be really hard. I don’t like doing things that are hard to do, because it’s hard and I don’t wanna.
So here is what I’ve decided: I will do this stupid diet. I will hate every day of it for the first few months, and then I will accept it and not think about it. I just want everyone to know this isn’t a beautiful spiritual journey, where I find myself and feel in touch with nature and the universe and whatever the fuck. It’s not going to be pretty. I had a veggie wrap for lunch and I am already really irritated about it.
if I have money
I’m allowed to be a dick
“Hi there, my name is Angela. I’ll be taking care of you this evening. Could I get you started with anything to drink?”
“I’m sorry. I can’t hear very well. Did you say your name was Dandelion?”
pungent mist subsides
leaving the lingering musk
My body stopped working // Weeks 1-5
Okay, so I started off strong. I wasn’t touching alcohol. I was making things like quinoa with flax seeds and roasted brussel sprouts. My friend, Annie, was amazing enough to send me a meal plan with over thirty recipes. I made a vegan stew that sustained me for a number of days, and it was delicious. I made and ate a vegan, gluten-free burrito. That one was terrible. I have realized a few things: I cannot have black beans. I shouldn’t have spicy things. I love Whole Foods’ hot bar, however overpriced it is.
Trouble arose in the middle of Week 3 when I started my new serving job. This particular restaurant values the knowledge of their staff over anything else, which means that every night I was given not only a free entrée, but an appetizer and free tastings of cheese and charcuterie. It started off slow and escalated so quickly that I was suddenly on my version of a food bender. Eventually I was saying “fuck it,” and eating steak and frites. This was actually worth it, and I would recommend it to anyone, as it was one of the best things I’ve ever tasted.
Needless to say, I haven’t felt wonderful. I sleep for 14 hours at a time, and I’ve pretty much stopped exercising. What is that saying from Alcoholics Anonymous? When you hit bottom you have nowhere to go but up?
Well. I’m going to get up (out of my bed at 1 pm) and I’m going to make a kale salad with roasted beets and pine nuts.
Wish me luck. They are training me on the red wines tonight.
Uncomfortable things guys have said to me and what I’ve said back
“Can I feel your legs?” — “No.”
“You’re my favorite nurse.” — “What? I’m your waitress.”
“That shit that’s around your eyes. It’s long, it’s nice, you have pretty, nice brown eyes.” — “My eyelashes?”
“Would you like to come home with my wife and me?” — “To play scrabble? Don’t answer that, I don’t know why I said that.”
“You gotta phone?” — “No.”
“You gotta boyfran?” — “Always yes.”
“I bet you like oysters.” — “Oh, wow.”
“I don’t think I like your glasses.” — “Cool puka shell necklace.”