Yesterday we went to a meeting clear on the other side of town, and I couldn’t stay awake as Ming drove us on the freeway. But then I was awake telling him this:
What I went through with my health felt like the stuff people get tattoos about. Needing to mark what happened. Needing to acknowledge, this was a big deal. I’m changed, I’m a new person.
I txted my niece that when I was discharged, I thought they would cut off my hospital bracelet with a golden scissors and confetti would fall from the sky.
In reality, they just had me sign a form and gave me a bunch of paperwork about GI bleeds etc.
At home, I was in bed and asked Ming to cut off the bracelet for me. Wanted to smash it, kill it, burn it. But it was plastic, and I think he just threw it away.
I would like to do some kind of ritual. Oh, but I was telling Ming, some people go the other way (anti-tattoo) and just try to forget it, drink a lot of alcohol or do whatever drugs to numb it and pretend that it never happened.
I’m eating a banana and Ming is out at an appointment. In the hospital they told me I was potassium deficient. They had me swallow four big white potassium pills in a row.
The nurse warned me, they taste really bad.
I was like, who cares. If swallowing disgusting-tasting pills is my problem, I’ll take it.