Tuesday, June 24, 2008

June 27: Planet-Date 2008 and two clean socks

(Based on actual events.)

Hey! My skin is changing to a purply kind of color. (I wonder if I will have scales, or feathers.)

June 27, 2008

May 16: Planet-Date 2008 and the prime root of zero.

(Based on actual events.)

Where was I? Oh, yeah ... bringing you up to date. (Hold on ... last bite of cucumber ... must have.)

Remember that thing growing out of my right hand? Well, I was right. It does make a useful walking cane. And it's still detachable! And no, it didn't keep on growing right through the floor. (Thank goodness. I would have been s-t-u-c-k.)

Wish my left hand had one too. (Oh, well.)

And did I tell you about my stint in the environmental unit (also known as the torture chamber?) Let me just say that it amazes me to no end what these doctors can think up. I firmly believe they are all descended from Ulperian Pain Givers.

So ... while they had me locked up in the torture chamber, here's what they wanted to do. (Aghast!) They wanted to open up a major artery, in my leg (the crotch to be specific) ... and shove a bunch of wires with micro-miniature cameras on the end up into my artery.

But that wasn't all. Then they wanted to keep on shoving those wires further and further into my artery until they followed it all the way up to my brain ... at which point they would inject a dye into my bloodstream, switch on the electrical current to those wires with cameras, and then sit back and watch the show.

They called it a test.

Yeah. Right.

Next time I'm going to tell them that if they want to run their test, then they can run it on themselves first.

May 16, 2008

June 27: Planet-Date 2008 and one clean sock.

(Based on actual events.)

How could so much time have passed so quickly? (Must be those pain pills.)

Well, to bring you up to date, I still have some teeth left. The ones that decided to stay in my mouth simply changed. They're like canine incisors now. You know, meat ripping teeth. (Must be because of all those Lucky Charms I ate ... yum.)

Of course, now that I have these great meat ripping teeth, you'd logically think I'd want only meat. Oh, contrare. The only thing I want now is ... cucumbers, peeled, and with Ranch dressing on top. (Yum.) Think I'll go get some right now!

June 27, 2008

Wednesday, June 18, 2008

May 6: Planet-Date: 2008 and seven:

(Based on actual events.)

As we (you) humans all know, our bodies do change with age, sometimes in large ways, and sometimes in small ways. You know, like the blood vessels on the back of your hands get larger and more prominent.

Mine used to spell the letter M (in capital) on my left hand and the letter H (also in capital) on my right (strangely enough.) I noticed this morning that this has changed. While my left hand still proudly displays the letter H, I can no longer distinguish a specific letter on my left hand. I wonder if it’s changing to a different letter. (And just what is the significance of these letters, anyway?)

May 6, 2008

May 5: Planet-Date: 2008 and six:

(Based on actual events.)

I just don't know what to do! All of my teeth are loose, and getting looser by the day! Am I going to lose them all?

All I can think about is ... what kind of creatures live on all liquid diets, anyway? (spiders, gobrots, mosquitoes, bats, ickerts, vampires, ???) Am I going to change into one of these?

Gosh, I hope not. If I have to live off an all liquid diet, I think I would prefer French Onion Soup.

May 5, 2008

April 25: Planet-Date: 2008 and 7/12:

(Based on actual events.)

For all that we tout the miracles of modern medicine, it all comes down to the simple fact that not much has changed after all. The learned doctors still use leeches to extract blood from sick people. Only now, they call them “syringes.”

I will give them credit, though. They have slowed (I think) the progress of the mutations (I think.) The virus is still very active in my left hip (ow) and knees, and has been for some time now, but it has finally stopped its jet-set partying from joint to joint within my body. (Thank goodness.) It did, however, take a spur-of-the-moment cruise up to my lower jaw a couple of months ago. Have you ever had your teeth decide to re-arrange themselves?

My dietary needs have changed too. I don’t eat like I used to, or when, or the same amount. I get these expressly urgent appetite pangs for anything citrus. Oh yeah, and Lucky Charms. Can’t eat enough Lucky Charms. Lucky Charms and orange juice, um, um, um. (Think I’ll have some now. Back in a minute!)

April 25, 2008

February 29: Planet-Date: 2008 and a leap year:

(Based on actual events.)

I’m so bored. I’m in so much pain, or simply unable to do things I used to do when I was still 100% human, and so, sadly, much of the time I can do no more than lie in bed and watch daytime TV. Ever been stuck with nothing but regular non-cable/satelliet Broadcast daytime TV to occupy your time with?

There’s nothing but Judge Judy courtroom dramas, the same old soap operas, the same old three news items announced over and over and over on the news programs, and … OMG … Jerry Springer and the Jerry-Springer-Spin-Off-Shows. Oh yeah, and there’s Oprah.

I think I’m losing my mind. Or maybe, I’m not. Maybe I’m just starting to think like an alien. (OMG)

January 29, 2008

January 18: Planet-Date: 2008 and 7/12:

(Based on actual events.)

Sorry it’s been so long since my last communiqué. The doctors have been keeping me busy. They do love their tests.

True to their word, the doctors have not cured me. Nor have they repaired any of the mutation that has already occurred. And while they did say they could stop its progress, so far they haven’t.

It’s moving into my hip now, on my left side only (so far), right down there where the leg sockets in to the hip-bone. It makes me sort of limp every now and then, because I get really sudden and intense Charley-Horse pains there now. I get the pain, my leg gives out beneath me, I nearly fall, and it looks like I’m limping.

The appendage growing out of the fingertips of my right hand has grown all the way down to the floor. Thank The-Gods-That-Be (all of them) that it didn’t keep right on growing through the floor. I was worried I’d get stuck in one spot.

So, I now have three legs. Or to be more specific, I now have two legs and one arm/leg. Wait. That’s two bent legs, one inflexible leg (leg/arm), and one limp. Oh yeah, and I can’t stand up straight anymore either. So, that’s bent at the waist, with two bent legs, one inflexible leg/arm, and one limp. Walking has truly become a challenge.

I wonder how I’ll move about once the mutation is complete. Who knows? Maybe I’ll have the ability to throw sticky spider silk or roll up into a moving ball, or some such other trait. Hope I don’t wind up having to spit to propel myself about.

January 18, 2008

August 28: Planet-Date: 2007 and 3/4:

(Based on actual events.)

It’s taken many long months now to find the medical help I need, and can afford. As I said in my last communiqué, the mutation has begun.

My knees, both of them, will no longer bend or straighten but are instead locked in a semi-bent position, much like the leg of a Gisindian Thranwort.

My ankles are stiff too. They no longer pivot, which makes it difficult to keep my balance when standing.

And I seem to be growing an appendage out of the tips of the fingers of my right hand. It’s hard and woody. When it reaches the floor, I could maybe use it s a cane. (I just hope it doesn’t grow through the floor.)

The thought of getting some relief has almost been more than I can bear. I’ve longed for it for so long, searched and searched for medical help, prayed for the pain to go away, made offerings and donations, helped with charitable clothes drives, escorted Little Older Ladies (and myself) across the street ... everything and anything to win the favor of the Gods ... all for the sake of getting rid of this unbearable pain.

Finally, the Gods may have taken notice. My new doctors seem to think they know what my malady is. (They’re still blaming it on the Rheumatoids.)

The bad news is, they say it’s incurable and irreversible, so they can’t kill it and they can’t fix what it’s already done. All they can do is prevent it from mutating me more. (Great. I'm stuck halfway.)

I’ll never be the same old me again. Sigh.

They’ve got some wacky treatments in store for me, that’s for sure. One treatment stops production of DNA. One kills off my immune system. And they aren’t sure if either method will work. In fact, they won’t know for another three years yet.

And then there are the drugs they want me to take to make my heart beat at the normal human heart-rate speed, instead of the speed of light. They also gave me a water pill, to moderate my blood pressure. And I take one Aspirin a day now, to keep my blood thin like a human’s should be, and a fancy concoction to keep my thyroid in balance. And then, there's the green pills.

Best of all, I’ve got better pain pills now.

August 28, 2007

January 2, Planet-Date: 2007 and ½:

(Based on actual events.)

I’ve contracted an alien virus. I’m certain of it. The doctors call it Rheumatoid Arthritis, but I know that’s just a fancy name for “unknown gene-mutating alien virus.” (No wonder it’s incurable.) And besides, I happen to know that the Rheumatoids of Planet Rheuma out in the Beta System (the only Rheumatoids I know) don’t get Arthritis. They can’t. They have no jointed appendages.

I don’t know how I got this virus. I haven’t been off-planet in ages. None of my friends have been off-planet either, nor has anyone friends from off-planet come on-planet. So I don’t think any of them gave it to me. Maybe it was that cookie I ate.

I can say for sure, though, that it came out of nowhere and hit me like a ton of bricks. Wham! One minute I was busy sewing up Elasto-Plunges to stock my Med Kit with, and the next thing I knew, my hand had swelled up like a Parsuvian watermelon. Then it started to throb, keeping time with the strange pulsating glow now emanating from it. My mind got all foggy and I couldn’t think, except to think about how strange and painful this was. I sat there, holding my hand up in the air, rocking back and forth, moaning. Somehow, it made it feel better.

Three days later, the swelling finally subsided. Another two days and I could almost use my hand again. Then my other hand swelled up, Parsuvian watermelon scene all over again. I went to the doctor. He said he had no idea what was wrong and that I should go ask someone else.

A week later my knee swelled up. What’s that old Earth expression, “Oh, my God?” Yeah, "OMG." In ten minutes flat my knee went from normal to surpassing a Darfrissian Large-Fruit, which is considerably bigger than a Parsuvian watermelon. In fact, my knee looked more like an Imbric Master Gourd, one of the big ones that weighs eighty pounds or more, one of the ones that are about to burst because it’s so swollen. Ouch.

So I hopped over to the Emergency Room on my good leg. They gave me many strange looks and one very effective Morphine pain shot, put a band-aid on my knee, and took me up to ICU, where I spent the next three days in sleepy bliss, thanks to follow-up shots of the same very effective Morphine. Another five days in a private room, bored to hopelessness, and they finally let me go. Good thing too. I was running out of pajamas.

My knee almost looked normal and if I was kind to it, it didn’t hurt too much. But it wasn’t the same knee. It was different, in ways I couldn’t then describe. The mutation had begun.

And there’s more. My heart rate and blood pressure had changed and my thyroid gland was pumping a strange blend of hormones into my body.

So, I was sent home with enough prescriptions to cost any lottery winner all of his winnings, and an apology that the learned doctors there could not help me. I would have to go elsewhere to seek treatment.

Good thing they gave me a prescription for pain pills.

January 2, 2007