Before, dialysis seemed like something that would keep me prisoner and now it feels like the disease is the thing holding my hostage from the world. So go ahead, give me a central line. I wasn't exactly asking the frat guys to take a number as it was. I'll just stick to my M.O. of being really tough and hardcore.
I had gotten into this mode of feeling so sorry for myself laying on that couch. This morning, I starting getting ready for my day when Sunday Bloody Sunday came on my iPod. My mind went to the U2 concert I have tickets to in October and I was like "You're going to this. You're going to hear Bono. Unless you are plugged into the wall, you are going to get there. It's not that far off. You can do it a little longer. Put on some decent clothes, brush your hair, and quit acting so worthless."
I can barely eat anything that isn't bland and disgusting or some form of Jello. So what. I'll get super skinny and I'll secretly kind of like it but be really concerned on the the outside. In all seriousness, I do miss my meat and cheese. I still haven't tried the new cheddar burger at Whataburger and it's breaking my heart. It looks amazing but I'm pretty sure I would just projectile right there in the booth after one bite of so much beefy cheesy goodness.
I'm thinking of heading to Austin tonight to soak in my apartment and friends because by tomorrow all my optimism may have drained out of me and my stomach may be back to rejecting everything I send it's way. The point is that isn't the case today. Today is a good day. That's all that matters.