Stuck Between a Rock and a Bullet Wound

Well, something has happened to me that has not happened in a very long time. My system crashed before I could save the damn thing online. Damn, and I had some good shit too. Hmmm. Do I feel like repeating the old, or come at you with the new? I'll hit you with the new, it'll be much more exciting.

I've spent the last few days in my room, burning the hours down hard. The reason, well one was that I have the gout again. I've been blowing off everything for nearly the entire week because I just can't walk without breaking out into tears. Simple at that. I feel like slitting my own throat when I have far to go on foot, and far my friends, right now, is NOT all that far.

So, you might say, why don't you stop bitching and take your COLCHI- CINE? Oh, or have your forgotten, that although COLCICINE does cure the gout, it also makes you into the MAD SHITTER! You are transformed, like an anal Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. You'll shit like you've never shit in your life. I don't know why this is the case, that a miracle drug like COLCHICINE has to have an anal fixation like a life sentenced convict in C block.

I'm pissed to say the least. But...Karma.

So comes Tuesday and I'm starting to feel a little better so I get ready for my anxiety therapy group session. The invasion of the Punch Clowns. I shouldn't say that, I'm a fucking Punch Clown myself. I belong in that damn group, lets face it. They see it that way too, because, as Dr. W. told me, if I fail to make Dr. D's group or Dr. K's session, I'm out. Just like in baseball. OUT. So the line has been drawn in the sand. I get up and get dressed. It's time to make that move right now.

I hit the streets with a bop in my walk as I try to only put weight on the rest of the toes and not the big toe, but i can tell you now, without the use of that one large toe, YOU WILL WALK FUNNY. So, I have a bop in my stride, so what? I hit the Way with my commuter repulsion kit (headsets and good book) and ride the number 3 down to 42nd street. Upon heading upstairs to the Shuttle, my big toe throws a linkage, and sends me into the rail of the stairs. The pain is so exquisite that it should be painted as a classic. What the Hell?

Now I walked with a legitimate limp to my stride. I take the Way to the number 6 train and ride that downtown. Getting off at my stop, I head cross town to my Therapist's office. Now see me sitting there gritting my teeth from pain with six other people and Dr. D. He goes around the room and intentionally leaves me for last. And when he finally calls my name, I let the fucking room have it. I got it all off my chest. It was as if I tore away my ribcage and threw it like a noisy trash can lid in the center of the table. I mean it. My fellow paranoiacs leaned back in their chairs to avoid my ferocity.

I wasn't mad at anyone, no, NO ONE other than LUVOX. I let them know how the side effects were out of this world. I told them everything, I didn't hold shit back, from livid dreams to losing my erection and libido (MOJO)! I was still filled with rage when I finished. My foot was still throbbing. When it was all over, I walked out, leaving everyone jumping out of my way (remember, we're all stressed, and scenes like that drives us crazy), heading for the Way, limping as if shot in the foot, barely being brought to tears. I thought about stopping off at Duane Reade and buying a pain killer, but I was afraid of pulling a Ledger/Jackson. Hey, I'm not making fun of these two gentlemen but they didn't have 15 DIFFERENT PRESCRIPTIONS PLUS COLCHICINE floating around in their bloodstream! If anyone should and could buy the farm for popping pills, their experience should be sobering.

NO...I have painkillers at home if I can't go to sleep. I just have to make it home. I hobble my way back uptown, like a cripple without his crutches, swimming in a sea of pain...from a fucking toe! When I got home I still did not go for the painkiller but instead went for the COLCHICINE, knowing that with every dose I head towards being the MAD SHITTER!

I was supposed to go downtown to a dinner party that some poets were throwing and that OBSIDIAN was raving about, something that I really wanted to do. So it was downtown on 73 street. This would be easy. Take the downtown express from my home to 72nd street, walk one block and I was good as done. I get ready, gingerly putting on my shoe, hopping that I don't turn into the MAD SHITTER while at the dinner party.

I check the address for the building number only to find out that it's 72nd street on the East Side of town! I live on the upper West Side of town! The problem with this is that Central Park is between me and the East Side! SHIT! That means, instead of taking my broke-down ass one stop on the Way, I have to now take either TWO buses or THREE trains. That's' bullshit. I cocked my foot back up and called it a night. Besides I had to get up early in the morning to adjourn my court case.

On the rise of the next day, I awoke with a start...but the good thing is that I DON'T REMEMBER WHY. In fact, I slept like the dead. No dreams or anything ! The last hurrah of LUVOX? I can't wait until my body empties that shit out of my bloodstream. With my kidneys, that could take months. But this must be its last cry! Good-riddance.

I tried to call yesterday for my adjournment, but it would not take the call from SKYPE, and when I used the phone booth, there was only a busy signal. At $0.50 a pop, my dollars went really fast. My plan, call early from the office phone downstairs. I asked one of the social workers and she said that it would be no problem.

So, this morning I arose early, ran downstairs and got on the phone. This time I got through. Their operating hours are from Eight to...whatever. So I called at Eight. I was put in a cue and made to wait. At around Eight thirty I hung up. The phone voice had said that there was a chance to file for an adjournment online. So I go and try that shit, and they were right. Why the fuck they didn't have that on the fucking form is beyond me? We could have cut to the chase a long time ago. I fill out the form and it's rejected. It needs to be filed WITHIN seven days. This is the sixth day. I file it again and it is rejected again.

I give up. I'm going in. With my medical records or without them. I'm also going to file for my court documents too. In the middle of a lot of gobbledegook that only lawyers know of from dealing with this shit on a daily basis, is the explanation that I can ask for the evidence that they are going to use against me in court so that I can make a satisfactory defense. In real life court cases, this is called 'discovery'. Who knew that this was the case in binding arbitration? Just because they use mostly legal terms does not mean that they have to follow legal precedents.

Well, in any event, I'm dead meat, if so it is my Karma. I'll just walk in and sit down and take whatever is thrown at me, except for this curious passage which reads:


"...if you or your representative fail to appear at a scheduled hearing, your hearing request will be considered abandoned unless within 15 days of the scheduled date of the hearing, you or your representative requests restoration to the calendar and you provide good cause for failing to appear."

Another loophole? Just don't show up and file 14 days later that I had no medical records to make my case?

Karma?

HobobobSource URL: http://idontwanttobeanythingotherthanme.blogspot.com/2009/09/stuck-between-rock-and-bullet-wound.html
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