Because It's Better To Be Irrational With Me Than Rational With Someone Else

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What Time Is It?

~ 5 AM. Banging on the door. I drag myself out of bed and stare through the peep-hole. Fucking-A! My asshole neighbor; he looks panicky. I open up and stare at him. He, in the most flat facial expression ever, asks what time it is. I stare. Did I hear this motherfucker right? DID I?! “Eh... I think roughly 5 am?” He thanks me and starts walking away. “Uhm... is that all?” He nods and disappears into his apartment. I almost went and grabbed my tennis racket and smashed him across his face... would've served him right (serve... get it get it? Mwhahaha) but it was 5 AM so I quickly abandoned my murderous thoughts. This day was just looking up great!

10 AM. Boss is explaining feverishly what we should do about the anomaly I have discovered. I listen... barely. “Uhm... Boss... can I go? Like... If I don't go in the next ten minutes... I think I'm gonna keel over.” He stares at me panicky. “Well, like... I don't know... I can't breathe.” My chest hurt. My heart hurt. And it was not because of love.

11 AM. I checked myself into a Urgent Care Clinic. The Last Place on Earth I'd like to be. Two men next to me are showing each other their stab wounds. Where the fuck am I?! Are you serious? I do not need to see how deeply you cut your arm! I am passing out.

12 PM. I finally got my colorful bracelets indicating all the problems I'm having. Now, it seems all too real. I hate hospitals. I run up to the desk and beg people to see me, I can't breathe and it really really really hurts. The bleeding fool saw this and backed off “Ya, she can go ahead of me... I won't bleed to death.”

1 PM. Finally someone saw me. EKG, normal. Chest x-ray, normal. Bloodwork... below normal (low-cholesterol... ya, I have not been keeping up with my cheeseburger intake; electrolytes... weak... nothing new there, no AIDS... surprise surprise... not). Ay, lets do a stress test said the doctor. Ay, lets not, I said. But we probably should, he insisted. But I'd rather go home..., I pressed. After all, I was not having a young-person heart attack.

2:30 PM. I am waiting in the ER hooked up to all heart monitors. I am hating this. Everybody is ignoring me, and my anxiety is kicking in. I can't breathe. I can't breathe because my chest hurts, I can't breathe because I am anxious to be in the hospital, I can't breathe because I'm hooked up to all the cables... I can't breathe. I start tugging on the cables, I start becoming jittery, I get off the table and pull the monitor with me. A nurse approaches me and asks if i'm cold. No, I want to go home. But you have a stress test. Reschedule it. We can't release you. Fuck this. They put me in a wheelchair and put me in the room for the stress test. The echo showed that my heart was top notch heart. Yea, black market salesman did not lie.
The doctor asked: Why are you studying physical chemistry?? It's so hard. Me: because I realized I am too afraid of hospitals to be a doctor (true story). I asked to go home, they said no, I asked for food, they said no.

4:00 PM. I asked for food. Request denied. They ask me to start walking on a treadmill. I said, I can't. I will pass out. I need food first. Request denied. I get up on the treadmill. The test should've lasted 15 minutes? I lasted a LONG minute and a half walking at slow speed. I passed out.

5:00 PM. I am in the ER waiting for results. Hooked up to cables and things measuring my pressure. I am not liking it and my chest hurts and I feel like dying and I am not liking all this and I am stressing out stressing out so badly because I do not like being attached to things and beeping things and hospitals in general... god hospitals are horrible.

5:30 PM. “So does it feel like someone stabbed you in the chest?” Wouldn't know, never been stabbed. He laughs, “Well that's good!” But it feels as if someone punched the shit out of my chest.

5:45 PM. “Basically your sternum and ribs are fucked up. Inflamed beyond belief. Did you hurt yourself recently?” Yes, in October I fell off motor-cross in the desert at full speed, and November, I was biking when a driver drove me off into a ditch. Can I go now? Now that we know I am not dying? No.

6:30 PM. I am losing it. I am hyperventilating. It's not helping my pain. Not helping. Those beeping things. The inflating things that check my pressure. I start ripping them off. Alarm goes off in my monitor. I rip the sensors off. I put my clothes on. The nurses gather shocked. I stand up clutching my chest- I can't breathe-, “I need to leave... I really need to leave.” I point at the IV: “You can either give me my discharge papers now and remove this needle, or I shall tear it off and just walk away.” They picked the first one, the discharge papers were ready hours ago! Apparently they waited for my pregnancy test results!

PREGNANCY?! I TOLD THEM I WAS NOT PREGNANT! WTF?! I told them if I am somehow impregnated, they should call me up... and news for that matter... since that shall be a miracle.

!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*

The Filmmaker took me to dinner since I hadn't eaten since the previous day. He was worried sick and wondered if I was in pain the previous day. “Yea... yea I was. I couldn't breathe and my chest hurt real bad the whole time.” He apologized and hoped that he didn't injure me further when trying to make out with me so much. I said not to worry about it. Truth be told, while I was in extreme pain yesterday... I really enjoyed kissing and be kissed by him.

I think he thinks I am his girlfriend. He worried about me more than I'd expect from a person i've just began... hanging out with. I do not mind. I like him. I really do.

I refused his offer to drive me back home. I biked from the office – big mistake... I barely made it. As I was carrying my bike up the two flights of stairs... my asshole neighbor stood in front of my door. Sweat dripping from my back and face, I state I do not know the time, but he should get a watch.

We have come a full circle.

I am still in pain.

1:08 a.m. - July 06, 2011

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