STAYING TRUE TO DISEASE…..

I went drinking last night. This should be normal, and easy, except that I have a bad liver. My heart is also bad and my brain. i wont be surprised if I am told that my bones are rotten, and my blood is lighter. I have heard worse things about this body, my body. At ten I had rheumatic heart disease. I thought it was bad, montly injections and dyspnea., weren’t that bad apparently. At sixteen I went to india. Before you think I am better because I have seen the inside of a plane, let me tell you, I have no memory of india at all. Well, except for its very clean hospitals, its almost brown people with black long hairs, I don’t remember much. I had open heart surgery, my chest was split into two, my blood diverted into an artificial heart, then artificial valves were placed after my bad ones were taken out.
Years later, they discovered I had an an infarct, then epilepsy. My mother should have given up at the point when my heart was not willing to go on. She didn’t. I had to live. To grow a beard. To live practically on drugs.
I am mostly disciplined, every evening I bring out my array of drugs, my anti epileptics, my blood thinners, antibiotics and others whose work I don’t know. I put them in a small bowl and crush each tablet into a fine powder, then I add a little water into the powder and drown it in one gulp. A normal person should vomit, I don’t vomit because I am not normal.
It is depressing, limiting, saddening, annoying, and restricting being on drugs. Some days you might just decide to take a whole packet of those shitty tablets and pray to wake up dead. I have ever taken so many of them. I didn’t wake up dead, I woke up in the ICU. My mother was seated beside me with her hands over her cheeks, she was looking super sad. I made it out of ICU alive. That was a miracle considering I had taken a mixture of all my drugs. I swore never to kill myself after that.