I had a rather awkward conversation with Dr. Hill. He’s the house doctor, whatever that is. I guess he’s a big boy around here at St. Francis.

….. Well, long story short…. I finally saw a neurologist for my back. I was so bad that I was admitted to St. Francis on the same day I saw him – last Tuesday.

On Wednesday, I underwent a ‘procedure.’ I’m not sure how or if that’s different than an operation. For some reason, I suspect that it’s a medical billing coding thing.

I guess that they split me open to clean out the pus and other gunky stuff. The doctor has to ask mom and Jason to whip out the diamond saw on me to shave down some of the Harrington Rod bolts that were poking through the skin. I wouldn’t heal right otherwise, I guess.

And, given my weight, they are concerned about my nutrition and are afraid that it could take longer to heal than normal – if I can heal at all.

So, my surgical team – which I guess is Dr. S, Dr. Hill, and Dr …. I have no idea how to spell is name. The back doctor…

Dr. S = neurology
Dr. Hill = St Francis doc
Dr. ? = spine specialist.

Anyway…. Mom – thank goodness she wasn’t busy – took me to St. Francis. The operation happened on Wednesday.. procedure, sorry, and I’ve been on the mend ever since.

Because of my weight, nutrition, and everything, a feeding tube was strongly pushed on me. After some consultation with mom and Jason in addition to some furious hall pacing, I declined.

I had to tell Dr. Hill earlier. I was stomping around in the halls and monitoring where he was. I didn’t want to speak to him. But he pulled me over and Khristina tagged me for some meds… so I headed back to my room.

My reasoning for turning down the tube was that I wouldn’t have to eat. If I knew I was receiving all of my daily nutrition from Jevity 1.5 or whatever, I wouldn’t eat. Since I struggle (apparently) with that now, relying on an artificial method would be more harmful than helpful.

It’d all but guarantee that I would rely on big pharma for the rest of my life. Which is, I think, a strong possibility.

I’d probably lose my taste for food entirely and, should something happens – like the end of the world or I lose my insurance – I wouldn’t eat at all.

…. Given how England is so close to legalizing euthanasia, it could be a real possibility at some point.

Dr. Hill spaced out. I could see his thought process behind his eyes as he searched for a way to counter my argument.

Weakly, he said that I would have a choice. I could take in as much of the tube as I wanted and try to gain enough nutrients via eating.

Again, I countered, using the same argument. If I (allegedly) can’t muster enough strength to eat without a tube, what drive would I have to eat with one when I know it would take care of what I need.

He backed down and said he’d check with the other departments — like physical therapy (already discharged) and infectious disease (all but discharged) — to access when I will leave.

Since all of this happened around 10, I had the feeling that I might be released today. No word yet and it’s noon.

I’m kind of hoping for another night – for some reason. I’m a glutton for punishment. But that’s the needy hunger in me. The staff here is actually “” good. “” I don’t feel pressure, save the tube. I can do what I want and they’re here to care. They’re friendly and I’m not tied to them. I’m just a blissful patient number that tries not to take up too much of their time.

Yeah, I know my brain is warped. I just feel that there isn’t a lot of pressure here. There isn’t a weight – for the most part – and everyone is so nice. I can talk to them about anything. They’re medical. Heard it all. Probably seen it all and had it up to their elbows.

Anyway… that’s not fair. Someone needs T336 far more than I do, I’m sure. It’s not fair to mom, Jason, and everyone. And, I guess, it’s not fair to myself.

But I’ll miss Daisy. That’s the IV machine that I’ve been dragging around with me everywhere. I’ve been on a constant anti-biotic since I came here. Although being tethered to a machine is tiresome, especially when using the bathroom at night, I’ve kind of grown fond of it. Daisy is an ancient version of Wall-E.

It’s getting cold outside. The wind is biting. Why cant I just cocoon here for a while, away from everyone. I won’t be a bother.

……

I’m just tired and I don’t know what the future will be. I’m a burden. I’m a pain.

I don’t want to be, but I am.

….. I just don’t know.