Doctor Doctor Give Me the News.

I got a hole in my eye, high blood pressure, and a bad case of farting too.

This is why I don't go to the doctor. If I hadn't gone to the doctor then I wouldn't have high blood pressure because I wouldn't be thinking about how I have high blood pressure making me stressed / making my blood pressure rise.

Of course I had high blood pressure, I mean the nurse made me think for 5 seconds that I could be pregnant and we all know how much I drink and we all know that kid would come out looking a little too Rod Blagojevich (aka fetal alcohol syndrome). Plus we all know what I think of babies, especially babies coming out of my vagina (Check out Pervertable Tongues "The Mom Song" if still curious) so of course my blood pressure went up. Give me a Break. And of course it's still up because now I'm pissed off that there is something wrong with me.

Also...I guess have a hole in my eyeball. I almost passed out when the doc was dilating my eyes. He kept like staring into my eye with this bright light and I started to freak out thinking that he shouldn't be taking that much time, thinking how there was probably something wrong if he kept looking into that eye repeatedly, thinking that I was going to have to have surgeries and that I wouldn't be able to see, that I had some weird cancer that he'd never seen before. So I got dizzy and could barely breathe.

All of which didn't really help my blood pressure. Which then made me even more anxious. I thought if I had a stroke I'd lose movement in the left side of my body and then if my right eye had a hole in it neither eyes would work. And Ryan would have to feed me from a straw and he'd stop clipping his toenails just to spite me.

Then the doc tells me that the hole will probably just repair itself.

Repair itself!!! Then why the f did you tell me about it to begin with? Probably because he wanted me to have a stroke. That has to be the reason.

So in a way, doctors perpetuate my illnesses by making them into bigger deals then they actually are. Therefore making me need to drink to calm my nerves, which I know is just going to lead to some other overblown problem down the road.

Oh and I fart a lot. Ryan said if I kept telling personal secrets about him he was going to tell everyone that I fart. So, there you all go. I fart. Sometimes I fart dramatically. Sometimes I just let go a little whimper fart. But I do it, in case you all were mistaken. I know it's a rarity as most human beings never experience that bodily function. I must disgust you all.

But don't worry soon my heart and my right eye will explode (or implode?) and I won't be able to write anymore.

Or I'll have to do it by blinking the letters of the alphabet over and over again until I write an entire book. . . (actually written by Ryan who has to watch me blink all day every day while feeding me food from a straw, yay how fun!)