I'm up to treatment number 13, and there are only three left. And yes, I am triskaidekaphobic. I cringe whenever there is a Friday the 13th in any month, and do my best to avoid any bad luck. Call me crazy (and possibly obsessive-compulsive), but this is how I've always been.
I debated whether or not to share a bit of bad luck I had yesterday, and in the spirit of not holding back, I thought, why not? During a week that has seen various celebrities posing in varying degrees of undress, along with other distressing events, I can be self-effacing enough to share an unfortunate incident that occurred as I was driving home from running a few errands.
I had an accident, the likes of which I had never before experienced. Yes, I'm talking about that type of accident; the one people don't usually talk about because it is so demoralizing and humiliating that you normally can't help but keep it to yourself. But, since I've been spending the past few months being pumped full of poison, there isn't much I'm not willing to share. After all, my accident was a side effect of chemotherapy that happens to many patients. If it's not coming out of one end, it's coming out the other. Yes, that's disgusting, but true.
I will spare you the gory details, save for the fact that I took a shower with my clothes on for the first time in my life, and spent the remainder of the day feeling like an overgrown infant who had yet to be toilet trained. Hey - shit happens, but when it happens to you, the humor is sometimes difficult to come to terms with. We joke incessantly about bodily functions, but when you find yourself in such an unsavory situation, it can be thought of as bad luck instead of a reaction to outside elements that can sometimes cause your body to betray itself. It can be questionable food from questionable sources in foreign countries; too much alcohol; a virus; medication, or maybe even bad genes. Regardless of the cause, you just want to eradicate the evidence and move on. Unless, of course you're a writer like me who has no shame.
Keep in mind that you could just as easily be looking at naked pictures of celebrities, pregnant or otherwise. But those images are likely manipulated. Here, the shit is real; literally.
Nava
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