Mid Life Crisis

You people on the 60's, 70's, and 80's pop station must have a reckless disregard for my health and safety if you're playing Madonna songs after the things I've reported about her in this account. If I'm not mistaken, she knew about the Nasco crime and tried to get me killed on my forklift. But those hospital staff last night are my heroes. You know you've hit middle age when you start suffering organ malfunctions like I did last night. Your kidney can be your worst enemy, firing bullets into your urinary tract as you lie helpless against the stabbing pain. I first felt something funny while in mid discussion with a co-tenant on the prospects of war. (I don't think we need to fear any nuclear assault. Such an attack would only assure the destruction of the attacker.) I threw up and it got worse and I knew there was something wrong. As I twisted and moaned, I wondered if I'd been poisoned. I thought about how the emperor Claudius kept getting poisoned by his wife but stayed married to her because she was the loyalest he could find. But further examination pointed to my kidney as the culprit. The paramedics asked me to rate the pain on a scale of ten. I gave it an 8.5, with ten being crucifixion. It only took about half an hour to get into a bed with an IV tube in my arm. Yes, I had to submit a blood sample, as well. Did you read my post yesterday? Who saw that coming? But unlike Nasco Staffing, the hospital staff put something back in my blood to make up for what they took out. I asked the doctor if it would stop the pain. He said that it would not stop the pain but it would make me oblivious to it. He left and he turned out to be right. When he came back, he was covered in shimmering stardust and had a pink squirrel on his shoulder and as long as I kept my eyes on the squirrel, I felt no pain. The pixies showed me the way out by taxi and I have to go back for more tests. The doctor said I did the right thing by calling the ambulance, but this seems to be more of a pain problem than a life threatening one. I've apologized profusely to God for whatever I did to incur his fury and I have pills to help keep everything pink until I'm cured. I'm sure I'll be fine.
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© 2016. Statements by David Skerkowski. All rights reserved.