Yesterday was pretty rough so I skipped posting. The two of them came in together for the night shift while I was on a double and he had hickies on both sides of his neck. It definitely bothered me but I had been preparing all day and just reminding myself that I’m being crazy, co-dependent and possessive all at the same time so after a few minutes I was good. After that though I went to quickly drive a morning shift employee home and on the drive I had to pull over suddenly because I felt like I was going to be sick and I threw up a good amount of blood. I drove him home and went back to the store and made a joke about what just happened but nobody thought it was funny (cause it wasn’t). She looked at me horrified and I remembered that jokes about death after you’ve just done something concerning to people who say they love you don’t tend to go over well. I still felt a little nauseous which I thought was just left over from before but I started to get worse so I decided to go home but before I even got to my car I felt it coming again so I ran back inside to hit the bathroom. I yakked again but this time no blood. I chilled for a bit to get my bearings and when she was next to me I could tell she was on the verge of tears which made me regret the joke even more. It was something along the lines of, “I just threw up blood, fuck I hope it’s a tumor.” Just poor taste all around. She told me I needed to go to the hospital and I told her I would but I had no intention of doing so.
When I left I drove for a bit and started to feel like I was going to faint so I went to my friends house who lived closer. I told him what happened and after a bit of back and forth he drove me to the ER. I made him go home and said I’d call him with updates. Guard down now I found a way to hate everyone who came in after me but got to go in before me. Never mind the fact that they were more urgent or that there’s different care needed so some people go in if what they need is available. Anyway after about three hours and some tests they figured out that on my last bender I likely tore some lining in my esophagus that caused blood to build up in my stomach over the past week or so and this was me finally getting it all out. They also said that while my liver appears to be funtioning normally it shows signs that if i were to keep going at this rate in about ten years I would develop cirrhosis. It’s inoperable so I’d either need a liver transplant or I’d be in for a very slow and painful death. Also they assured me that with a history of alcoholism my chances of getting a transplant would be next to none. I’ve never been so glad that I decided to stop drinking, I just have to make sure it lasts this time.
They wrote me some prescriptions to help the healing of the lining which I just realized I forgot to pick up today cause why not. I’m also supposed to go see a specialist to confirm that what they think is true but I honestly have no plans to do that. I will schedule an appointment with my primary care doctor though. It’s been a long time though and I don’t know what his name is. I’m glad my friends made me go. God damn it’s a full time job caring about me. Now I really don’t blame my old friends for leaving.
At this point I knew they’d be closing down the store and after I called her to tell her I was okay Iasked if I could come by. When I got there she came out looking very concerned. I didn’t even get out of the car can you believe that? She messed with my hair and went back inside, she was the only one there. I wanted so bad to jump out give her a hug and thank her for being so stubborn with me but I didn’t. I definitely would’ve shed a few tears. In case it wasn’t obvious I was actually really scared for a minute yesterday. I thought that my liver might finally give up on me.
Seriousness aside one of the tests I needed was a rectal exam to make sure there wasn’t any blood in my stool and she got in there deep for about thirty seconds getting as far back as she could and then poking around corners. I don’t think I’ll ever be the same again.