Say what you wants, if your blog ain’t honest, it probably ain’t worth reading. Ain’t any other way to put it. I’m BLUE. And there ain’t nuthin’ I can duz about it. I’m blue.
Yes, I knows it’s my own fault. Don’t tell me I made my choice to have surgery before Christmas and I’ll be better sooner this way. Don’t tell me again I look better every day and I’m getting’ better faster than most folks do.
I be grateful folks done gone out of their way to make my Christmas as good as possible. It be great to know folks care enough about you to goes out of their way to make things better.
Ain’t no denying, though, that this is going to be a blue Christmas, just likes my favorite Christmas of all, the one in Vietnam when was waiting for my traveling papers
Though I only occasionally feels the kind of pain that I needs pain relievers for, I feel blue almost all the time. I ain’t slept a whole night through for over two months. When I first go to bed I’z greeted bys a fifteen minutes coughing fit. A good night is one where I sleeps three hours straight what with a damn feeding tube hanging outta your nose and a humidifier sucking on your trachea.
Eating yellow sludge from a tube ain’t exactly inspiring, neither, particularly since my favorite part of Christmas is the food. I usually gains an extra ten pounds from Thanksgiving to New Years. This year I’z having a tough time forcing down the number of cans of liquid food they says I need to maintain my weight. Nestle’s yellow sludge is just plain awful. Sad to think them folks make candy bars. I’z have trouble keeping it down, and it don’t even sit too well when I do keep it down. Never again goin’ complain about oatmeal breakfast.
I’z mostly tired of the hacking. Hacking may keeps my lungs free, but it makes my whole body ache. I get a headache because the doctor done changed the “wiring” in my neck when he stripped those glands from my neck. The food is in my stomach seems to be forced up into my esophagus because of the feeding tube. Bodily fluids are forcefully expelled from my tracheotomy, everywhere, unless I remembers to cover the hole in my throat instead of my mouth. It’s miserable. Ain’t no other ways to see it.
And shore enough it’s sunny outside. First sun in months, and I can’t go nowhere ‘cause my tracheotomy don’t allow no cold air. The mountains around are covered with the best snow in years and I can’t snowshoe or cross country ski until I get this tracheotomy outta my throat.
I knows from experience that this, too, gonna pass, but then something just as awful done gonna take its place.
Those blues don’t never go away; they just sits there waiting alongside the road ‘til you travels by.
