Dead Man Walking

Have you ever read that book? I have, and some of the stuff in there is pretty graphic. It almost makes me sick reading it, and the person giving her account in this book, does actually vomit! I’m so lucky I haven’t eaten nothing today. I drank water because I was allowed to, but I feel sick enough that I’d vomit and choke on whatever food I’d try to eat if I tested it. So I won’t. I can’t drink anything from 12 midday today. That’s ok with me, I’d rather not drink or eat anyway. Well, here’s why I thought of “Dead Man Walking”. I saw my opthalmologist a while ago. I couldn’t roll my right eye with or without local anesthetic in it. The left eye somehow makes the right eye respond to things too, I have no idea why. So at least I can move the left eye a bit. The right eye is a different story. When the doctor looks at it, it moves uncontrollably, but when I deliberately try to control my eye, it doesn’t work. So, now that I’ve said all that, here’s the runcher! I have to check into hospital at 4 pm, and I’ll be knocked down at 5 pm. It won’t be the exact time, but that’s the expected time for the clock to stand still for a while. While I’m asleep, the doctor is gonna have a good look in there to see what’s actually wrong in there. He reckons it could be an eyelash, but seriously they do come out after a while and then I’m fine. I’ve had similar pain with eyelashes that goes away when they come out after a few hours. This pain isn’t going away, and it feels like it’s going around different parts of my eye, not just the same spot. I can’t stand it, and if this procedure doesn’t show anything, I am gonna never go back to an eye doctor again. I don’t get myself anesthetised to make myself feel good because I want attention! I was so angry today. I just want this over and done with, I didn’t want to need to be practically killed. I feel like a dead criminal walking at this very moment.

That feeling in my head of me walking to the execution chamber with people screaming: “Dead man walking! Dead man walking!” is scaring the fuck out of me, even though this isn’t reality. I know I’m going to a hospital room and to a theatre. But man, that feeling of not knowing what to expect with anesthesia is really giving me the creeps, similar to how a criminal would feel when they know they’re gonna be executed, but don’t know what to expect when their heart stops. It’s like you don’t know when you’re going to die, you don’t know if you’ll have a stay of execution, and you don’t know what it’ll feel like when you’re about to be killed. Being anesthetised feels so fucken similar to me. I didn’t know if I’d need to be put to sleep. Now I do know I will be, and at what expected time. Unfortunately, just like getting a lethal injection or the electric chair, you never know the exact time. You could be told to get yourself killed at this time, but then you’ve got to wait for a few minutes to maybe an hour because someone else is late, or is taking forever to be killed for some odd and lovely reason. Me? I don’t think I’m gonna live through this. I’m gonna check into the hospital and start counting down the minutes. I do not want to have people put up with my reaction to the waiting game or the anesthesia! I think now that I’m thinking of this, that I’m actually glad I didn’t know what to expect when I was hit by that car last year. I was put to sleep, but didn’t know I’d fall asleep. I was sedated enough to kill a horse when I tried to wake myself up at the hospital to go right off my head with rage, but I didn’t know at what point I forgot everything and went blank, and everything went mufflly and I got distracted by stupid things easily. I really had no idea. Today, I’ve been told what to expect. I have a bad hunch that I’m gonna talk for a while, then I’ll go really, really quiet and cry quietly, as if I know I’ll never wake up again, even if that’s not the case that I won’t wake up. I’ll just cry quietly liike a sooky criminal and make visual signals to the anesthetist that I’m listening, rather than try to talk to him or her, if at all possible. I hate the waiting game, and I really don’t want to be told that I’m going to sleep. I just want someone to say “are you really tired now? Oh well it’s night time anyway so see you in a few hours when you wake up!” rather than the old speal about being put to sleep now, this and that. At least if people pretend that I’m just tired from having a bad night and so I somehow pass out, it’ll make things a lot easier to accept. I don’t want to be honest with myself.

Since this is the last blog entry for today, I’ll try to write in the next couple of days. Depending on how brave I am, I’ll try to write tomorrow.


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