Day 6

Hi, yeah, alcoholic, whatever.  So I had

an awesome experience yesterday…and

by “awesome” I mean I had a heart attack

on the shitter.  I was taking a piss when

my chest got all tight, like my ribs

had turned into a trash compactor

and my lungs were due to be cubed

into airless hunks of waste.  So I fell

on my knees, fly down and schlong out,

and I hunched over the toilet until

that wave of WHAT THE FUCK passed.

Sure, I’ve had my head in the toilet before,

but not when it was half-full of my own

fucking piss.

 

When I called 911, the EMTs

checked my blood pressure, my pulse, my pupils.

They asked if I was on anything.  When told them

“No, that’s the problem, fucking cold turkey,” I swear,

the fat one rolled his eyes.  The two of them traded

the same look I give my baristas when there’s

a diva in the shop.  They asked about pain in my arm,

if this had happened to me before, and when I said no

to both, they packed up, said it was a panic attack.  Said

to take it easy, then dashed off in their minivan ambulance.

Panic attack my ass.  Like taking a leak

is so stressful.

        Man, don’t get started

with that DT bullshit.  This was cardiac arrest.

End of story.  My dad died of a heart attack

at 39.  It’s in my genes.  If those guys stayed

for more than five minutes, I could’ve told them

there’s a family history of this shit.  I’m just saying,

if my heart taps out and I drop dead sober,

I’m gonna be fucking furious.  Yes,

even when I’m dead.  Yes, I’d rather

die drunk.  What kinda question is that?

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s