in which i proceed above the pace of 1 mile per hour

This morning we got up very early to go to the hospital for my procedures. I felt like ass. I don't know about you, but when I have to get up very early, or when I am going to the hospital, I always dress like crap, in pants that do not fit me and T-shirts usually reserved for sleep or running. Absolutely no makeup, not even sunscreen. The sun is not going to get you in there. Besides, studies (my studies) have shown that with enough makeup and a big smile, people might actually believe you are a normal, healthy person, and in the hospital you don't want that anymore.

I got a wheelchair! Somebody noticed it was taking me a thousand years to get up the ramp to the entrance, and they got me a wheelchair. I love riding in wheelchairs. Even though Juan was walking next to me, which means I must have been going about the pace of walking, I felt like I was going inconceivably fast.

They ultrasounded my abdomen. In the women's center at the hospital, the ceilings are painted with flowers. I never thought I'd get so soft, but I like it there, and I appreciate the flower paintings. I enjoyed looking at the flower paintings while they used the roller to press on my gall bladder and liver until I gave the sign that it hurt, so they knew how far they could press. I liked how the word "women" was all over the center. I must be going really soft because the word "women" in so many places made me cry.

Afterward we went into a deli. I ate some toast crusts and the white part of one and a half eggs along with 40 ounces of mint tea. Then we went to the blood lab. I had ten tubes of blood taken, from the same site as Monday. When the needle went in I could feel the scar tissue breaking. I asked the lab technician, while the blood was running through the tubes, where her Halloween costume was. I know all the lab technicians there.
Today's technician blushed when I asked her about her Halloween costume. She said she was too old for costumes. I asked her how old she was and she said 28. I said me too. I told her she should have come to work as a vampire.
"That would have been funny," I said.
"Why?" she asked.

My legs are impressively heavy now. They're so, so heavy, like they're made of something denser than themselves. I've heard that dead bodies are extremely heavy, that they take double the people to carry them a distance. For a few hours every day they wake up and I hobble around to appear places where people expect things of me. One thing that people expect of you, even if you're sick, is that you will show up places and smile and talk about normal things and make jokes about being sick, like it's absolutely no big deal. It's hard to come up with normal things to talk about when you are in the hospital or in bed all day, but this is part of the deal. Usually Juan has to walk me partway, and I can only walk a few blocks, but even if it takes an hour that's better than none.

Every week for two months now I'll be giving the ten tubes of blood. I hope my veins arrive from Amazon.com soon. Somehow I ripped out the stitches from my groin procedure last week. I wasn't even touching it and then all of a sudden I heard a rip, and that was it. On Tuesday I may get new stitches. Then, later, I will go a different doctor and hear about my MRI and my ultrasounds and my biospy reviews and my blood tests. I will see the liver doctor and the leg doctor and the Crohn's doctor and the groin doctor.

Sometimes, because it feels unpleasant, because it's painful physically, it's easy to forget how extremely lucky I am. I am so lucky that these doctors are running these tests to see what is wrong with me, and that they are trying to fix me, and that my insurance is going to pay for the tests. And I am so lucky that Juan is here to help me get out of bed and walk down the street. I am so lucky that it is overwhelming. I wonder how I will ever be able to pay all of it back.