Skull Fucked

So... for awhile now I've been told by my many doctors that I need eye surgery. My vision is pretty good, it's not that kind of surgery. See… I have the privilege of being a Medical Marvel and a by product of that is that my body has a major case of the stupids. My body over produces antibodies and the antibodies get totes bored and decide to go wild like a whore at her first college frat party.

The antibodies attack my body, my joints, skin, organs, hair, pretty much anything is free game. A couple of years ago I had to have my thyroid removed because the antibodies had aggravated it so badly it had grown into the side of my face. I'm proud to say that my thyroid was the record holder for the biggest they ever had at that hospital. Bitches still didn't give me a trophy. The minor surgery went badly fast and ended up being way more invasive than planned.

Since that surgery was such a success the attention quickly changed to my eyes. The antibodies have attacked my eyes so much that there is now extra inflammation and tissue behind my eyes and it's causing my eyes to bulge out as if they are trying to escape my face. Even though the doctors were super dismissive about the surgery, flapping their hands about saying that it's just a little surgery, I was having no part of it.

As George W. said "Fool me once (with a "small surgery") shame on..me.. shame..you, fool me twice, well I can't get fooled again."

However every time I would go to appointments they would address the eye surgery issue again. I'm sure you realize that I am a full grown adult, but I can get real fucking childish when the need arises. No matter how many times the doctors would bring it up, I would act a donkey and refuse to discuss it. After some time had passed one of my favorite doctors on my team, that’s right I have a TEAM of doctors, brought it up and basically said that it would be pretty fucking stupid to not talk to a surgeon and at least gather the information for my records, just for future reference. He was even brave enough to tell me I was being pretty damn dramatic for such a small surgery.

Well I'm many things but not stupid or ill prepared is not one of them. So I allowed them to schedule an appointment with the surgeon, because I mean come on “It's just a little surgery!” The day of the appointment came and I took my mother with me in order to help me digest the information. I had been marinating on the situation and had one really important question that I really needed the answer to. I go through all these insane tests to see how badly my vision had become and then finally get to see the “holy savior of eye balls.”

The surgeon came in and was pleasant but not overly nice, just how I like them. After introductions had been made and she got all up in my face space to personally measure my eyes, she sat back and asked "Before we get into the details are there any initial questions?" Rookie mistake.

I had just one but it was very important. I've never known anybody to have this done and the doctors wouldn't give me any details (it's their fault, however my behavior may have led to their lack of details), but I imagine that they have to do both eyes at the same time so that they are aimed the same way. Right? I don't want it like a cheapo fucked up tit job where you got one titty aimed nipple up and one aimed nipple left and I walk the rest of my days as the cockeyed lonely wanderer. . . . SILENCE. . . .  

 

The surgeon looked at me and then back at my mom. Mom met her gaze with a shoulder shrug and an eye roll that conveyed that I had been raised right but something had gone wrong along the way.

The holy savior of eye balls replied, "Lets start from the beginning. Your 1^st surgery will be on your weakest eye. We will break the occipital bone of your skull, remove that part of your skull, scrape the extra inflamed tissue from behind that eye and recess the eye back in your skull. Your 2^nd surgery will be two weeks later and we will go through the same skull breaking/removal process on the other eye. Your 3^rd surgery we will take and clip the skin at the corners of your eyes to reconstruct your eyelids. You should also know that this is only successful on two out of five people. And there is the slight risk that this can leave your vision worse than what it was when we started." I can’t make this stuff up.

 At this point many things happened at once, both at normal pace, but also at this weird slow motion pace. My mom slowly began gathering our items to leave as she braced for impact. I dropped and shook my head readying myself by taking a deep breath, I did not have time to go to jail today. Then the holy savior of eye balls did something real stupid, she made the assumption that I was about to cry and moved in closer to console me with touch. Bless her, she was right in my crosshairs, she had nowhere to go.

I looked up … "So 1^st of all this isn't some 'Little fucking surgery' that I keep hearing about it's not 'A' any-fucking-thing. It's THREE! THREE fucking surgeries that will take around 2-3 months to endure and recover from! How the fuck am I supposed to work, going about as patchy the fucking pirate?! Now, there are thee of us in this fucking room! You're telling me that if I grabbed two fuckers from the waiting room this surgery will only be a success on two out of fucking five of us! Fucking super! Excellent! So it'll be fucking fine because when I'm doomed to walk the earth with cockeyed tit up, tit left eye balls and I get snatched by traveling carnies who rape, kill, and drop my dead ass in a ditch it's fucking cool...Mom don't cry...it will be easy as hell to identify my dead body because I'll be the dead bitch with THE FUCKED UP OCCIPITAL BONE MISSING FROM MY SKULL! Just write it down mom! Write it the fuck down now so on my tombstone you know I want it to say ‘She Died Like She Lived Ballin' and Shot Callin'!"

Mom didn't miss a beat she kindly thanked the holy savior of eye balls for her time and began putting on her coat. The surgeon meekly squeaked that there was good news. That at this point my vision should be diminishing and I should be losing the capacity to differentiate between colors, but that all my test results showed that my vision was really good. She suggested that since it appeared I needed time to process the info discussed and that as long as I maintain good vision they would consider this a cosmetic choice only not a necessity. Bless her I’m sure she meant well.  

I still have to go routinely and make sure that I'm continuing to “maintain good vision.” Tho I’m pretty sure that everyday that passes I'm one day closer to going blind. At some point it will no longer be my choice, it will become a necessity to do it because a 40% chance of success is better than nothing. I'm actually due to go back and see this surgeon again here in the next month, why she consents to see me still I don't even know, she must have lost some kind of bet in hell. Recently I was with my mom as she flipped through a random notebook then looked to me with all the seriousness in the world and asked "Just so I get it right, are you still passionate that we put 'She died like she lived balling and shot calling' on your tombstone...or....have we moved past that?"

Until I come up with something better … yeah that’s what we’ll put.

-golden (@theonlygolden)