even my comfort foods didn't really help

On the way from the doctor's office to the pharmacy to pick up the THIRD antibiotic prescription in a week, I stopped at Dunkin' Donuts and scarfed down two chocolate covered donuts with sprinkles on top. They were yummy. And yet afterwards the Clara problem was still there. Bombs bursting in red air and shit.

I cannot finally produce a narrative of what happened yesterday because time stood sickeningly still while the doctor took a scalpel to THE MOST RIDICULOUSLY RED AND SENSITIVE AND SWOLLEN part of my body. He had tried to give me a local anesthetic, but try sticking a needle onto that MOST RIDICULOUSLY RED AND SENSITIVE AND SWOLLEN part of my body. Yeah not so much. I'm lying on the table squeezing the nurse's hand, going "FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!" Biting my own arm. Sweating. Flailing. Kicking. Reduced to paroxysms. Reduced. Period.

As he was leaving the nurse to help me gather my things, the doctor said to her, "Make sure she gets a sucker on the way out."

Me: A sucker? How about a drink?!?

The only thing I can think to say is that it was utterly unlike any pain I've ever experienced in my ENTIRE LIFE. The pain of a scalpel on a very raw infection. The pain of that scalpel and the pain of pressure and the pain of the doctor pushing to get some stuff out. The kind of pain that I would do anything in my power to avoid experiencing EVER AGAIN.

I had my favorite pizza for dinner last night and it was yummy.

Bagel with cream cheese for breakfast. Two donuts in the middle of the day. Thick pan pizza for dinner. If this thing doesn't kill me by infection, it'll give me a heart attack because of a rapidly gained 20 pounds.