The proverbial cows will come home before medical science figures this shit out

Cassandra Disque | February 21, 2007

After hearing from the boyfriend about all I was doing during my blackout, I called the 24-hour nurse phone line provided by my Medicaid. By all accounts, it appears that I was having a non-epileptic partial complex seizure, or even a temporal lobe seizure. For chrissakes. Inventory of my emergency pill bottle found that I [...]

the po-po took me home-home

Cassandra Disque | February 20, 2007

Is there anything to say behind the subject? Sunday night, I made fucking bank at work. Enough to pay off almost half off the tuition I owe from last year. More than makes up for the rest of this year’s coat check being shitty due to warm weather. The above means I got home at [...]

Laughing my way to the vaccination experiment (this time, I’m getting school credit for this)

Cassandra Disque | February 18, 2007

There have been approximately 120 strains of HPV discovered so far. Of these, 37 are sexually transmitted. The others cause non-cancerous types of skin viruses, such as plantar warts (strain numbers 1, 2, 4 & 10), common warts (strain numbers 2 & 7), flat warts (strain numbers 3 & 10), and subungual and periungual warts, [...]

"The Drag of Gimp"

Since 1996, my life has been a long journey of visiting one doctor after another. I look more or less fine, but I'm not. My daily pill count is like playing the dozens with a hospice patient. One doctor will say I'm doomed, and send me to another for treatment, but the treating doctor will find nothing within his or her area of practice that can be treated.

My life is better than a comedy, better than a drama. Anyone who has done this knows what I mean when I say that you have to not only know the rules, but also play the part in order to be allowed in the game. Most people find what we go through in the medical merry-go-round to be unbelievable, which is why I call it "The Drag of Gimp."


About the author

Cassandra Disque

Extemporaneous flibbertigibbet with bone lumps growing out of my coccyx. I was born in 1981. I was another case of "too much, too young," or at least I wanted to be. Now I'm leaning toward "too little, too late," as my body conks out on me, and I find I haven't done hardly any of the things I wanted. This is supposed to happen to people twice my age, so you might find my perspective on life to be a little unusual -- as in, I find just about everything to be hysterically funny, because there's little use in worrying when it's all going to go kaput.