Saturday, June 26, 2010

it's true...alas or "fuck you, liver"

I am a sick man....  I am a spiteful man.  I am an unattractive man.  I believe my liver is diseased.  However, I know nothing at all about my disease, and do not know for certain what ails me.  I don't consult a doctor for it, and never have, though I have a respect for medicine and doctors. Besides, I am extremely superstitious, sufficiently so to respect medicine, anyway (I am well-educated enough not to be superstitious, but I am superstitious).  No, I refuse to consult a doctor from spite.  That you probably will not understand.  Well, I understand it, though.  Of course, I can't explain who it is precisely that I am mortifying in this case by my spite: I am perfectly well aware that I cannot "pay out" the doctors by not consulting them; I know better than anyone that by all this I am only injuring myself and no one else.  But still, if I don't consult a doctor it is from spite. My liver is bad, well--let it get worse!

4 comments:

  1. was in New York then, am in New York now.

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  2. Symptoms? Maybe stay away from alcohol for a while and see what happens? I somewhat understand the reluctance to see a doctor; I've had multiple fiascos where they've only made me more sick, but maybe just getting some blood tests would put your mind at ease?

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  3. Oh LAR, I love you for thinking that I wrote that. I wish I did, but it's actually from Dostoevsky's Notes from the Underground.

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