Body, You Suck

The BBQ Pit
1

You know, Body, I put up with a lot of shit from you.

Ok, yea, it’s my fault we picked up that little burn on the back of my right hand. So I’m sorry.

But I still put up with way too much of your shit and I’m sick of it.

First off, what the hell is up with your obsessive clinging to poundage? We’re not gonna starve, dude, we live across the street from the Kroger. Just let go. I know you’re very fond of some of those fat cells and hey, we’ve been through a lot together, but it’s time to let go. I don’t eat that much to begin with–even the doctor was baffled by you, you freak–and you insist on clinging to the bagel I had a week ago. It’s time to let go.

Secondly, even when you do stuff, you don’t do it right. The immune system is a fine thing, but do you have to overreact to everything? Yes, I know the plant sperm in the air is fucking disgusting, but seriously, it’s no reason to turn on the Mucus Pumps. It’s not going to hurt us. Geraniums aren’t going to sprout in my nose hairs. And do we have to do the eczema/contact dermatitis thing every fucking month? I wear cotton clothes, use Dermatologist-approved detergent, pamper you with expensive ass hypoallergenic soap, don’t eat any weird foods, sleep on plain, white cotton sheets and still you insist on launching the nuclear fucking missiles at whatever the hell’s irritating you. I don’t even know! We’re gonna have to pay for allergy testing just to figure out what your fucking problem is, just so I can move through the day without having a giant, evil red rash popping up all over the place. Seriously, having a face that looks severely sunburned, not to mention the cracking and oozing on my legs, because you’re going batshit psycho because of plant jizz or whatever…well, it’s just not cool.

And if you just HAD to launch the nuclear fucking immune system missiles at whatever’s pissing you off this week, did you have to do it when my right hand’s wrapped up in gauze? It’s kinda hard to smear that nasty steroidal cream shit on your various rashes when your good hand’s wrapped up like Lon Fucking Cheney. Oh yea, you hate that stuff, because then I can lead a semi-normal life, rather than itching like a motherfucker cause you’re going psycho about the dandelions or whatever.

You could at least pick something normal or consistent to react to. You could get your immune system rocks off from time to time and I could learn to avoid stuff. But no. It has to be some weird thing with no real pattern.

And if that wasn’t enough, do you have to grace me with your obnoxious migraines? It’s not that I don’t LIKE feeling like I’m going to puke and being light sensitive when I have the stabbing-icepick-headache…well, yea, that’s pretty much it, I don’t like it. Nobody’s impressed with you, frankly, and I’d trade you in for a better model in a split second. Or at least a model with consistent, predictable behavior.

In short, Body, you suck.

2

Speak for yourself, I’ve just evolved to pure energy.

It’s not that great.

3

Perhaps you and your body need some group counseling? :smiley:

4

I passed 40 a few years back, which means that my body has evolved to pure lack of energy. It’s also developed a litany of weird aches and pains of the annoying-but-not-quite-bad-enough-to-see-a-doctor-about variety. (My doctor is of the “let’s see what happens” variety, so unless you’re curled up in a tight ball of pain or actually gushing blood from an orifice, he has a tendency to tell you to walk it off.)

I wish that science would spend more time on the not-sick-but-feeling-vaguely-punk areas of medicine.

5

I’m pissed because I seem to be allergic to something that’s blooming right now, but the manifestation of that isn’t having a stuffed or running nose. No, it’s a near-constant low-level headache, it’s just enough to be unpleasant without being enough to stop me from doing anything. It beats the horrible migraine I had a week ago, but it’s rather awful.

And I already feel the middle-aged aches and pains thing due to, among other things, having spectacularly bad scoliosis. I’m only 27. (28 later this month. Aaagh!) Distances on foot are a pain, literally. I finally gave in and yesterday I bought a scooter. It’s absolutely adorable, and it is going to make getting around indescribably better. Still, it stings a bit. Better to sit down now than to wear my poor joints out young and really suffer later, though!

6

Yea, that’s what worries me. I have all these friggin’ problems and I’m only 23. I’ll be dead by 40 at this rate.