Clarke

Alex ClarkeCreative Writing 507-01

Bellamy 22 October 2012

Dictionary ExerciseThe Chronicles of Immune Deficiency

Immunity: From my head to my toes to my breasts and my nose, I’m covered in spots. Sore all over I feel the shakes. I tremble and I quiver and I quake and I wrap myself in a thousand blankets to ease my aches. I lie on the couch as cold as a freezer at 0 degrees. It didn’t seem to help much. I cough and sneeze and choke and wheeze and I see my life flash before me. I could feel the disorientation kicking in and my veins pulsating as I see tiny red dots and flash of yellow and gold light in the darkness on the inside of my eyelids. All of a sudden, there was this awful burning sensation in my vagina. It felt like someone set it on fire. It was one of the worst feelings I could possibly feel. Next came my stomach, which made me feel the urge to purge. “OH GOD! MAKE IT STOP!” I screamed. I gulped down a huge glass of orange juice. Maybe that will do the trick? Then I collapse. I think I need to go the hospital.

Incontinence: It flows and flows and flows and I can’t get it to stop. The droopiness and the smell of rotten eggs and fish, it overwhelms my senses completely. There’s nothing the doctor’s can do? I don’t believe it. There’s always something a doctor can do. They just choose not to do it. Oh! Did I mention? I’M ON FIRE DOWN THERE!

Indigestion: I’m wired differently. My circuitry functions and flows differently than everybody else. That includes my bladder and my intestines. They don’t digest food very well. Nobody was expecting any of that from me. Although, it doesn’t surprise them, because people have always thought that I was weird. I’ve always had trouble with yeast infections, incontinence and even constipation. I was born with pretty bad plumbing if you know what I mean. It’s always “backed up” in someway. I even sometimes have to go to the bathroom more than 3 times a day. I can never seem to hold it in and it always comes out at the worst possible times. I can’t even stop passing gas in front of people. Oh Well! Guess I have to load up on my Gas-X.

Infection: The touch of his hand sends electric signals all throughout my bloodstream. I feel weak and nauseous. My heart jumps through hoops and I fall to my knees. Why do I feel this way? I tremble and I can’t focus on anything else. The world around me evaporates and I’m in a trance. I have never felt this way before. What do I do? He brings so much happiness to my life.

Ingrown Toenail: I have the ability to curl my toes all the way to my heel. But it curls into a ball on the bed of the nail. My parents are completely puzzled and my crush won’t even look at me because of how hideous they are. It’s like an inside out lollipop swirl and my cat loves to lick it. It’s yellow and green with a hint of pink and purple. I now have to go to the hospital to get it fixed. Then maybe it will look somewhat “normal”. If not, then I’m going to insist I join the circus and never look back. I look like a clown anyway.

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Inhalation: As I breathe in and then out, the scent of his cologne overwhelms my body like nobody’s business. I keep thinking the moment is going to come, but it never does. Frozen like an ice-cream sandwich, I lie down and imagine myself anywhere but this minute. Just to have him near is enough. But who am I kidding? My breath is shallow and the pits of my stomach wallow in their own juices but it’s not meant to happen. I blow him one last kiss before we say our goodbyes. Maybe I’m just not the type to have a crush or fall in love? Or maybe that one special person will make me feel like a chimney that’s going to blow with lust and burning sensation? The time will come. And when it does, it’ll be something to remember.

Injection: I’ve always been an adult trapped in a child’s body. I’ve had a baby face and “little girl” looks all throughout my 21 years. I’ve pretty much reached my height limit and I currently have the bodily function of a 40 to 50-year-old woman. The doctors gave me growth hormone so I can look and act my age. The boys however like girls that look “younger” and more “youthful”. Yeah right. That must be why they flock to me like a vulture does to a dead body. Do I really need a growth hormone? My height isn’t that unusual and there are plenty of people who are a lot shorter than me. And most of them are at an average height and weight for their age. I just want to feel like a normal human being if that’s okay with you “doctors” out there. My body works differently from everyone else’s. So what? I go to school; I brush my teeth and eat breakfast, nothing abnormal going on here, just a 21-year-old college senior trying to keep her life under control. How many times do I have to keep getting these ridiculous diagnoses? I feel more poked than a roasted ham. Stuck in the prison of doctors and test after test. I think my body needs a rest.

Interception: The way he moves, it’s like a new dance that nobody has ever seen but me. Every inch is like nothing I’ve ever experienced before. I don’t want to share him with anyone else. I want him all to myself and nobody else is allowed. If anyone else even looks at him, I’ll take care of it personally.

Interjection: OH! NO! WHAT DID I DO WITH MY ANTIBIOTICS? I KNOW I LEFT IT ON THE COUNTER. I NEED IT FOR MY UNCONTROLLABLE YEAST INFECTION. IF I DON’T HAVE IT THEN MY STUPID VAGINA IS GONNA BE ON FIRE FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE. WHERE IS IT? I CAN’T FIND IT? I’M GONNA BE LATE FOR WORK. STUPID! STUPID! STUPID! THIS IS THE LAST TIME I GO TO A DOCTOR’S OFFICE WITH THE NAME “SMILE” IN IT.

Intoxication: I stumble, I trip, I cramp, I sneeze, I fall, I puke, I ball my eyes out and I heave. Those are only some of the feelings I get when my life is crumbling around me. My thoughts are my only safe haven. Shedding my tears, I wallow in my own misery wishing I could disappear and never come back. I’ve faced exile by everyone and I have nowhere to go. The hives break out and so do the swollen ankles. This can’t possibly be my life? The constant stress clogs up my ears and my head till it swells to the size of a balloon. I slip into unconsciousness and I don’t feel a thing. I wake up in the hospital with no memory of how I got there or what happened. The doctors told me I overdosed

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on cough pills combined with the 2 martinis, 2 beers and 5 tequila shots I plugged out at the bar. They told me I would be feeling pretty lousy for at least a day or so, because I did a number on myself. They also told me they’d have to keep me for a psych evaluation because I was a threat to myself. My parents burst into tears wondering why I would do such a horrible thing? I breakdown down trying to tell them how overwhelmed I am with emotion and I have no control over my life. My world is spinning and I can’t make it stop. At that point, the doctors, my friends and my family would do anything to try and take away my pain. The psychiatrist the doctors had me see diagnosed me with bipolar disorder, which explained a lot. Hurting myself was nothing more than a chemical reaction to the emotional and physical pain I was feeling. I was required to see a therapist at least once a week and I had to be on a strict regimen to keep the symptoms of this disorder under control. I don’t wanna be crazy. I don’t wanna feel trapped or restricted. I just want my life back. That’s not asking too much.

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