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The ramblings and observations of a kidney transplant recipient, although not necessarily for that reason.

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Thursday, July 27, 2006
I have been thinking the past few days about the consequences of me being immunosuppressed. For some reason the following scenario actually scares me a little.

Let's say its the year 2015, and some new dumbass president of the US decides to press THE button. You know which button I'm talking about. Now let's pretend some other world power strikes back . Doomsday, now what.....well, some of us survive (and of course I'm one of them). Let's say its safe to surface in month or so (not because that's realistic, but because that's when I'll run out of medications).

So in a month, we all put on our camouflage clothing (that's apparently the only kind of attire that makes it through in post-apocalyptic Hollywood movies, so that's the image I'll stick with here), and head out to see what's left of the world. I'm totally screwed. The rest of you will all be foraging for food and water, but the first thing on my mind is how am I gonna find a lifetime supply of Cellcept and some other stupid study drug that hasn't even been approved by the FDA yet. How am I gonna keep my kidney working so it can clean the blood that has to flow through my new prophetic baby head (sprouting out of my side from the high levels of radiation), which is supposed to lead the resistance against the robot army the world's computers have created to rid the planet of human existence? (I name the head Moby).

First I will have to start looting the drug stores, but of course I won't be the first one to get there. Some other asshole will have emptied out all the shelves, kept the pain killers for himself, then will have thrown all my immunsuppressants into the day glow green river on the edge of town. Of course the same will be true at the hospitals, doctors offices, and drug manufacturing plants. You goddamn drugstore cowboys! My new nemeses!

My survival potential will be severly curtailed during the earth's rebuilding period after a nuclear war. Can you believe this is what keeps me (and Moby) up at night?
posted by othur-me @ 3:04 PM  
  • At 6:37 PM, Blogger Jester said…

    You're forgetting the simple solution:

    When it appears that the end is near, just head straight for Long's. I suggest you hunker down in the Twinkie aisle (cause every one knows Twinkies will survive Armageddon). You'll have a large supply of jigsaw puzzles, magazines, books, and cheap games to keep you entertained; a huge selection of brightly colored hawaiian print shirts to keep you clothed; and of course, first crack at the pharmacy. Do me a favor and save me some Ambien and Viagra... just because it's the end of the world doesn't mean I should have to suffer impotently. :D

    Oh yeah, pass me a twinkie.

  • At 11:04 AM, Blogger othur-me said…

    Yeah, I'm sure we'll live a looooong time eating twinkies!

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