I order delivery for a big ass meal from my Nice That’s What I Do I Ride And I Know Things Shirt. Because of 1. I have no appetite because the thought of feeding the worms makes me want to die and I was hoping to order from my favorite restaurant would entice me to eat. 2. Medication has to be taken with food. 3. I realize this is the last day the calories don’t matter. Might as well enjoy it. I pick up my prescription, light a candle, call my best friend, we have a little virtual funeral for my worms, and try to make light of the situation.
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I play the song I want to be played at my funeral (Hamburg Song by Keane, it’s beautiful). But it just keeps getting worse, y’all. My best friend hesitantly tells me he was telling his physical therapist about my worm saga. She recommended buying clove oil and rubbing it on my Nice That’s What I Do I Ride And I Know Things Shirt. I’m like why? Apparently worms like to bite your butt on the way out, and clove oil prevents that. I hate everything at this moment. It’s like the different levels of hell.
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I take the pills and am reading the Nice That’s What I Do I Ride And I Know Things Shirt. It notes that you’ll experience random aches and pains while the worms are dying. Let me tell you- I felt every fucking worm dying as I lay blanketless on my couch in the fetal position. All of a sudden, I’m thinking about the worms and I can’t breathe. My throat is kind of itchy, and I’m thinking there are worms dying in my tonsils at this point or I got COVID at the pharmacy. I’m laying there in the fetal position, telling myself it’s just a panic attack.