A day in the life of a Leper…

By Greg Morrow
Bleeding Bathroom
This morning marks my third successful year, living with leperacy. I was in high hopes that my medical team, recognizing the anniversary, might have a little something. You know, nothing big; disposable plates of course, maybe a sheet cake. These like most dreams however came tumbling down in yet another loose pile of gauze and tissue loss. They say that one is the loneliest number off all, but seeing for the first time in the mirror that I was now down to two fingers, I beg to differ. Thank God the remaining fingers are pointer middle. At least I can still point to the person I’m flipping the bird too.

"It's true what they say, the first appendage you lose really is the hardest"

I really can’t complain I guess. The staff at the outpatient clinic is nice enough. They keep me up to my elbows in Styrofoam pill cups and just last week the order came in and they now offer latex alternative gloves. Unfortunately I discovered that allergy by way of condom. It’s true what they say, with leprocy the first appendage you lose really is the hardest. My pee comes out in a fan spray now. But I get by.

Its sad to say but it seems like the calls have all but quit coming in now. The first year or so the phone rang off the hook. Aunt Mildred was so sweet when she tried to comfort me by telling me of similar struggles faced by uncle Chip. It didn’t even really matter that Chip hadn’t been sick at all and had ran off to Norway with some girl I was always taught to refer to as the “young hussy”. The sentiment was still sweet. At least my friends still call to wish me all their best. They politely apologize for never coming over because I kind of gross them out now. Despite that, it’s nice to hear a friendly voice. I’m glad I don’t get constant reporter calls, all wanting to cover the story, none wanting to touch my hand. Still I miss explaining how this could happen in modern day society. I guess everybody really does have fifteen minutes of fame. I’m just sorry that there is no place on my body capable of counting that high. Well got to go for now. My eyes hurt form looking at the screen and I can’t afford to lose one of those. More to come soon, you know if the voice software comes in.

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