Daniel's Death #3

The third and final time I died, my lungs had filled up with fluid.

I kept repeating the Sufi verse "Cleanse the rheum from out thine head, and breathe the breath of God instead". But my lungs had fluid in them; I was edemic. I remember quite clearly panicking and hanging onto a nurse, pleading with her not to let me go. She complied, and I never saw her again.

Instead I woke up to a man putting a catheter in my... well, penis. I've never been the same since that day. I felt violated. Ironically, I didn't feel any pain when he put that thing in. It hurt more when it came out. And since then, I only go #1 in drips and drops. I'd like to be able to hold more in again.

Anyway, I'm not sure what they did, but the fluid cleared out. Since then, I decided I had to take more responsibility for my physical health. The dialysis clinic wasn't keeping track of anything. I was on my own.

The damndest thing is - although I'm pretty sure this is the last time, I believe I had changed clinics for my second one. Even now, I remember my past like a dream. Was my old life a dream that I remember? Or this happy one a dream that I'm trying to wake up from? Can I be sure?