Tomorrow, I will go to a doctor’s office, where I will most probably run on a treadmill for a while, with countless electrodes attached to my body, and a large tube in my mouth. This is part of the process that I now need to go through, now that I have been diagnosed with Sarcoidosis. “Sarcoid”, as my friendly, yet brusque lung specialist has informed me, is a disease of the lungs. When I was first told this, the first thought through my mind was, “oh, fuck.” I immediately began cursing the fourteen-plus years I was a fairly heavy smoker, all of the cigars that I wantonly indulged in, and the long presence of other smokeables that I have greedily inhaled over the years. (Note: I am now basically drug-free, except for the occasional lapse in good judgement, where I bury myself in mounds of illicit drugs, less I become so straight I bottom out. This I do like some crazed version of Tony “Scarface” Montana, as girlfriend and family look on with a combination of disgust and sadness.)

(Note Deux: just kidding) Luckily, sarcoid is a somewhat harmless disease, in that it can end up serious, but often is nothing more than an irritant. It’s basically these tiny nodules that appear out of nowhere - kind of like goosebumps for the lungs, but lasting longer, and with a bit more repercussions if serious. The strange thing is that sarcoid can affect many different areas of the body. One of these areas is the eyes. This, of course, explains why I was diagnosed with glaucoma thirty years early, which is a relief in a way, as if my sarcoid is cured, my glaucoma should also go away. Hopefully. This will mean that the mornings when the world seemingly refuses to come into focus, or the late afternoons after work, when my eye actually ache with fatigue and physical stress, should go away. Hallelujah, I say. So yes; tomorrow I will run, and sweat, and breathe heavily. It’s an interesting way to start the new year.