“I couldn't live a week without a private library
- indeed, I'd part with all my furniture and squat and sleep on the floor
before I'd let go of the 1500 or so books I possess.” ― H.P. Lovecraft

Whistling In The Graveyard

Thursday, July 19, 2007

Oh sweet Jesus, pogo-sticking, tap-dancing Christ...

So I get to the goddamn hospital at goddamn 8 Am because that's when they goddamn asked me to goddamn be there. I say...

ME: “Hi, I'm here for the 8:30 surgery.”

NURSE: “Alright, I'll let them know you're here. They should get to you at about 11:30.”

ME: “Huh?”

NURSE: “11:30.”

ME: “The 8:30 surgery is scheduled for 11:30?”

NURSE: “Your surgery is scheduled for 11:30. The doctor just likes to have all his patients here at the same time.”

ME: “So I'm here at 8 AM for an 8:30 surgery that can't possibly happen till at least 11:30, just because the doctor likes to have everyone here at the same time?”

NURSE: “Yes.”

ME: “Fuck me.”

So about 10:00 they take me back to a small closet-sized room where I strip down, put on my hospital gown and watch the Beverly fucking Hillbillies till about one-o-FUCKING-clock in the goddamn afternoon, which I just as easily done at my own fucking house, but for lack of my own hospital gown.

At first I was cautious with the recliner so as not to show everyone in the hallway my junk, but by the end I didn't care. I had the foot rest up, feet on it, knees in the air, legs spread saying “Check out my balls hospital!” “Look upon my nads oh ye mighty and despair!”

I did get a phone number or two...

Anyways, I sit there till one o'clock in the FUCKING afternoon before they take me back for my 8:30 surgery.

About twelve different people ask me my name and birthdate, they explain the procedure, shoot me up full of blood thinners and valium and off I go into surgery.

I wake up, feeling as though I'd just nodded off and caught myself, and I hear the doctors talking about something not working and not knowing what to do.

Naturally, this made me a little curious.

It turns out that I have some kind of muscle spasms in my legs that make it impossible to get the laser through the vein in my leg to the point where they need it, so the surgery didn't get done.

Yeah.

Oh, also, instead of being out for 20 minutes like they told me I would be, I was out for an hour.

So that's a whole fucking day down the tubes because by the time I got out of there and back home it was like 5 PM. Whole day shot and nothing got done. Fuck, again, I could have fucking accomplished that at home.

And the worst part of the whole fucked up situation is that Victoria was going to come down and 'nurse me back to health' (wink-wink, nudge-nudge) and now it's too goddamn late at night to make that drive from Columbus, because she'd get here and just have to turn around and go right back.

So I got cock-blocked in every possible meaning of the term. How was your day?



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