“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: July 15, 2007

Friday, July 20, 2007

Ok, I just talked to my surgeon's office.

Aparently the spasms in my legs that prevented them from feeding the laser through my have been caused by pressure from my hernia.

Yes, the hernia in my abdomen is so massive that it may be causing problems all the way down to my ankles.

Of course it could have been something as simple as the temperature in the room or the way I was laying they say, so really they don't fucking know. It's just that, being doctors, they can't SAY that they don't know. It's the first thing they teach you in doctor school.

So the plan is to try again on August 2nd, as previously planned for the right leg and go back and try the left one again two weeks after that.

So more and more and MORE surgery! YAY!

Of course, if the August 2nd surgery doesn't work then I presume they won't try again two weeks after, but what the fuck do I know? I'm just the goddamn patient...

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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.


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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Awright, another short but sweet one.

I'm to show up at the hospital in just a tad under seven hours from now. The same hospital, in point of fact, that fucking killed me a short while back.

I may have mentioned it once or twice in passing...

I wanted to do it somewhere else, but this is where my surgeon does his surgery and he's the best there is at what he does. Actually, I'll amend that, he's the best at what he does IN THIS TOWN.

That's an important goddamn distinction.

I go in at 8:00 AM, supposed to hit surgery at 8:30, only supposed to be unconscious for about 20 minutes or so and then I get released.

Sounds simple don't it?

Yeah, that fucking worries the hell out of me.

I have a way of complicating things. It's a damn good thing that I also have a way of beating odds.

And yes, I realize how goddamn prophetic that will sound if something goes terribly wrong...

But enough of that bullshit. This is minor surgery by any measure, but especially when compared to the shit I've already been through. For instance, did you know that when you have an intestinal perforation they have to check ALL of your intestines, every inch, for other perforations? Yeah, I don't even want to know how that works, but there's a good chance it involves all of my innards being pulled out and handled and then shoved back in.

Comparatively this should be a walk in the goddamn park.

One way or another I WILL make it back to my house though. See, I've got a date with a damn sexy nurse who's gonna check me over to make sure everything still works.

And she's VERY thorough...

So when I recover from my recovery (probably next week sometime) I'll post about what the hospital fucked up this time. Till then, here's a link to Maddox's post about the iPhone. I wanted to write an article about that overpriced hunk of crap, but I don't know anything about cellphones. I don't own one and I don't want to. Well Maddox does own one AND know technology, so I suggest anyone else that owns one (roughly ALL of you) should read this ESPECIALLY if you were thinking about buying that stupid fucking thing.

And just in case something DOES go wrong...

Tuesday, July 17, 2007

Ok, usually I wait until I get a few comments on my last post before I post a new one, but you fuckers are slacking and I've got shit going on.

First, I'd like to announce that I've volunteered to help promote the baddest-ass haunted house in the Columbus Ohio area: The House Of Nightmares.

Check out their videos:


“You'll Be Much Happier” (AKA 'Medical Mayhem')

Now, why am I doing this? Partially because I love Halloween and a good haunted house, but mostly because those videos (which will be cut down and aired on television as commercials) feature my girlfriend.


You people know her as Mistress Victoria

She prefers the term 'Mistress' to 'Girlfriend' but what woman wouldn't if given the choice?

Right now you're all trying to decide which idea baffles you more, the thought of me with a girlfriend, or the idea that she's totally fucking HOT.

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Oh ye of little faith...

Yeah, alright, I'm shocked too, but something good had to happen after all the other shit I've had to put up with. I mean, I used to be a little irritated by all the pain and the cutting and the dying and shit, but this might just make me about even with the universe.

For a little while anyways.

And you'd THINK that everyone would be happy about this, but so far it's pretty much just Victoria and I. YES, I've heard a ton of reasons why this isn't 'good for me' and well intentioned though that advice may have been I'm going to follow my gut on this one.

Of course, by 'gut' I mean 'dick'. You guys know what I mean, am I right?

So please, if you have anything negative to say about me being happy, keep it to your damn self. I'm following the orders of my physician on this one.

ME: “Doc, what are the risks of me 'fooling around' in my current condition?”

DOC: “Fooling around?”

ME: “You know...”

DOC: “Oh. Well what's the situation?”

ME: “This woman that's about three zip codes out of my league has decided for some reason to give me a try and I haven't had a date since 1999.”

DOC: “If I were in your condition I wouldn't let it stop me.”

THERE. Doctors orders to pursue this. And you all want me to follow doctor's orders right?

More later. I'm tired. Can't wait to read the comments on this one...

PS: Just so you ladies out there aren't worried, this doesn't mean I'm off the market. It just means that to get to me you have to have sex with both of us. :D

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Sunday, July 15, 2007

I've had this song stuck in my head for a couple days now. Found it doing research for a post about GWAR because people keep asking me about who they are. But since I have to run out for a bit (going to the farm, which is appropriate, given the song) here's the song till I get back.

Now it's stuck in YOUR heads.

Feel my POWER!!!

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