Ok, update time again.

So I went in for a surgery that was only supposed to take 30 minutes, spent seven or eight hours there (an hour of which I was unconscious on liquid Valium) and the surgery didn't get done.

Liquid Valium, by the way, is pretty good shit. It makes you sleepy faster than morphine, but you wake up faster and without the after effects.

The over long surgery was directly responsible for not being able to see Victoria that day.

And then, the day after, I go to the wrestling show gig only to find that I've been replaced.

I was let go from a job that I was doing for free.

Somehow the word 'loser' just doesn't seem to fit...

I mean, I'm not mad about it or anything. I fully expected to be replaced eventually, hell I was only doing it because they couldn't find anyone else to do it in the first place. It just seemed like the perfect way to end that week

And technically I wasn't 'let go' per-se. The story is they were trying these guys out for the road shows, but hell, the St Mary's Bait & Tackle Shop, a 20 minute drive, IS a road show for me when you consider that I wouldn't walk across the street to watch a wrestling show. If these guys are willing to do the job they're welcome to it. I'll likely only get a last minute call if the new guys cancel out on them.

I've already taken all the stereo equipment back up to my bedroom, from whence I don't plan on removing it. It would seem I've retired from the DJ business.

I did get reimbursed for gas money though and knowing that it was probably the last show I'd ever go to I made sure to fill up on free concession-stand food and drinks. Plus I got to hang out with the guys backstage, some of whom have kinda become friends, AND I got to pull ¾ inch staples out of a guy's skull with pliers after the hardcore match.

Why did he have staples in his skull? Why to hold on the two dollar bills that covered his forehead naturally.

I didn't ask where they put his change...

Oh yeah, I almost forgot. Walking around all day (which I wasn't supposed to be doing after the attempted surgery) my back started to hurt. I kinda vaguely recalled feeling a twinge when getting off the gurney and onto the operating table the day before, but paid it little mind because, well, Valium will do that to you.

Well it seems that I'd hurt my back. That's right, I hurt myself IN the goddamn hospital, going into a surgery that didn't happen, effectively coming out in worse shape than I was going in.

I think tomorrow I'm just going to walk backwards down the freeway. If everything keeps going like it has been I should trip and fall backwards into a pile of money.

Anyhow, they want to keep the appointment for August 2nd to try the right leg. They say that sometimes people have leg spasms once and when they try a second time they don't. They also said that other factors could be accountable, things as subtle as the temperature of the room, or even my hernia could affect things.

Mom suggested that perhaps the leg spasms were from being nervous about Victoria coming to visit, but I explained that it's not my LEGS that she causes to twitch...

Predictably she didn't see the humor in that. Oh well.

Now, usually, when met with opposition from all sides as I have been, I would assume that I'm somehow going against the will of the universe, but if everything I've gone through hasn't been leading me towards getting my body fixed then where has it been leading? Cause I have to tell you, I was kinda looking forward to having my body fixed.

Existentialism is a bitch.

But if I've learned anything from all I've been through it's that if you defy the flow of the universe too many times it'll make you pay. The universe is kinda like a woman in that respect. I've been cut off. No life for me till I fucking get with it and do what the universe needs me to do. Problem is, also like a woman, the universe won't tell you what you need to do. It gives you that “Well you should KNOW what to do if you'd been paying any attention at all” bullshit.

Oh, I should point out though, since I mentioned her earlier, these rules don't apply to Victoria. Well, the bit about making you pay if you fuck up applies, but not the rest of it. She's pretty direct.

YES, she really exists...

Unsupportive motherfuckers...

And that reminds me, whenever she has to cancel a visit for scheduling reasons it doesn't bother me. Unlike me, she has shit to do. I understand that, and if her schedule doesn't bother ME then it damn sure shouldn't bother ANYONE ELSE, so quit giving me shit about it.

Awright, the sun is up, so I need sleep. I'll tell a funny story or some of the other bullshit I do here later.

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...

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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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...

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:

“Violins”


“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.

Yes. GIRLFRIEND. ME.

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.





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