So, hot on the heels of the attempted leg surgery I had my hernia appointment in Morgantown.

I must admit that I was a bit stressed. So when my Mom, who usually drives me to thing like this in case they drug me and tell me not to drive myself home, wasn't feeling well I decided to drive myself. This would give me some time to chill out and spend some time with my first true love.



Ain't she a beauty?

Anyhow, I thought the solo trip would be relaxing and it would allow me to actually go to some of the places I like to go, which is impossible when mom drives. If I'm lucky I can run into Gateway Comics or The Den (Formerly The Discount Den)for about 15 minutes. Any longer than that and she'll come in and as geeky as one feels just being in a comic book store, it gets exponentially worse when your Mom walks in.

Plus it's kinda hard to justify paying three bucks or more for a 30 page comic book with her there at the actual moment of purchase...

MOM: "You're paying three dollars for that?"

ME: "But it's Bruce Campbell fighting superheroes that have turned into zombies..."

MOM: "Isn't he that actor you like from the Old Spice commercials?"

ME: "He's not FROM the commercials, he's IN the commercials There's a distinction there."

MOM: "Whatever. Honestly I don't know why you buy these things when you could just be making your own..."

ME: "I DO make my own. You just don't read them ever."

MOM: "You mean the one with the foul mouthed purple duck on the website that hasn't updated since March?"

ME: "He's not a duck..."

COMIC STORE GUY: "Can I just get the three dollars so I can go to fucking lunch please?"

So it was cool that I'd be able to hit some of my favorite spots. Maybe even go to a Dairy Mart and pick up a Stromboli To anyone that's ever had one, the Dairy Mart pizza Stromboli is simply the most delicious thing in the world and despite the fact that I've been in Morgantown many, MANY times since I graduated I haven't had one since 1999 because I always seem to be there with Mom.

The day before the trip Mom informs me that she'll be going after all because she doesn't trust my car to get me there and back.

And Grandma was going too.

Fuck.

Now as I've stated many times, Grandma kicks ass. Going anywhere else it wouldn't be a problem that she was coming along. Given that she was now going it was guaranteed that not only would I not get my 15 uncomfortable minutes in the comic book store, but I wouldn't even get over to that side of the hill to stare at it, teary eyed, through the window as we drove past it.

there was also this to contend with:



111.6 miles, 1 Hour and 52 minute drive, for a normal person. I can do it in an hour. With Mom driving it takes about two and a half. So to make my 12:45 appointment I had to be ready to go at 9 AM. 9 AM and I have never had a good working relationship. In fact, if I could kick 9 AM's ass I would, but it's an abstract concept and I'm not in my best fighting condition at the moment.

But I awake at the ass-crack of dawn, get ready, and off I goddamn go.

The trip was long, boring and uneventful. The only part of it worthy of noting is that, where Mom usually won't allow any music to be played while she's in a vehicle, she actually put in the Leonard Cohen album I gave her, so it could have sucked more.

I get to the hospital and get in immediately. First, the weigh-in...

I lost another 6 lbs this month.

I always hate starting off on good news. It sets you up for a higher fall.

Even so, I still felt pretty good.

I was pretty sure that the appointment was going to end with me having a date for the surgery. Usually, when they put you into the schedule you're coming in behind about two months of people who are already booked. My surgery was going to take a lot of time and a lot of people, so I figured it might take three months or more to get in.

So you can imagine my surprise when, while drinking the diet Coke they'd generously provided, the nice, attractive, young assistant asks me if August 23rd would be ok.

I'm sure it wasn't as much of a surprise as the one she got, being suddenly (and thoroughly) covered in the mist of diet Coke that shot through my nose.

Damn I'm smooth.

But yes, August 23rd, of THIS YEAR I will finally be getting my goddamn hernia fixed!

FUCK YEAH!

Next thing I knew I was answering pre-surgical questionnaires and having blood samples taken.

The fun part of that is when they ask the question about blood transfusions.

NURSE: "How many transfusions?"

ME: "Six."

NURSE: "Do you remember the dates of each of them?"

ME: "December 31st 2001."

NURSE: "And the others?"

ME: "December 31st 2001."

NURSE: "All within 24 hours?"

ME: "All at the same time as I understand it. Technically it was one transfusion of six pints of blood, but since the odds of any two of those pints having come from the same person is astronomical it counts as six transfusions."

NURSE: "You realize that's about half your blood right?"

ME: "I found it kinda difficult to ignore that bit of trivia, yeah."

Later, as she was typing my information into the computer I saw a little window with the words "Alert, aware..." Ahh, evaluating my psychological state, this should be interesting.

"Talks incessantly..." I got a bit of a chuckle out of that one. After that she added "Apparently capable of reading the computer screen from across the room..."

Smart ass...

Anyway, the important news is that the surgery is on AUGUST 23rd. I'll be posting further information as I get it. For now all I know is that it's on the 23rd and they'll be working on me for five hours under total anesthesia, and after that they'll be keeping me for 5 to 7 days. It'll probably be closer to 5 because I heal twice as fast at a real hospital as I do at the one that fucking poisoned me.

Funny how that works isn't it?

So the hospital info is:

Ruby Memorial Hospital
PO Box 8059, Morgantown, WV, 26506

Patient Information: (304) 598-4400

I'll post the room number and phone number on the blog as soon as I regain consciousness, as I'll have my sister's laptop with me and the entire hospital has wi-fi capability. I'll also be requesting a private room so all you ladies reading this can test to see just how fully I've recovered. ;D

The greatest struggle in all of this will be resulting the urge to look for porn until they've removed the catheter...

And speaking of masturbating, I'm off.

I'm leaving you with this, just because it makes me happy. :D

Ok, got to my appointment, got home from my appointment.

In-between good news was had.

Sometime tomorrow I will give it the lengthy post it deserves, but for now I'm fucking beat.

I'm gonna go get about twelve hours of sleep.

Can't sleep.

Appointment in Morgantown at 12:45 to set the date for the hernia surgery.

Gotta wake up at 9:00 AM to get there.

Been awake since 12 AM yesterday.

Gonna shower and sleep now.

Wish me luck.

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.