Nice Jim Jams

If I were a car, even I wouldn’t buy me.

There just seems to be too many missing or broken parts, lets see, no appendix, no gall bladder, broken shoulder, no prostate, barely remembers things, and the blood is tainted with cancer. Did you say, you’ll pay me to remove this body off the block?

I came home last Wednesday (ANZAC day), spent a couple of hours at work, and a couple more on Thursday and Friday. Next thing I know, those who love me gave me a good old fashioned ear bashing. Nothing like being pushed further below the water line when you’re trying to get on top of things.

I counted 5 (female) nurses who adored my pyjama pants when I was at hospital, I’m now contemplating wearing them out to the shops. For some reason they recognised some dude whose name appeared on my jammy’s called Peter Alexander, just hope he’s not some gay icon. Everyone knows I’m not gay, right? Nothing against gay people, but I can do without the unwanted attention particularly as I’m a bit of a pretty boy and muscular!

Here’s a pic of me suffering in front of the television screen.

I’m of higher and better spirits in the last couple of days because I’ve self diagnosed a double dose of sleeping tabs. I’m sleeping almost as soon as I hit the pillow and then struggle to get out of bed by 8:30am. Problem however is that I’m still drowsy during the remainder of the day.

If there are any credible persons reading this with a Medical background can you leave a comment below please. I’ve changed to 2 x 5mg Diazepam? If this dosage is not causing the tiredness then I may need to worry once again. Crap!

I’m alive

I could hardly take credit to finally waking up and discovering I survived the operation, as I’d been woken up about a hundred times during the course of the day.

If it’s not the physio who wants me to give 3 almighty huffs followed by a cough, 2 laps down the hallway (it dawned on me why my mum called me turtle) … and then 3 deep breathes every hour … or the nurse who needed to refuel the drip … or the food delivery service guy … or the pair of nurses where one reads my wristlet band while the other hands me a dose of pills …

I could possibly give sleeping a go.

My son Ben, bless his heart texted me from downstairs to let me know that he had purchased a Cappuccino. Great, the very last thing I want right at this moment. So I chugged it down with appreciation. Thank you son.

Later tonight the surgeon came in to evaluate my condition and suggested I could be home tomorrow. I just knew the extra lap would pay off, no pain no gain, yup that’s me. He also left me with a couple of Polaroid shots of my chest cavity, explaining in detail the story behind each picture. I accepted his version that the foaming gue was infection, but did he have to burst it while it was still inside me with his soldering iron.

I was seriously wondering if that was an ‘oopsy’ moment.

The white sausage like piece of meat is the Gall Bladder and apparently the shape and size of this one suggests it’s filled with explosive devices, so the surgeon is careful positioning it for the right camera shot. Immediately below it and surprisingly, that’s my liver, the surgeon said that it looks very healthy. I feel sad that the months of alcohol abstinance must have turned it into a monastery. Cheer up old fellow, I’ll have a glass of wine after this.

I wanted to upload another groovy pic of the gall bladder oozing all of it’s bubbly goodness, but the family jeered and boo’ed at this proposal so I was left to battle my conscience. Do I upload it for the shock value or for educational purposes? I’ll sneak it onto the blog at a later time [insert evil laugh here].

Minus one gall bladder

Feeling really groggy, vision is a bit blurry (wait, that’s normal), throat parched, still hungry, feels like someone’s shot me 3 times in the gut … what am I doing on the Internet?

Hospitals make you feel lonely, however the fast food service of morphine is exceptional. Would have been nice to wake up to a surprise party of Circus Clowns, balloons, animals and magic tricks. I’m a little disappointed.

I’ve got serious tummy pains, and all I want are the Chocolate Lamingtons Lisa and Sarah brought in earlier tonight. Shall I risk it? Even decisions are difficult under anesthetic, … What I really need is either a coin or a dice right now.

Weight Watchers would be happy with me, Google says the average gall bladder weighs 350 grams, and all I want is dessert to celebrate.

Ok, let’s get real, I’m going to try and sleep now, yeah right, like that’s going to happen. At least the TV is going to be my companion tonight, channel surfing here I come.

Good night all.

Mon, 23rd April – The Gall of it

Now that has to be a stroke of bad luck. I’m in hospital once more after a severe bout of abdominal / chest pains very early this morning.

After chugging down 3 cups of some green liquid and being injected with a solution that felt hot as it travelled through my veins, the verdict was cholecystitis (thank gawd for this blogs auto speller). For the uninitiated, this medical term means … ‘type up an invoice for $5,000 please nurse’.

In T minus 2.5 hours, I’ll be laying on the carving table poised to have another organ removed and the anesthetic juice should be fresh at this time of the week. I’m now considering an investment for a time share at this hospital because of my frequent visits.

I am so hungry, last meal was dinner about 22 hours ago.

When Brad came and sat by my side for a little part of the day, we received a comment from a doctor, a wardsman and a nurse asking if we were brothers. Either I look very young or Brad looks “really” old, has to be the latter. This is obviously a sensitive topic for Brad, which I’m prepared to capitalise on at every opportunity I get … Snaaaapp!

Wish I had sold my gall bladder to some sod before it became useless. Anyone interested in a kidney? Go and bid on it like everyone else on eBay!

Handle me with Care and Caution

Just a couple of tips on how to interact with someone like me. I do feel obliged to spell this out so people can stop freaking me out. I’m not trying to be cavalier about this, nor do I wish to offend, but I am working on an alternative secret Colonel Sanders recipe to get myself out of this bind. Unfortunately, this plan is very fragile and can all come to nought at the slightest suggestion of failure or negativity, even when naively offered.

1. I have cancer, not the common cold. Please stop telling me it’s going to be alright unless you know the definitive cure for Cancer. The doctors tell me that the disease reacts differently for everyone. I could be a nifty bag of garden fertiliser within 12 months, or I could be writing a book about how I beat this, fathered 10 more children, won the lottery and how I now appreciate cigars and pedicures.

2. True, I won’t have further use for my wardrobe and that this space will be available sometime in the future, but you will have to search and bid for this piece of real estate on eBay like everyone else.

3. Be prepared for a paternity test, if you’re hoping to turn up for a cut of the Insurance handout. You should know that Brad is not the sharing kind and is currently learning Brazilian Ju Jitsu, and I think he knows how to dish out guillotine choker holds now.

4. Any funeral directors touting for business will need to have a qualified dog handler with them. My dog ‘Dawgie’ has a bite worse than his bark. I am however interested in genuine, no corners cut, Viking Burning Ship Burials’ at Sea, quotes.

5. I AM trying to be positive, and it’s bloody hard when everyone keeps reminding me to remain positive. What I really need is an introductory course in Shaolin Monkism Meditation 101 (in 5 easy steps). If anyone knows where I can pick up the tapes for this, please let me know. I can pick up or arrange delivery at my expense. If it’s a book, make sure it has lots of pictures, preferably cartoons … my attention span is almost non-existent and I’m easily entertained. If the CD has music, ideally monkeys should be able to dance to it.

6. If you really want to cheer me up, I enjoy Chicken Laksa, Mud Crab, Crayfish, Pineapple Lumps, Tamarillos and Coffee from Bonjour Patisserie (Wahroonga).

7. If you think you’re beautiful then a hug would be warmly and immensely appreciated. Groping encouraged but not advised.

Talk to you all again, laters alligators!

Wed, 18th April – 444

OK, this rant is going to be a weird one bordering on the ‘looney tunes’ and venturing into the ‘what the’ …

For the past 6 months or so I’ve been seeing the numbers 444 quite often and ordinarily I wouldn’t have blinked an eye lid, nor even shrug my shoulders as I would with the cocky confidence of someone who hadn’t broken one of their shoulders in a rugby game 3 years ago. Actually, lets not go there since Brad always reminds me that my come back ended after only 20 mins of play into the season. The words ‘pussy’ and ‘cry baby’ often accompany his taunts, just wait till he turns ‘almost’ 50.

You wouldn’t believe the number of times I would wake up at 4:44am, or check the time in the afternoon and it’s 4:44pm. I count the occassions only where I would unconsciously or randomly check the clock. Another time, Brad and I went on a shopping spree buying clothes and the bill came to $444. Another time, Lisa flicked her mobile on while I was filling the car with gas and it was 4:44pm. I returned after paying for the gas, switched the car on and the clock read 4:44pm (this clock was about 4 mins slower than Lisa’s mobile). A delivery box arrived at the door one time, and I noticed the freecall number had 444 in it. When I was on holidays last Christmas, a buggie drove past with the number plate ’44’ and then immediately after that another vehicle drove past, a utility van with the number plate ‘4’. Today, one of my bank balances had the numbers 444 in the total. There are ton’s of examples, so I’m dumbfounded wondering whether this is all a sign, a message or some revelation.

What are the chances? Or am I focusing so much on these numbers that I notice them more now? Due to the high frequency of visions, I’m now discounting the waking up at 4:44am because surely that has be a body clock thing, right?

I had to turn to the all knowing Google and you wouldn’t believe the number of people who experience the same thing, so I’m not alone in this phenomenom. Go ahead, Google it.

Essentially most of the articles in Google refer to the thousands of angels that surround me at the time I experience the 444. I’m praying that the angels are offering their protection as opposed to them waiting for me to catch the ‘deep sleep bus’.

The Chinese consider the number 4 to be auspicious, so maybe I’m seeing ‘die die die’ flashing before me, but then again among all the other Chinese superstitions they also believe that wearing a moustache is considered bad luck and beating a person with a broom will bring bad luck for many years. No wonder the vacuum industry does so well in China.

Monday, April 16th

Thank you ‘Stilnox’. I actually experienced what most of you take for granted, a sound sleep till around 6am this morning. I have also discovered that this has to be the prescription that’s giving me mild headaches in the morning.

Can’t win them all, ‘sleep’ or ‘headache’?, ‘good’ or ‘bad’?, ‘party all night’ or ‘hangover’? Why does yin have to accompany yang like an uninvited guest? Incidentally, did you know yin is cold, dark, passive, wet and feminine, and that yang is bright, active, dry, hot and masculine?

I know a couple of people who are best described as yin, … I’m definitely yang, a yang who loves the rain!

I can also confirm “Stilnox’ hasn’t caused me to sleep walk and go into a murderous rampage, but the side effects on my memory is shocking. I wouldn’t feel so slack about it, if it weren’t for the people around me reminding me that I had forgotten something, or I sit there struggling with names or events.

A classic example was at French lessons, when the teacher held up a poster with well known faces and we had to introduce them in French. I got away by introducing Julia Gillard as the ‘woman in red’, and Barrack Obama as the ‘black president’. I’m hoping this is all temporary or just one unpleasant dream that I’m about to wake up from.

Which sadly, I’ve made so many friends in this dream I’m going to miss them all.