Once again, I have been remiss in keeping up my blog. I wish I could tell you that I have been incredibly busy (which I have been) and unable to put one out at least twice a week. I wish I could say that, but I can’t. Unfortunately, by the time I get home, the last thing I want to do is look at my computer and, when I do, it is to check my company emails. How boring is that? So I better get it done during the day…at work!
Anyway, due to my constant need to find humor in everything that is miserable, I was able to come up with something to talk about today.
Remember the surgery I just had? And remember how my physician was unable to get to the last tumor without cracking my prostate? Well, he got to it yesterday!! And let me say one thing; there is no such thing as a simple procedure.
Let’s start our day at 6:30 in the morning as you get your butt out of bed after having slept soundly through the night. All of a sudden it hits you. You have to be at your doctor’s office at 9 AM for a “quick” procedure to remove a tumor in your bladder. The reason why it is not being done in the hospital is because your doctor’s equipment is better than the hospital’s and it allows him to have greater mobility inside your bladder. ALARM BELL #1
You get to your doctor’s office at 9AM and are immediately whisked into the Scope Room. This is a room that contains a middle age looking device with an eyepiece and a long black tube that would allow you to scratch your ass through your nose. This device is hanging on the wall with a bag of fluid and an electric prod next to it. ALARM BELL #2
You lay down on the exam table after removing your clothes and have a paper sheet draped over your midsection. Your nurse starts to put a numbing gel on your schmekl and tells you that you need to lay there and let it “do its thing” and the doctor will be in shortly. You ask, both jokingly and pleadingly at the same time, if perchance they may have a fistful of pills that you could swallow before the show starts. The reason is that you have never shit your pants in public before but there is always a first time and you are thinking that today may be that special day. Your loving nurse looks at you, pats your hand and says, “…don’t worry, you’ll be fine and it will be over quickly” ALARM BELL #3
In comes your doctor. My doc is a great guy. He loves what he does and he is really good at it. He is also one of these guys who believes in doing as much as he can in his office because his equipment is really good and he can “churn ‘em out”.
The first thing he does when he walks in the room is to tell me what he will be doing this morning. This is like telling someone who is about to be hanged exactly how you are about to kill him. A totally unnecessary discussion.
My response to all of this is absolutely nothing because I have stopped breathing normally and am slowly starting to pass out. After regaining some form of composure, we start the “procedure” which will involve my tumor being burned out, via cauterization” versus being cut out due to the blood thinners that I am on.
Without further ado, I see my doc remove the torture device from the wall while at the same time the nurse slaps a sticky object to my leg which, I find out later, is the grounding for the device which uses electric impulses to burn the tumor away.
I am now trying to go to a happy place. You start to see a beautiful pasture with wild flowers and children running through the field as your doctor says, “Hold on, I am going to hit it with a single short burst.” The image disappears as you initially suck the paper on the exam table up your ass because you are flexing so hard. Your doc, in his infinite bedside manner says, “…you need to relax, because I have to move this scope a little to get a better shot at it.” You go back to another happy place, this time on the blue, pristine waters of the Keys just as your doc goes, “…okay, this time I have a good shot at it. I am so sorry that this hurts, Dan, but I need to increase the power. I promise this is going to be it.”
You are just about to toss out your line at a passing bonefish when there is a new feeling that you have never had before. Could it be? Did your bladder just explode or did your doc just accidentally melt your nuts? And as quickly as that, it is over!
Your doc smacks you on the chest and tells you how great you are to put up with that pain and how everything is gone. The device has been removed and your doc scoots out of the room because he knows that if he sticks around, and I get my strength back, he will never father another child again.
As I eventually stumble out to the reception area, after getting dressed of course, my dear wife is standing there holding two prescriptions. One is for Avodart, a medication that keeps everything flowing, and the other is for CIPRO, the last resort antibiotic. This is the stuff that you get if we are ever attacked biologically. It is the only antibiotic that works and I have been on it, on and off, for the last two years. And, because of that, if we ever are attacked, CIPRO will no longer work for me. Great. At least, my bladder will be healthy.
Oh, and I forgot, I have a follow up in two weeks…ALARM BELL #4
Friday, July 25, 2008
Wednesday, July 16, 2008
Monday, July 14, 2008
Honey, Did You Move the Trailer?
Hello everyone. I have been remiss by not blogging any sooner. I have been home recuperating and, basically, doing nothing. When that happens, my brain tends to shift into neutral.
So, I am back to work and reading the news and couldn’t stay away from these two stories.
Guess who has a new girlfriend. Okay, here are a couple of clues:
1. He walks around in pajamas all day
2. He currently has three blond girlfriends
a. Not a single one of them can string a sentence together
b. Their cumulative bra sizes are EEE
3. He used to smoke a pipe but now probably smokes a “blunt” filled with Viagra
If you were thinking Michael Jackson, you were close, but no cigar tube.
Yes, it’s true, our boy Hef has a new squeeze. Her name is Anna Faris and, apparently, is considered to be a bubbly blond, which really means that she is as dumb as a fire hydrant. Apparently, poor little Anna had to work her ass off to be picture perfect for a part she will be playing in Playboy’s “The House Bunny”
She is quoted as saying, “I did very little to emotionally prepare: I worked out, I got hair extensions and bought lots of padded bras” Wow!! I don’t know about any of you, but I really feel for her.
Okay, enough about that bunch of idiots.
Here’s the real story I want to comment on. There is a 76 year old Georgia woman who is currently sitting in jail, accused of killing five people, four of which were husbands.
One husband was shot to death in his home. She collected $10,000 when her son died suddenly. She had a hefty life insurance policy on husband number 5, who died in October of poisoning and another husband committed suicide in front of her. That’s four people and now she is being investigated for another husband homicide.
To say that this is an evil person would be a complete understatement. But what kind of idiots married this woman. I’ve seen pictures; This is not a “looker” in any sense of the word. She has a vicious overbite that would allow her to eat an apple through a picket fence.
I am trying to envision the dinner date with this woman.
“So Betty, have you ever been married before?”
“Sure have. A number of times. Unfortunately, most of my husbands tended to die suddenly. It sure was nice of them to make sure I was well cared for, if you know what I mean. Could you pass the bread?”
“So, how many times have you been married?”
“Four or five times. I seem to have lost count. By the way, on our way home, could you stop at the Piggly Wiggly? I need to pick up some anti freeze.”
“Sure, no problem. If there is anything else you need, I can pick it up for you.”
“Since you’re asking; I have a couple of heavy trash bags in my trunk…”
Anyway, you get the picture. Have a wonderful evening.
So, I am back to work and reading the news and couldn’t stay away from these two stories.
Guess who has a new girlfriend. Okay, here are a couple of clues:
1. He walks around in pajamas all day
2. He currently has three blond girlfriends
a. Not a single one of them can string a sentence together
b. Their cumulative bra sizes are EEE
3. He used to smoke a pipe but now probably smokes a “blunt” filled with Viagra
If you were thinking Michael Jackson, you were close, but no cigar tube.
Yes, it’s true, our boy Hef has a new squeeze. Her name is Anna Faris and, apparently, is considered to be a bubbly blond, which really means that she is as dumb as a fire hydrant. Apparently, poor little Anna had to work her ass off to be picture perfect for a part she will be playing in Playboy’s “The House Bunny”
She is quoted as saying, “I did very little to emotionally prepare: I worked out, I got hair extensions and bought lots of padded bras” Wow!! I don’t know about any of you, but I really feel for her.
Okay, enough about that bunch of idiots.
Here’s the real story I want to comment on. There is a 76 year old Georgia woman who is currently sitting in jail, accused of killing five people, four of which were husbands.
One husband was shot to death in his home. She collected $10,000 when her son died suddenly. She had a hefty life insurance policy on husband number 5, who died in October of poisoning and another husband committed suicide in front of her. That’s four people and now she is being investigated for another husband homicide.
To say that this is an evil person would be a complete understatement. But what kind of idiots married this woman. I’ve seen pictures; This is not a “looker” in any sense of the word. She has a vicious overbite that would allow her to eat an apple through a picket fence.
I am trying to envision the dinner date with this woman.
“So Betty, have you ever been married before?”
“Sure have. A number of times. Unfortunately, most of my husbands tended to die suddenly. It sure was nice of them to make sure I was well cared for, if you know what I mean. Could you pass the bread?”
“So, how many times have you been married?”
“Four or five times. I seem to have lost count. By the way, on our way home, could you stop at the Piggly Wiggly? I need to pick up some anti freeze.”
“Sure, no problem. If there is anything else you need, I can pick it up for you.”
“Since you’re asking; I have a couple of heavy trash bags in my trunk…”
Anyway, you get the picture. Have a wonderful evening.
Friday, July 4, 2008
Honey, Does This Look Like Cherry Kool-Aid To You?
Hi guys
So you thought Dan would go into the hospital, have a 1 hour outpatient procedure, go home and get back to work within two days, right? Well, guess again, kids. This boy can’t do anything that simple.
I went into the hospital on Monday for the surgery which was quite successful. The doctor left one tiny tumor because he couldn’t get at it with the hospital equipment, which is very rigid. To do so, he would have had to “crack the prostate” in order to get to it. I thanked him profusely for not doing so. He decided to take care of it within a couple of weeks, after I had healed. The multiple biopsies that he took came back free and clear along with the kidney scans and all that.
So, here I go back to work on Thursday, thinking everything is A-OK only to realize that one leg was getting bigger than the other. By Thursday evening, my ass was lying in a hospital bed after having a Doppler done on my leg only to find it full of multiple DVT’s or clots, to the normal person.
I ended up spending my total vacation lying on my back in a hospital bed, an extremely nice one though, with an IV in my arm and another catheter, you know where, trying to figure out who I had pissed off in my last life.
It seems that not only had I developed DVT’s but the original surgery was causing me to bleed out form all of the mini biopsies I had undergone. The reason why I was bleeding out was the fact that the only way to treat DVT’s is to fill the body with Lovenox, a needle injected into the stomach twice a day to thin the blood and Coumadin, a pill that is taken once a day to thin it even more. Unfortunately, when you have open wounds, either inside or outside of your body, you tend to bleed from those wounds until they get accustomed to the amount of blood thinners you are receiving at any given time.
At one point, the hospital was getting ready to give me a transfusion due to the loss of blood. Oh, by the way, I am A+ in case you guys want to give me a Christmas gift or something.
Anyway, all of a sudden, I stopped bleeding yesterday and was told that I could go home, which is where I am right now. I am nursing a sore bladder, a sore set of kidneys, a tally-whacker that has had more shit put into it than Governor Spitzer’s girlfriend and a fat leg. But I am home and I am getting better.
I still twitch at the sight of garden hoses and Cherry Kool-Aid has new meaning to me. (That will be another story) Cranberry juice is my friend and I miss all of you.
I promise to stay in touch.
Dan
So you thought Dan would go into the hospital, have a 1 hour outpatient procedure, go home and get back to work within two days, right? Well, guess again, kids. This boy can’t do anything that simple.
I went into the hospital on Monday for the surgery which was quite successful. The doctor left one tiny tumor because he couldn’t get at it with the hospital equipment, which is very rigid. To do so, he would have had to “crack the prostate” in order to get to it. I thanked him profusely for not doing so. He decided to take care of it within a couple of weeks, after I had healed. The multiple biopsies that he took came back free and clear along with the kidney scans and all that.
So, here I go back to work on Thursday, thinking everything is A-OK only to realize that one leg was getting bigger than the other. By Thursday evening, my ass was lying in a hospital bed after having a Doppler done on my leg only to find it full of multiple DVT’s or clots, to the normal person.
I ended up spending my total vacation lying on my back in a hospital bed, an extremely nice one though, with an IV in my arm and another catheter, you know where, trying to figure out who I had pissed off in my last life.
It seems that not only had I developed DVT’s but the original surgery was causing me to bleed out form all of the mini biopsies I had undergone. The reason why I was bleeding out was the fact that the only way to treat DVT’s is to fill the body with Lovenox, a needle injected into the stomach twice a day to thin the blood and Coumadin, a pill that is taken once a day to thin it even more. Unfortunately, when you have open wounds, either inside or outside of your body, you tend to bleed from those wounds until they get accustomed to the amount of blood thinners you are receiving at any given time.
At one point, the hospital was getting ready to give me a transfusion due to the loss of blood. Oh, by the way, I am A+ in case you guys want to give me a Christmas gift or something.
Anyway, all of a sudden, I stopped bleeding yesterday and was told that I could go home, which is where I am right now. I am nursing a sore bladder, a sore set of kidneys, a tally-whacker that has had more shit put into it than Governor Spitzer’s girlfriend and a fat leg. But I am home and I am getting better.
I still twitch at the sight of garden hoses and Cherry Kool-Aid has new meaning to me. (That will be another story) Cranberry juice is my friend and I miss all of you.
I promise to stay in touch.
Dan
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
Honey, I Can't Find The Hose?
Hello everyone. I’m back in the land of the living.
So, how did everything go, you ask? As far as I can tell, it went well. We are still waiting for some of the Pathology to come back but, even if there is anything new, it will be in its infancy stage and we can deal with it quickly.
Anyway, enough about me. Let’s talk about catheters and especially my favorite, the Foley.
If you remember, I spoke last week about the many orifices that the human body has. Well, it is the catheter that fits into one of those orifices. Whoever invented this item for the medical community needs to have different sized melons and grapes inserted into his posterior. And I know it’s a “he” since no woman is that cruel.
I have had the pleasure, over the past two years, to be cathed (a nice little word that really means excruciating torture) approximately 20 times. There is no way to explain the feeling of having an object snaked through your urethra, push past you prostate and enter your bladder. Now I know how the pipe feels after Roto-Rooter pays a visit.
Now I want you to imagine that after going through all of this, the discomfort of the “voyage” through your urethra and the arrival at the destination (your bladder), your physician decides, after surgery, that for the next few days, “…we are going to leave this thing in you to make sure everything is working right.” And to be sure it stays where it is supposed to, they pump up a little balloon (The Foley, named after its inventor) that will keep it bobbing happily inside your bladder. So, basically, there were two sick bastards that found each other and invented this tool.
Once that is all done, the tube that is now hanging out of your penis is attached to a plastic bag that is strapped to your leg. As the bag fills up, it gets heavier and heavier, which in turn, tugs on the hose which pulls on the Foley, which…you get the message.
Needless to say, it is not a pretty site, especially on a fat, white guy like me. If you disconnected the hose from the bag, you could swear that someone had developed a new pull toy.
Anyway, I am back and kicking. In a few more days, I will be stronger…need to get some rest.
Take care everyone
So, how did everything go, you ask? As far as I can tell, it went well. We are still waiting for some of the Pathology to come back but, even if there is anything new, it will be in its infancy stage and we can deal with it quickly.
Anyway, enough about me. Let’s talk about catheters and especially my favorite, the Foley.
If you remember, I spoke last week about the many orifices that the human body has. Well, it is the catheter that fits into one of those orifices. Whoever invented this item for the medical community needs to have different sized melons and grapes inserted into his posterior. And I know it’s a “he” since no woman is that cruel.
I have had the pleasure, over the past two years, to be cathed (a nice little word that really means excruciating torture) approximately 20 times. There is no way to explain the feeling of having an object snaked through your urethra, push past you prostate and enter your bladder. Now I know how the pipe feels after Roto-Rooter pays a visit.
Now I want you to imagine that after going through all of this, the discomfort of the “voyage” through your urethra and the arrival at the destination (your bladder), your physician decides, after surgery, that for the next few days, “…we are going to leave this thing in you to make sure everything is working right.” And to be sure it stays where it is supposed to, they pump up a little balloon (The Foley, named after its inventor) that will keep it bobbing happily inside your bladder. So, basically, there were two sick bastards that found each other and invented this tool.
Once that is all done, the tube that is now hanging out of your penis is attached to a plastic bag that is strapped to your leg. As the bag fills up, it gets heavier and heavier, which in turn, tugs on the hose which pulls on the Foley, which…you get the message.
Needless to say, it is not a pretty site, especially on a fat, white guy like me. If you disconnected the hose from the bag, you could swear that someone had developed a new pull toy.
Anyway, I am back and kicking. In a few more days, I will be stronger…need to get some rest.
Take care everyone
Thursday, June 19, 2008
Honey, Where Did You Put My Shoes?
There is something afoot in Canada.
Apparently, feet have been washing ashore in the Vancouver area for over the past year and the local constabulary is at wit’s end trying to figure out what is going on.
The latest foot washed ashore yesterday and a Sgt. Mike Tresoor with the world famous RCMP said that it apparently looked like a right foot. Hmmm! Good to know they can tell the difference. According to the reports, all feet washed ashore while still encased in running shoes.
After extensive DNA testing, it seems that none of the feet belong to anyone that the police know. Well, that’s a relief.
The reason why the feet have washed ashore, according to the RCMP, is because they were encased in running shoes and, therefore, remained buoyant. This is a good thing to know if you are ever being chased by a great white shark. Always wear your running shoes while swimming and they will always find your feet. Also a good idea, if you ever find yourself wading in the pristine waters of northwest Canada where grizzlies tend to also wade. Apparently, running shoes don’t taste good and are, basically, left behind.
Sergeant Tresoor also stated, “The object (the foot) will ultimately be examined by a forensic pathologist in attempts to determine the source of the foot…”
I always thought that feet were usually a part of a body, but, hey, that’s just me.
My theory is that three people got eaten by either a killer whale or a grizzly (it all matters where the departed were at the time) and, because their feet were encased in rubber, the critter that devoured them was not able to digest that part, and, basically crapped them out. Kind of like the equivalent of eating corn. You get my drift.
And with that, I must leave you for the day. I will try to get one more out before surgery but will probably be home cowering in a corner for the weekend in anticipation of having a new object squeezed into you know where and hearing the simple sounds of my doctor saying to his nurse, “Wow, do you really think this is going to fit?”
Apparently, feet have been washing ashore in the Vancouver area for over the past year and the local constabulary is at wit’s end trying to figure out what is going on.
The latest foot washed ashore yesterday and a Sgt. Mike Tresoor with the world famous RCMP said that it apparently looked like a right foot. Hmmm! Good to know they can tell the difference. According to the reports, all feet washed ashore while still encased in running shoes.
After extensive DNA testing, it seems that none of the feet belong to anyone that the police know. Well, that’s a relief.
The reason why the feet have washed ashore, according to the RCMP, is because they were encased in running shoes and, therefore, remained buoyant. This is a good thing to know if you are ever being chased by a great white shark. Always wear your running shoes while swimming and they will always find your feet. Also a good idea, if you ever find yourself wading in the pristine waters of northwest Canada where grizzlies tend to also wade. Apparently, running shoes don’t taste good and are, basically, left behind.
Sergeant Tresoor also stated, “The object (the foot) will ultimately be examined by a forensic pathologist in attempts to determine the source of the foot…”
I always thought that feet were usually a part of a body, but, hey, that’s just me.
My theory is that three people got eaten by either a killer whale or a grizzly (it all matters where the departed were at the time) and, because their feet were encased in rubber, the critter that devoured them was not able to digest that part, and, basically crapped them out. Kind of like the equivalent of eating corn. You get my drift.
And with that, I must leave you for the day. I will try to get one more out before surgery but will probably be home cowering in a corner for the weekend in anticipation of having a new object squeezed into you know where and hearing the simple sounds of my doctor saying to his nurse, “Wow, do you really think this is going to fit?”
Tuesday, June 17, 2008
Honey, Where Did You Put My Stethiscope?
Hi everyone,
I hope everyone is well. I have heard back from a number of you and I thank you all for your concern. Please, and may I repeat myself, please, do not worry about me. I am fine. This disease is a pain in the ass but luckily, it is manageable so far. I do want to share some of my medical experiences with you all because I believe that we need to stay informed about physicians and their sneaky ways. Here area couple of things you need to watch out for.
# 1.
It is amazing how you can insert objects into certain parts of the body that you never thought it would fit. Well, I am here to say that, if need be, you could probably shove a watermelon up your ass if you needed to. Although, I see no reason to do that since there is no medicinal value to this function. It might help in the feeding process like boas that eat cows and don’t eat for a month. Unfortunately, humans have to go to work and therefore can’t lie around for a week to digest their food. I know my mind is wandering; I will stop now.
#2.
I never knew that the body had as many entrance holes that it does. I realized that the nose is good, the mouth, the ears, and the butt. But when my Doc first informed me that, no, I would not be asleep for my scopes and, yes, I am going to push this half inch in circumference rubber tube up your penis and you will be awake all the time, I almost fainted.
#3.
Doctors lie. I don’t know about any of you but when someone says that you may feel some discomfort, I anticipate the feeling of a 300 pound person sitting on your chest for 3 seconds or getting a cramp in your hand or the feeling in your ears when you land in a plane. Pretend that the scope is a cork screw and your penis is a bottle of wine. Okay, get the idea? What do you think, discomfort or pain? Think of that the next time you uncork a bottle. You may want to buy a screw top.
#4.
When Doctors ask, “Am I hurting you?” sit up, tell them that they may feel some discomfort and then knock them out.
That’s it for today except for this:
Ahkmed the Arab came to the United States from the Middle East, and he was only here a few months when he became very ill.
He went to doctor after doctor, but none of them could help him.
Finally, he went to an Arab doctor who said, "Take dees bocket, go into de odder room, poop in de bocket, pee on de poop, and den put your head down over de bocket and breathe in de fumes for ten minutes."
Ahkmed took the bucket, went into the other room, pooped in the bucket, peed on the poop, bent over and breathed in the fumes for ten minutes.
Coming back to the doctor he said, "It worked. I feel terrific! What was wrong with me?"
"You were homesick." the doctor said.
I hope everyone is well. I have heard back from a number of you and I thank you all for your concern. Please, and may I repeat myself, please, do not worry about me. I am fine. This disease is a pain in the ass but luckily, it is manageable so far. I do want to share some of my medical experiences with you all because I believe that we need to stay informed about physicians and their sneaky ways. Here area couple of things you need to watch out for.
# 1.
It is amazing how you can insert objects into certain parts of the body that you never thought it would fit. Well, I am here to say that, if need be, you could probably shove a watermelon up your ass if you needed to. Although, I see no reason to do that since there is no medicinal value to this function. It might help in the feeding process like boas that eat cows and don’t eat for a month. Unfortunately, humans have to go to work and therefore can’t lie around for a week to digest their food. I know my mind is wandering; I will stop now.
#2.
I never knew that the body had as many entrance holes that it does. I realized that the nose is good, the mouth, the ears, and the butt. But when my Doc first informed me that, no, I would not be asleep for my scopes and, yes, I am going to push this half inch in circumference rubber tube up your penis and you will be awake all the time, I almost fainted.
#3.
Doctors lie. I don’t know about any of you but when someone says that you may feel some discomfort, I anticipate the feeling of a 300 pound person sitting on your chest for 3 seconds or getting a cramp in your hand or the feeling in your ears when you land in a plane. Pretend that the scope is a cork screw and your penis is a bottle of wine. Okay, get the idea? What do you think, discomfort or pain? Think of that the next time you uncork a bottle. You may want to buy a screw top.
#4.
When Doctors ask, “Am I hurting you?” sit up, tell them that they may feel some discomfort and then knock them out.
That’s it for today except for this:
Ahkmed the Arab came to the United States from the Middle East, and he was only here a few months when he became very ill.
He went to doctor after doctor, but none of them could help him.
Finally, he went to an Arab doctor who said, "Take dees bocket, go into de odder room, poop in de bocket, pee on de poop, and den put your head down over de bocket and breathe in de fumes for ten minutes."
Ahkmed took the bucket, went into the other room, pooped in the bucket, peed on the poop, bent over and breathed in the fumes for ten minutes.
Coming back to the doctor he said, "It worked. I feel terrific! What was wrong with me?"
"You were homesick." the doctor said.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)