OUR IDEA Now that flyers have turned into Facebook events we feel that there needs to be a way to keep up with small shows like these without having to be on Facebook or constantly check bar calendars and blogs. Many times we’ve missed a show because of zero promotion or the venue giving less…
If I had an office job I’d have a bucket of green soldiers and a barrel’o’monkeys. Then I’d stage a post apocalyptic war with battles spanning days or weeks at a time. The monkeys being the new dominant life form and the soldiers being the remains of their species on planet Desk. Their only resources would be from the office supply closet, at the other side of the office. I’d work out strategies and play them out like chess. Eventually the monkeys would take control of the supply closet and I would leave them posted there. The final battle would come as the soldiers try to thwart the monkeys plan to bomb the supply closet but fail. On that day, after months, I would bring in as many monkeys as I can find, maybe hire a real chimp. Stuffed monkeys, posters of monkeys, dress up in a gorilla costume but otherwise work as normal, etc. I’ll replace everything in the closet with these things and leave them around the office. Maybe going as far as replacing personal things in other cubicles with personal things a monkey may have.
I will tell no one what is going on. I will work as normal while making the subtle changes progressively around the whole office. Except on the final day, when monkey hell breaks loose. That is how I will quit.
I’ve been home from the hospital for almost a week now. Making huge improvements each day. My vestibular nerve is gone so I still walk with a cane but it’s solid oak with a brass handle, and dapper as fuck. Not to mention it beats the hell out of using a damn walker. Seriously those suck. I’ll be starting physical and occupational therapy soon but I might keep the cane anyway. It’s definitely my thing.
The good news is they saved my last asset by avoiding facial paralysis and everything will be back to normal, sans hearing, once I master the art of not walking like a drunk again.
The bad news is I had a severe and “impressive” (according to one of my surgeons) anaphylaxic reaction about half way through my surgery. All but died and we won’t know what caused it until I get some more testing done at the end of the month. They couldn’t get all of the tumor because of it and couldn’t close up my skull like they wanted to, then they spent 3 or 4 hours just trying to get me stable. I had some spinal fluid leakage a few days later, which isn’t uncommon, and needed a drain in my spine for 5 days. That was intense. Holy shit. Having giant breathing tubes pulled from my lungs and having a needle scrape and dig its way up and into my spine then cause horrific muscle spasms for 20 minutes every single fucking hour for a week while a nurse drains me are two experiences I could do without a repeat. They finally took the bloody spout out and later the suture came loose. I lost every drop of spinal fluid before anyone noticed resulting in a headache that enough iv fentanyl to kill a junkie wouldn’t touch for two days.
The really good news is my surgeons were, are and will continue to be, I’m sure, the most incredible people. Not to mention some of the best in the world at what they do. Not only was I entirely comfortable with them throughout the routine process but they did a clean and impressive job of the tumor removal, saved my life in emergency then treated me like their damn family afterward. I feel worse for them in reality because of their reaction, from the way my parents described their faces while explaining what happened as I lie in icu to the way they looked at me the first couple of times they came to see me in my room. Like they might break me, like they thought they already had. I’ve never felt so protected because all the concern was genuine and warranted in awesomely capable hands. On top of that I had never really considered what nurses do. With a bit of experience I can now safely generalize them as some of the most godamn amazing people. I had a whole lot of luck throughout this process but they helped make it probably the best experience it could have been.
So even though I don’t remember coming the closest to death I’ve been (and if I had a nickle for every time I’ve been close….) I’m just pretty glad to be here now.