Monday, April 14, 2008

My Conversation With Candy

So this will be my first post to this blog and somehow it's not going to be sports related.  I'd like to tell you my posts are going to get better, I'd like to tell that Andy fought the good fight and the sisters never bothered him again, but I can't- so this will probably be the best you're going to get.

Recently I've had some health issues.  Nothing major, I had some gall stones and got my gallbladder removed, but I thought I would recount the highlights experience here in this blog.  
Saturday, April 4th, 3:30 a.m. -- After a night of wing eating and beer drinking, I notice my stomach had started to develop some cramping.  I find this odd and quickly find myself quite sick.  The sickness is strange and not typical of your normal bout with alcohol poisoning or bad wingy's.  It continues to get worse and I realize this might actually be a serious problem, I wasn't quite sure of where your appendix is, but I'm pretty sure it's in your stomach and didn't want to die from something stupid like that.  So I decide I should head to the hospital, which in my head is quite a pussy move.  Not wanting pull a total bitch move, I decide I'm going to drive myself there despite intense pain and dehydration that is making me kind of faint.  I realize this probably isn't the best decision, but at the time I'm still not sure what's wrong with me so I'd rather pass out behind the wheel than make someone drive me to the hospital for a bad case of food poisoning.

Anyways...I have gallstones etc...need to have it out and have surgery the next week.  Better than the alternative I'm told which is kidney stones.  
General anesthesia is fucking weird.  If you've never had it, it's hard to explain.  You go from being completely alert to comatose for hours in a matter of seconds.  This is really the only part of my surgery that is worth retelling.  I've never understood how dreams work and I realize the combination of pain, pills and whatever weird shit the doctor was doing to me could easily fuck with my mind quite a bit. However,  while I was under anesthesia I visited with dead comedian John Candy.  

Why John Candy? I don't know.  I like the dude, think he's pretty funny and watch Uncle Buck whenever it shows up on TV, but can confidently say he is not part of my regular thought process.  What made it even weirder was the conditions of the meeting.  I appeared to be visiting the set of one of his movies with a person I'd never met before (they seems like a production assistant or something.)  Once we got on set was the part that really disturbed me, Candy was a complete fucking mess.  He seemed to be at his heaviest weight, easily inching close to 400 lbs and was rocking that beard he had in Wagons East.  On top of that, he was in a really shitty mood, screaming about something and generally scaring everyone on set. The P.A. I was with finally introduced me to him, but I was quickly pushed aside by Candy who had clearly had other things on his mind.  At this point I turned to the stranger I was with to say, "why is John Candy such a dick?"  I guess I said this too loudly and next thing I know people were rushing me off the set claiming John Candy wanted to fight me.  

Waking up from anesthesia is perhaps the weirdest part.  You have no memory of what happened, but you have a bunch of shit hooked up to you and a decent amount of pain.  Basically, it's like Dany Heatley's sunday mornings (That's not that good of joke, but it's easy so I took it.)  Anyways, the nurse pops a vicodin in my mouth and asks if I know what's going on. All I can ask is that she keep that maniac John Candy away from me.  I assume she is quite confused by this, so she asks how much pain I'm having on a scale of 1-10.  I'm starting to come to a little bit more, but am still pretty fucked up so I decide to get philosophical.  I tell the 30-something nurse it's hard to rate my pain because I'm unsure of the true definition of pain.  How can I evaluate my pain when I can't understand the pain of others?
At some point, they decided they've had enough of me and I'm wheeled out and released to the care of my mom.  I appear to be good and healthy to make better posts than this one in the future.  Thank Jesus.  

1 comment:

Coach Pops Chambers said...

Please, PLEASE tell me John Candy made a giant pancake in your dream