Friday, September 8, 2017

All Things Must Pass

Hi there.

Today is post # 1,600 to I'm So Glad My Suffering Amuses You.

I'm not sure I should count all of them since some were "encore posts" from previous posts.  Just this past weekend, I posted TWO separate encore posts.

Which brings me to the topic of today's post.  

What the what?!?

The end of  I'm So Glad My Suffering Amuses You?!?


Yes, really.


What gives?

2017 has been a tough year. My mother died, I had a stroke, I had a fall that shattered my elbow followed by two surgeries and ongoing physical therapy. And I had kidney stones.

And depression. That's been a renewed battle this year.

And sleep. It is very obvious I have some kind of sleep disorder. I spend a lot of my days fighting an overwhelming urge to sleep. I've got  sleep study coming up[ in a week or so that will hopefully get to the bottom of that. 

This sort of thing can really mess with your mind, particularly the part of the mind that's supposed to string words together in something resembling a coherent fashion.  

That's been harder to do lately.

During Doctor Who Series 10, it took me a week to struggle through an episode write up. I used to be able to do that within a mere handful of hour after an episode aired. I love Doctor Who. I love writing about Doctor Who. And those posts were less a labor of love and more just labor.  

I'm So Glad My Suffering Amuses You was supposed to be a fun forum for me to express myself on whatever damn thing popped into my head.

Sorry but this forum has become less fun.

Is I'm So Glad My Suffering Amuses You done forever? You know the saying, "never say 'never'." But I am not looking at this blog being done "for now". I'm looking at it as being done.

If I can get my act together, there is a fan fiction I want to write for the 12th Doctor. I may launch a Doctor Who centric blog or something. 

We'll see about that. 

But today, this is my farewell to blogging.

This is my farewell to I'm So Glad My Suffering Amuses You.

But always remember to be good to one another. 

Monday, September 4, 2017

What In The World?

So.... what in the world is going on?  

  • Houston, Texas continues to be devastated by flooding in the aftermath of Hurricane Harvey. The White House has prepared a request to Congress for an initial $5.9 billion package in Harvey recovery aid, a first down payment to make sure recovery efforts over the next few weeks are adequately funded. The Trump proposal, which is being finalized pending White House consultations with key Republicans, promises to represent just a fraction of an eventual Harvey recovery package that could rival the $100-billion-plus in taxpayer-financed help for victims of 2005's Hurricane Katrina.
There's  some hub-bub in Washington about tying aid to Texas to current budget negotiations. Not really sure how that will or will not work but leave it Washington to complicate things.  

  • Trump has decided to end the Obama-era program that grants work permits to undocumented immigrants who arrived in the country as children. 
This should not come as a surprise. Whatever "will he or won't he" drama may have existed on whether or not Trump would end the Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals program (DACA), the odds were always in favor of Trump revoking it simply because it was an "Obama-era program". 
  • North Korea carried out its sixth and most powerful nuclear test early Sunday in an extraordinary show of defiance. Trump responded by declaring the country “hostile and dangerous to the United States” and criticizing an American ally, South Korea, for “talk of appeasement.” The underground blast, which caused tremors that were felt in both South Korea and China, was the first by the North to clearly surpass the destructive power of the bombs dropped on the Japanese cities of Hiroshima and Nagasaki in World War II. The government said it had tested a hydrogen bomb that could be mounted on an intercontinental ballistic missile. 
Yes, Trump talked tough towards North Korea while throwing some barbs towards our ally in the region, South Korea. So business as usual for Li'l Donnie.  

Under the heading of "I'm getting old and life sucks"....

  • Walter Becker, guitarist, bassist and co-writer for the sophisticated, dark-humored band Steely Dan, has died. He was 67.
Click here for this link on You Tube for Steely Dan album, Aja. Steely Dan was long time favorite from my youth. The passing of Becker marks another loss from that youth. 

Sunday, September 3, 2017

ENCORE POST: Things I Will Teach My Child

This is from a post I made to this blog back on Sunday, June 9, 2013: Things I Will Teach My Child

 The human brain will triumph over brawn...especially when that brain designs an orbiting death laser.

 Power should be used use the death laser to blow up something minor, as a demonstration of that power.

 We all make mistakes, it's how we learn and grow. So you blew up Wilmington DE instead of Wilmington NC? It's OK.

 Always think before you leapa valuable lesson for the next time you calibrate the death laser targeting system.

 Beware hubris, embrace humility. So when you tell the world's leaders you have an orbiting death laser, don't brag.

 Time is precious; don't waste yours or anyone else's. Upfront tell the leaders "I want a billion $ in gold bullion"

 Be clear, don't play games. Just say, "No gold, I blow up Rhode Island in 24 hrs." People will appreciate that.

 Life is a gift, treasure it. Remember, people are important to our plans for a slave labor economy under our rule.

 Respect & be kind to people. Your best laid plans for world conquest can be scuttled by a pissed off minion.

 With great power comes great responsibility. When you use the death laser, be sure the power relays don't overheat.

 Oh, and safety first! Be sure to wear your flare proof goggles cause the death laser can put out a lot of light.

 Above all else, my child, remember: I will always love you. Now, you & me, kid; what say we vaporize Rhode Island?


As I look over these lessons that I will impart to my child, I am filled withhope for our future, a bright and shining future where the children of Earth can grow to their full potential under the watchful and benevolent gaze of I, your ruler, and, in time, under the rule of my child. 

Before I go, I would entreat you to remember two very important things:

  • Education is important always, for children and adults.

  • A death laser is in orbit over this planet and it is under my control.

Remember those two things and you will have a wonderful and fulfilling destiny under my ultimate authority.


Saturday, September 2, 2017

ENCORE POST: Journeys With the Doctor: My Stories of Doctor Who

Here's a post from Saturday, June 1, 2013....

Journeys With the Doctor: My Stories of Doctor Who#1

Greetings, Earth Creatures! 

Dave-El here and welcome to I'm So Glad My Suffering Amuses You

We're a couple of weeks out from Doctor Who's Series 7 finale, The Name of the Doctor, and six months away from the 50th Anniversaryspecial coming in November.

In order to cope with the intervening Doctor Who withdrawal, I am posting something each Saturday (because the Doctor loves Saturdays!) relating to Doctor Who. Last week, I dashed off a bit of trifle about the 10th Doctor and Rose encountering Captain Kirk and the crew of the Enterprise where we learn Rose is a closet Trekkerand what opinions the Doctor and Rose have about David Tennant and Billie Piper!  

(For more, click this link: "The Doctor Meets Capt. Kirk: Untold Tales of Doctor Who#2.)

I have other (rather goofy) ideas for future fiction posts ( own idea for a multi-Doctor epic) but I also to use this weekly forum to post other things. For example, today I post installment #1 of Journeys With the Doctor: My Stories of Doctor Who.  This is to share my discovery of the program and my development as a Doctor Who fan.


Part 1
"I thought Doctor Who was the dumbest thing
I had ever seen!"

Fall 1981: I began attending the University of North Carolina at Greensboro and it was a major transition for me. It's a major transition for most young men and women moving from High School Land to College World. But I had led a rather sheltered small town life so going away to college was particularly a big deal for me and it was not always an easy adjustment for me. A lot of the social interaction skills that most of my fellow freshmen had worked on in their formative grade school years were still a mystery to me.  But being (by my standards) far away from home, I had few options to retreat. I was going to have learn to interact with people. 

I was going to have to learn to be human.

One of the significant hubs of UNC-G was Elliot Student Center, a place to go to get out of the dorms for awhile, to get something to eat other than the food-like substances at the cafeteria, to just hang out.  Around the student center were 3 area set up with couches and other quasi-comfortable chairs in a semi-circle around a television set. 

(On the ground floor, there was a 4th area with a projection TV. Oddly enough, few people used that TV. 1981 projection TV technology was not all that great.)

One day in the middle of the fall of my freshman  year in college, I was at Elliot Student Center. I was very much on a budget so hanging out around the student center was about all I could afford at that time.  I decided to seek out one of the TV areas with only a vague idea of maybe catching up on the news. It was a few minutes before 6:00PM and there was this one area with one guy sitting on a sofa. He was writing in a notebook, not particularly watching the TV which was on the local PBS station. Still, to be polite, before changing the channel, I asked, "Are you watching this?"

He looked up and said, "Well, actually, I'm waiting for something to come on at 6:00. I mean, if that's OK." Well, he was being polite and I really had no burning desire to watch the local news. Besides, I had a book with me that I really needed to get started on for one of my classes. So I said, tapping my book, "Nah, I really need to get started on this anyway." So I plopped down in one of the soft chairs and opened my book.

A moment later, 2 guys and 2 girls approached and one of them said to the guy already there, "Hey, we're not late?" and the reply was that no, they were just in time. So these new arrivals found various spots on the chairs and sofas and made themselves comfortable,

Then I heard something, an other worldly music. I looked up at the TV screen and saw a strange visual effect, swirling patterns moving outward as the large head of curly haired man appeared. The assembled group actually gave a shout that I heard only at basketball games when someone made a 3 point shot. A graphic, some kind of stylized shield identified the program as Doctor Who

I asked one of the closer viewers what was this.

"It's Doctor Who," he replied. 

Well, I kind of worked that out for myself. Then there was a title: "The Seeds of Doom" followed by "Part Five". 

What transpired over the next half hour boggled my mind.

A tall man with a helmet of curly brown hair and a ridiculously long scarf appeared to be the hero of the show, this "Doctor Who" although I noticed no one ever called him that, just "The Doctor". And he didn't doanything. Well, I mean, he walked, he run, he did stuff with machines and talked a lot. But where's his phaser or light saber, you know all the stuff science fiction heroes are supposed to have? Maybe he had super powers but he didn't seem to be super strong or possess telekinesis or anything of that sort. 

And there was this young woman who appeared to be a sidekick. Or a damsel in distress. Or something. All I know she asked a lot of questions and screamed lot. 

And everyone was oh so properly British. Don't know why but that struck me as odd.

And there was sort of thing. What I could gather, it was some kind of weird mutant alien plant creature. Apparently, in England, plant life looks like rubber. 

And a lot of other..stuff...transpired over the half hour and then it ended. Or rather, it didn't. There was a moment of intense danger, things look very dire indeed and then....the swirling light effects and closing credits.

The other college students who had gathered to watch this seemed rather happy over what they had just seen. Me, I'm wondering that perhaps they were high or something. Because what I saw wasn't worth the joyous outburst I was witnessing. 

I thought Doctor Who was the dumbest thing I had ever seen. An absurdly dressed hero who didn't act like a hero, a goofy looking monster/alien thing that would've embarrassed third season Star Trek. The whole thing looked silly.

And these five other people must know that too. Yeah, they were probably enjoying this show on some kind of ironic level. 

The next day, I had an evening class to attend that started at 6:30 PM. There were a few pages from the assigned text I hadn't read yet and I had a half hour before class so I ducked into Elliot Student Center to find a spot to read. There were those five people watching that silly show again. 

But I was mildly curious: how would that cliffhanger from the last episode be resolved? I really didn't care that much but OK, to satisfy that small bit of curiosity, I would watch just long enough to see how that worked out. But then I would need to go. I had to get ready for a class and I didn't have time to waste on this silly little TV show.

30 minutes later I was scrambling down the hall towards my class. I couldn't believe I had stood there and watched that whole "silly little TV show". Although, well, it wasn't completely silly. This Doctor Who guy was a different sort of hero, solving problems with his wits. I had to admit that was interesting to me. Still, it was a very silly show. 

A month later, that group of five people watching that "silly little TV show" had become a group of six. I knew their names: Mike, John, Laird, Anna & Tracy. And I knew that strange very different hero on the TV screen was not Doctor Who, he was The Doctor

And so my journeys with the Doctor began. 

Friday, September 1, 2017

The Return of... Ted Cruz Is A Lying Fuck Bastard

Oh, those were such... innocent times. 

Last year, I was posting a regular series of posts called...

I figured enough people were paying attention to Donald Trump and I knew (I  just KNEW) he would sooner or later implode and someone else would have to be the Republican nominee for President and God help us, it might be Ted Cruz.

So it was my mission to remind the world at every opportunity....

Yes, those were such... innocent times.

Anyway, Trump has been so much shit as president, I almost forgot about the prevaricating pudding head from Texas. But in the aftermath of the tragedy of Hurricane Harvey, I have been reminded.... Oh dear Lord! I have been REMINDED (Can I get an "Amen!"? "AMEN!" Bless you!) that once more and forever he shall be....

Let's hear from Sen. Ted Cruz: "The accurate thing to say is that I and a number of others enthusiastically and emphatically supported hurricane relief for Sandy. It’s not right for politicians to exploit a disaster when people are hurting to pay for their own political wish list."

What brought this up is that Sen Cruz has his hat in hand looking for help for all those poor people who have been devastated by the storm damage and horrendous flooding from Harvey. 

As well he should he! Good job, looking out for your constituents like that, you lying fuck bastard.  

You see, back in 2012, when New Jersey and New York were slammed by Hurricane Sandy, a relief package came up for a vote. Much like the relief that Cruz is looking for to help Texas. But back in 2013, Cruz voted against the Sandy aid bill.  

Cruz defended his 2013 vote, claiming the Sandy aid bill had "unrelated pork" and "two-thirds of that bill had nothing to do with Sandy."

But New Jersey Governor Chris Christie ain't having it. "It is an absolute, outright falsehood," Christie told CNN, referring to Cruz's "two-thirds" claim. His TV appearances Wednesday are the latest in a series of blistering verbal attacks Christie has unleashed against Cruz in recent days, raking him over the coals for wanting Harvey aid despite voting against funds for Christie's state when it was in a similar time of need.

The Washington Post, meanwhile, fact-checked the senator's claim and gave it “Three Pinocchios,” meaning “significant factual error and/or obvious contradictions.” The paper said the Sandy bill was not filled with pork and the majority of the funds supported disaster relief, contrary to what Cruz claimed.

Or to put it another way....

Along with Cruz, Republican Texas Sen. John Cornyn and 23 House members from Texas voted against Sandy relief. The measure passed anyway.

Rep. Pete King, R-N.Y., called Cruz a "hypocrite," but said he would support aid to Texas.

Going on Fox & Friends (but of course), Cruz continued to defend his version of events. “For folks who are focused on raising political shots and snipes about the Sandy bill, facts matter,” Cruz continued. “And a simple fact was that Sandy bill was over $50 billion, and 70 percent of it was non-emergency.”

I will agree with Ted Cruz on at least one thing: facts do, indeed, matter. 

And here's a fact I hold near and dear to my heart. 

Can I get an "Amen!"? 


Bless you!

DAMN! I've missed this!!! 

Thursday, August 31, 2017

No Thing Today

So, here's the thing.....

OK, sorry. No thing. Not today.

Maybe tomorrow?  

Maybe tomorrow there will be a thing?


Wednesday, August 30, 2017

Weird Ass Kirby: OMAC

This past Monday, August 28th, was the 100th anniversary of the birth of Jack Kirby. 

Millions of words have been written extolling the virtues of the man the comic books fans called the King. The dynamism of his layouts. The power of his pencils. His provocative use of form and function.

Hell, even the man's speed was an extraordinary thing. Jack Kirby could produce about 15 pages of week.

And another thing about Jack Kirby: he had some weird ass ideas. 

A tough but quiet man, a product of a Depression era New York childhood, Kirby had some really far out ideas about the world outside our view, about the future.

And one of Jack's most "weird ass" concepts was O.M.A.C. 

For today's post, I'm going to look at some 2 page spreads from King Kirby's short lived DC series.

Oh my God! See what I mean about "weird ass". That fever dream of a 2 page spread can be found in O.M.A.C.#1. This issue introduces us to non-descript Buddy Blank in a not too distant future, "the world that's coming" as Kirby describes it on the cover.  When zapped by an energy ray from an orbiting satellite called Brother Eye, Blank is transformed into O.M.A.C.: One Man Army Corps.  

Check out this wild spree as O.M.A.C. plunges into a an army of goons!

As way out there as they seemed in 1974, O.M.A.C. was a platform to examine concepts of government, capitalism and social relationships taken to bizarre extremes. Yet those extremes seems oddly prescient if you look out your window in 2017. 

OK, you may not exactly see this strange creature if you look out your window in 2017. (Although  the resemblance to Steve Bannon is uncanny.)  By all accounts, Jack Kirby was a kind sweet man but damn! What kind of nightmare fuel was Kirby on to create this thing?

Another two page spread with Kirby unleashed. an overwrought piece of future tech run amuck! And dig that energy rippling around O.M.A.C.. It's an effect called Kirby Krackle! And there is a rock band out there in the world we live in called Kirby Krackle!

Yes, something Jack Kirby created gave name to a rock band!

How awesome was Jack Kirby? 

How totally freakingly wonderfully weird ass was Jack Kirby? 


Tuesday, August 29, 2017

Sleep Habits

Yesterday was my first day at work in almost 2 weeks. It’s always a bit of an adjustment getting back to work because left to its own devices, my body gets used to taking a nap… whenever. As it has over the last several days.

Rest is important in recovering from an illness or a surgical procedure but I really like to sleep.   

  • It’s 9:30. What should I do? How about a nap? Great idea!
  • Around 11, before I have lunch, maybe a nap? By all means: nap!
  • 1:15 PM and I’m tired out from lunch. Time for a nap? Yep! 
  • 3:00 in the afternoon. You know what time it is? Mid-afternoon nap!
  • It’s 5:00. Wife due home around 6. Should I take a nap? Oh, I should, I should.
  • Around 8:00, it’s time for my early evening nap.

Around 11:00 PM, a whole day of napping has left me exhausted. Time for bed. 

My wife enables me in my napping. “David, you’ve been through surgery. You need to rest and recover.” OK, I’ll go with that but I have to be real: on any given day, I could keep that nap schedule.

“Gee, David. Maybe you have a problem?” you might ask.  “No, I don’t and fuck off,” I respond so eruditely as I roll over to go back to sleep. 

But the fine folks at Cone Hospital tend to agree with you. While going through pre-admission for my recent surgery, some red flags went up that suggested to the hospital that I have sleep apnea.  One of those ref flags was the size of my neck.

Sleep apnea is when you stop breathing in your sleep which kind of puts the kibosh on a full night’s restful sleep.

So I’m on schedule for a sleep study. Normally this involves: 

  • Travelling to a place that’s not your home…
  • Going into a room that’s not your room and….
  • Sleeping in a bed that’s not your bed.

All the while attached to wires that limit your movements including the ability to get up and go pee when you want to. (And readers of this post know how strongly I feel about that.)  

In my case, though, I can get an in-home sleep study package which I will get to use on September 19th. So another medical thing to go through this year. 

More on that later. For now, I am quite fatigued after a day with no naps. I’m so glad my suffering amuses you.

Until next time, remember to be good to one another.  

Monday, August 28, 2017

Harvey: A Couple of Ways To Help

Today is Monday. This morning, I meet with my surgeon to get my stitches taken out of my left arm and get my butt back to work after more than a week off.

Meanwhile, a big chunk of Texas is still dealing with Tropical Storm Harvey which continues to drop plenty of rain on regions of the state still underwater beginning when Harvey slammed into Texas as a Category 4 hurricane a couple of days ago.  

If you're looking to offer support to help the devastated people of Texas, there are a couple of optios. Over on News From ME, Mark Evanier suggests Operation USA which is a charity Mark knows to do very good work. Mark notes that "only a tiny fraction of what you give them goes to administrative costs and staff salaries…and I'm not suggesting there aren't other charities where most of your donation dollars don't make it to the needy. But when I give to Operation U.S.A., I know I'm not paying for its CEO's shag carpeting."

And on Twitter, former President Obama offers this course of action to prove aid to those people in need.  

Sunday, August 27, 2017

Doctor Who: Past & Future

A quick Doctor Who post this weekend.

My family enjoyed a trip to Doctor Who's past about two weeks ago with an excursion to see Riff Traxx take ob the 20th anniversary special, The Five Doctors.  

Riff Traxx are performers from the classic Mystery Science Theater 3000. They lead an uproariously laughing audience through a showing of The Five Doctors. While I fondly recall this special episode of the classic series, there were more than a sufficient number of absurdities and lapses in logic to fuel an extremely funny take on the show by the Riff Traxx crew.  

Looking to the future, it looks like incoming producer Chris Chibnall has picked a man old enough to be Jodie Whittaker’s father as a companion to Whittaker’s new Doctor.
The actor is Bradley Walsh, known for his roles on 
Coronation Street and Law & Order UK. 

I had really hoped Jodie Whittaker’s new Doctor would have a traditional young female companion. If it doesn't matter if the Doctor is male or female, why should a change in gender need a change in the companion? I rather hoped to see a young woman companion looking to this new Doctor as a mentor figure, a sort of relationship that doesn't get explored that often in television. The optics of an older man as the companion risks making Jodie Whittaker’s Doctor appear to be subservient. 

OK, tomorrow, I meet with my surgeon to see how my post-surgery recovery has progressed. I'm hoping things get back to something resembling normal around here. 

Until next time, remember to be good to one another.   

Saturday, August 26, 2017


OK, it's been a week and a day since surgery on my left arm. It's still a bit stiff and it stings a bit but it's doing much better. 

Now I've got some damn thing going on with  my right foot. It hurts in the arch and the top of the foot. Bad enough to seek medical assistance. After X-Rays found nothing wrong, the answer remains, "We're not sure what's causing that."

All told, I am feeling rather... bleh. No, not bleh. I'm feeling BLEH.  

Off to couch to watch Hurricane Harvey coverage.  


Friday, August 25, 2017

Operation Day: The Review

Caution; during the latter part of today's post, I will go into a protracted rant about urination. Just thought I should give you a heads up about it. 


So this time last week, I was in the evil clutches... er, gentle hands of the American health care system. 

I arrived at Cone Hospital at 7:30 AM with my wife Andrea for pre-surgery prep work. The admissions part had been handled separately the week before.   

The surgery itself was scheduled for 9:30 AM but I was informed my surgeon, Dr. Handy (I'm not making that up) was ready to go right away so the prep work was off and running. 

Lying in a hospital bed, naked under a pale blue hospital gown with little yellow socks on my feet and a clear shower cap over my hair, I watched bemused as about a half dozen nurses scurried about doing whatever they had to do. 

One was charged with setting up the IV. It's not my favorite thing as a nurse stuck me with the sharpest needle ever in the most sensitive part of my right hand. Having been stuck with lots of needles over the course of 2017, the IV needle is always the worse. 

With the exeption of the cather needle which is stuck in the penis. They did that to me the night in January when I first fell. THEY STUCK. A NEEDLE. IN MY PENIS.

Sorry. Still can't believe they did that.  

Otherwise, the IV needle is the worst. What makes up for it is the bag of happy liquid that gets hooked to a tube which is the hooked to the IV port in my hand and....

Whoa. That feels so good.  

Anyway, met with my anesthesiologist.  Or he may have been a cast member of Grey's Anatomy.  I guess everyone had poked and prodded me within the guidelines set forth by the Affordable Care Act, my wife said goodbye, the wheels on my bed were unlocked and I was off to have my operation. 

My next memory was waking up in post-op. It was like my life was a TV show. I'm wheeled off to surgery, we cut away for commercials and we come back and find out what went down during the ad break. 

The surgery took longer than expected but ultimately was successful. Yes, I am now the woman I always dreamed I could be.  

No, just kidding. I'll save that for the next surgery. (Still kidding.)

The bone mass was excised and apparently while Dr. Handy was in there, my fore arm was... lengthened for... reasons? It was all explained to me by a physical therapist and it's all good. 

The plan was for this procedure to be out-patient but instead I would be a guest of the hospital for the night to make sure my pain medication was sufficient to regulate my pain.  So I would be off to a room.  

Meanwhile, hanging out in post-op, there were a couple of delays.  

  • My room wasn't ready as the staff that was supposed to be doing that were at lunch. 
  • Andrea couldn't be found. Turned out she was at lunch so there's that.  
  • My post op nurse was very pleasant with me but she was a bit cranky as she had not had lunch yet.  
  • Still a bit swimmy headed coming out of the anesthesia, the last thing I wanted to think about lunch. 

With happy juice still in my veins, I was one copacetic dude. 

I was chill. 

I was chill as fuck. 

I closed my eyes and eventually things got done, placing me in a room. And it was the exact same room I was in after my elbow surgery back in January. Not close, not similar. The exact same room. 

As I'n being wired into equipment in my hospital room, I realize,  I NEED TO PEE!

As I've gotten older, this how peeing works for me now.  

  • Do I need to pee? No, I'm good. I can wait.  
  • Do I need to pee? No, I'm good. I can wait.  
  • Do I need to pee? No, I'm good. I can wait.  
  • Do I need to pee? OH MY GOD! I NEED TO PEE! AND I I NEED TO PEE NOW!!!

There is no transitional moment, nothing like...

  • Do I need to pee? A little but nothing urgent. I can wait.  
  • Do I need to pee? Yeah, kind of. Next chance I get, I should probably go to the restroom.  

Nope. Straight from "no, I'm good" to Code Orange Terror ALERT I NEED TO PEE NOW!!!

In my room, the side of my bed and the door to my restroom is two feet away. From the door, another two feet more or less to the toilet. 

But the nurses tell me because I'm still recovering from surgery and coming off anesthesia, I'n not allowed to stand, let alone walk. No, I will have to pee lying in bed into a plastic container or they will have to cath me. 

Flashback to January: THEY STUCK. A NEEDLE. IN MY PENIS.

Suffice to say I was not chill as fuck. 

I was not chill in any capacity. 

I was no longer a copacetic dude. 

They gave me this plastic container thing for me to pee in while lying in bed. So under my blanket and under my hospital gown, I'm sticking my penis in a plastic pitcher.  

Desdpite being in a Code Orange Terror Alert I NEED TO PEE NOW state of mind, I can't urinate. Despite my urgent need, a half century of my body knowing not to pee while lying down could not be overridden.  I'm lying in bed, holding this container over my penis, desperate to urinate and my body refusing to cooperate. This was most frustrating and to add to that, I'm very tired from the surgery, the anesthesia and pain meds. I wanted nothing more than to just give into all that and just rest. If I could only fucking pee into this plastic bottle thing. 

I was whiney about this but I damn well deserved to be. After nearly two hours, I was finally able to produce some urine into the container. Which I promptly spilled on the bed sheets between my legs. 

I push the call button, explained why I needed help. Nurses come in who do not look happy with me. I'm sure one was thinking, "He's a man! Men can pee into a bottle? Why is this bozo making it so fucking difficult?"  

One of the nurses suggests to let's see if I can stand, then taking it very carefully and slowly, they would guide  me to the toilet. 

Which was a very good idea and I thought so 2 hours earlier when I suggested it. 

Oh hell yeah, let's see if I can stand!

Cautiously, I am helped to my feet to a standing position. 

Carefully and slowly, I shuffle my feet, IV in tow, towards the toilet. Standing over the toilet like a triumphant colossus, I let go with a torrent of urine like a damn roaring river. 

I'm peeing like a fucking boss. 

I called out "Yoo-hoo!"

This was, in that moment, dignity. Not fumbling with a plastic bottle lying in a bed, that's not fucking dignity. There's not a lot to be dignified about in a hospital; you check a lot of your shame at the door. But don't deny a man a chance to retain a shred of dignity by denying him a chance to stand on his own feet to fucking pee in a fucking toilet. 

As the urine continued to blast out, I shouted, "Oh hell yeah! That is THE stuff!" 

My moment of dignity, you damn well better believe it. 

Finally satisfactorily drained of liquid waste, I was directed back to my dry, clean bed where I finally was able to let every cell in my body just give in to a deep and restful slumber which was all I ever wanted to do all along. 

There were other minor challenges and annoyances through the night and into the morning that marred my waking moments before I was released on noon Saturday.  But compared to that whole urination fiasco, I was able to deal. 

As I write this, I'm still limited to the use of one hand. My left arm is coming around post-surgery OK; pain and stiffness are still a thing but getting better. 

So I will halt this narrative at this point for now. Thanks for reading and remember to be good to one another.  

All Things Must Pass

Hi there. Today is post # 1,600 to I'm So Glad My Suffering Amuses You. I'm not sure I should count all of them since some were ...