Everything is set. Everything is ready to go.
I am leery of undergoing the procedure, but it needs to be done. No more procrastinating. Today is The Day. Surgery at 2:00 p.m.
Right now, it's 11:00 a.m., which means the ambulance transport should be here any minute. They'll be taking me (and my caregiver) across town, a marginally scenic 45 minute drive out to Mesa, Arizona (to Banner Abrazo Desert Center Regional Hospital of Mesa and Vicinity). And at long last I'll have my troublesome remaining teeth removed. And perhaps eventually, due to this, I'll be pain free from the neck up.
From the neck down, especially including the upper left abdominal area … well, that's a lost cause, not much hope there. That's more a matter of ‘how much pain a human can tolerate before they murder themselves’ sort of thing. And really, humans can survive all kinds of day to day awfulness. That's how our divine maker built us … to endure prolonged everlasting suffering. Then again, that's all a matter of perspective. I'm sure there are millions upon millions of people who suffer worse than you and I do, so there's no point in whining about all of this. Besides, that's not what this blog entry is about. And it'll never be about that (exclusively).
“Thou shalt not dwell upon the pain” an imaginary religious entity may have once stated at The Sermon of The Mountain Dew. So nope, this entry is all about dealing with a long-standing issue having to do with…. ummmmm …. pain. I guess.
Ohhhh, well. At least pain motivates change. Or attempted change.
Failure is simply a mindset. Or some such.
Now it's 11:16 a.m. and I am growing concerned (no, I am not growing taller, this is as tall as I get). Anyways, there's no transport vehicle yet! So I call these ambulance people on the phone.
“Yo! I need da ambulance. What up which you?”
“Sorry sir, looks like they're running late, and they won't be here until after 12:30,” Francine the Dispatcher tells me.
“But you don't understand,” I try explaining, “I'm supposed to be at the hospital by noon, Arizona Mountain Desert Pacific Standard Time!”
“Sorry about that, we'll do the best we can.”
But will they?
So I make a series of phone calls, advising the appropriate people that I'd be running late.
Fortunately, those people gave me a drop dead time of 2:00 p.m. - Sooo as long as I made it to Desert Mesa Abrazo St. Luke’s Regional Hospital of Mesa by then, they would be joylessly waiting for me.
Well, get this … the ambulance transport didn't arrive until 1:20 p.m. That gave me 40 minutes to make the 45 minute trip to the hospital, not to mention the additional time required for my getting out of bed, riding the stairlift downstairs, and then transferring from one wheelchair to another chair, and then into the ambulance itself.
There was no way I'd make it in time.
So that was the end of that. I sent my caregiver home. And now I have to wait a month, maybe two, for another opportunity.
Something good did come out of this though. It was deemed wholly necessary that I fast for 12 hours leading up to the procedure. And in that time never-everlasting, my gut was pain-free. Can you believe it?
So again, it's ingesting sustenance that kills me. The bloating / stretching of my abdomen leads to, and is the cause for, my stoma (feeding tube insertion site) pain.
I already knew this, but it's a definitively obvious reminder that my life's daily focus should be on resolving THAT particular issue.
IF I was able to solve THAT equation, I know I’d eventually be able to walk again - perhaps within months of having done so. My energy is fairly decent these days (thanks to vitamin D and direct summer sunlight exposure… when it's f••••• 117° outdoors), but more often than not, physical movement increases the pain.
Eh, whatever…. everybody suffers in some fashion … especially the men who wear those skinny f•••••• jeans. What's with those? The men that wear them look as though their legs consist of nothing more than hinged toothpicks.
Positive Things
At long last (and as you may have gleaned from the previous paragraphs) the stairlift has been installed! Woohoo!
I used it for the first time two weeks ago and … I got stuck at the bottom of the stairs near the garage doorway. No air conditioning down there, and no immediate means to get back up the stairs … unless I called 911 and had the fire department carry me back up the stairs. Of course, I didn't want to do that unless I had to.
So I called the people who installed the stair lift, and luckily, the installation guy happened to be just down the street from me, and was able to show up within the hour. Meanwhile, I was uncomfortably stuck, but at least my caregiver was there to offer moral support.
I haven't tried the stairlift since, but I probably should. The installation guy took everything apart and put it back together again, but has no idea why it wouldn't work at the time. No, that's not reassuring, but I need to keep taking chances, I suppose.
Forward Momentum
Guess what? I purchased another damn guitar. It's an Enya Sonic Go electric guitar with a built-in speaker. Why did I purchase it? Because I deserve things. Well, really I don't. But why the hell not?
Beyond the convenience of having the built-in speaker, the guitar is far easier to play than the acoustic guitar I purchased while living in the nursing home. Plus, the new guitar actually stays in tune more than five minutes at a time … which is not unexpected, considering the used acoustic guitar was purchased for a mere $90.
Once I build up my guitar slinging skills, I can also record directly into my laptop. So hurray for me! It appears as though guitar oriented songs are on the horizon.
Signing Off and Signing Out
All right then, I guess that's that. Or this is that. Or that was this, which is now that. Thank you for reading my entry. Hopefully some of this is at least marginally interesting.
Take care,
Howard
New Axe
Dust Storms Make Dirty Glass
I am leery of undergoing the procedure, but it needs to be done. No more procrastinating. Today is The Day. Surgery at 2:00 p.m.
Right now, it's 11:00 a.m., which means the ambulance transport should be here any minute. They'll be taking me (and my caregiver) across town, a marginally scenic 45 minute drive out to Mesa, Arizona (to Banner Abrazo Desert Center Regional Hospital of Mesa and Vicinity). And at long last I'll have my troublesome remaining teeth removed. And perhaps eventually, due to this, I'll be pain free from the neck up.
From the neck down, especially including the upper left abdominal area … well, that's a lost cause, not much hope there. That's more a matter of ‘how much pain a human can tolerate before they murder themselves’ sort of thing. And really, humans can survive all kinds of day to day awfulness. That's how our divine maker built us … to endure prolonged everlasting suffering. Then again, that's all a matter of perspective. I'm sure there are millions upon millions of people who suffer worse than you and I do, so there's no point in whining about all of this. Besides, that's not what this blog entry is about. And it'll never be about that (exclusively).
“Thou shalt not dwell upon the pain” an imaginary religious entity may have once stated at The Sermon of The Mountain Dew. So nope, this entry is all about dealing with a long-standing issue having to do with…. ummmmm …. pain. I guess.
Ohhhh, well. At least pain motivates change. Or attempted change.
Failure is simply a mindset. Or some such.
Now it's 11:16 a.m. and I am growing concerned (no, I am not growing taller, this is as tall as I get). Anyways, there's no transport vehicle yet! So I call these ambulance people on the phone.
“Yo! I need da ambulance. What up which you?”
“Sorry sir, looks like they're running late, and they won't be here until after 12:30,” Francine the Dispatcher tells me.
“But you don't understand,” I try explaining, “I'm supposed to be at the hospital by noon, Arizona Mountain Desert Pacific Standard Time!”
“Sorry about that, we'll do the best we can.”
But will they?
So I make a series of phone calls, advising the appropriate people that I'd be running late.
Fortunately, those people gave me a drop dead time of 2:00 p.m. - Sooo as long as I made it to Desert Mesa Abrazo St. Luke’s Regional Hospital of Mesa by then, they would be joylessly waiting for me.
Well, get this … the ambulance transport didn't arrive until 1:20 p.m. That gave me 40 minutes to make the 45 minute trip to the hospital, not to mention the additional time required for my getting out of bed, riding the stairlift downstairs, and then transferring from one wheelchair to another chair, and then into the ambulance itself.
There was no way I'd make it in time.
So that was the end of that. I sent my caregiver home. And now I have to wait a month, maybe two, for another opportunity.
Something good did come out of this though. It was deemed wholly necessary that I fast for 12 hours leading up to the procedure. And in that time never-everlasting, my gut was pain-free. Can you believe it?
So again, it's ingesting sustenance that kills me. The bloating / stretching of my abdomen leads to, and is the cause for, my stoma (feeding tube insertion site) pain.
I already knew this, but it's a definitively obvious reminder that my life's daily focus should be on resolving THAT particular issue.
IF I was able to solve THAT equation, I know I’d eventually be able to walk again - perhaps within months of having done so. My energy is fairly decent these days (thanks to vitamin D and direct summer sunlight exposure… when it's f••••• 117° outdoors), but more often than not, physical movement increases the pain.
Eh, whatever…. everybody suffers in some fashion … especially the men who wear those skinny f•••••• jeans. What's with those? The men that wear them look as though their legs consist of nothing more than hinged toothpicks.
Positive Things
At long last (and as you may have gleaned from the previous paragraphs) the stairlift has been installed! Woohoo!
I used it for the first time two weeks ago and … I got stuck at the bottom of the stairs near the garage doorway. No air conditioning down there, and no immediate means to get back up the stairs … unless I called 911 and had the fire department carry me back up the stairs. Of course, I didn't want to do that unless I had to.
So I called the people who installed the stair lift, and luckily, the installation guy happened to be just down the street from me, and was able to show up within the hour. Meanwhile, I was uncomfortably stuck, but at least my caregiver was there to offer moral support.
I haven't tried the stairlift since, but I probably should. The installation guy took everything apart and put it back together again, but has no idea why it wouldn't work at the time. No, that's not reassuring, but I need to keep taking chances, I suppose.
Forward Momentum
Guess what? I purchased another damn guitar. It's an Enya Sonic Go electric guitar with a built-in speaker. Why did I purchase it? Because I deserve things. Well, really I don't. But why the hell not?
Beyond the convenience of having the built-in speaker, the guitar is far easier to play than the acoustic guitar I purchased while living in the nursing home. Plus, the new guitar actually stays in tune more than five minutes at a time … which is not unexpected, considering the used acoustic guitar was purchased for a mere $90.
Once I build up my guitar slinging skills, I can also record directly into my laptop. So hurray for me! It appears as though guitar oriented songs are on the horizon.
Signing Off and Signing Out
All right then, I guess that's that. Or this is that. Or that was this, which is now that. Thank you for reading my entry. Hopefully some of this is at least marginally interesting.
Take care,
Howard
New Axe
Dust Storms Make Dirty Glass
