Though I’m sure the play is fantastic and I would love to go and see it. The following description is wicked in a sense but, not wicked as the witch mentioned in the title.
The hillside is sporadically accented with small desert bushes and a light colored dirt and sand mixture. As I look up the hillside that is rather steep, but not too steep to climb, I can see boulders beginning to roll down from above. I turn and look down the hill and it appears to be endless. The boulders are getting closer and to my horror they seem to have hypodermic needles protruding from them. I begin to panic and dive to duck behind a desert bush. The boulders bounce by and careen off the bush I took refuge behind as if the bush itself is made of concrete or steel.
I can tell the boulders are actually made of paper mache and how I can tell this I’ll never know. These images bring me back to the tender age of 7 years old. The first time I’m able to remember the scene.
You have been privileged enough to get a glimpse inside the scary, yet interesting brain of yours truly. What you read is a brief excerpt of a reoccurring precognitive dream I have 99.9% of the time preceding an illness. I enjoyed this vision or dream one a day before I came down with a severe case of gastroenteritis. So severe that it landed me in the hospital the following day so dehydrated they feared I had a gastrointestinal bleed.
I was expelling a black liquid so frequently and violently for more than 24 hours even I got scared. I called my doctor’s office and the head nurse (not that kind of head- you pigs) strongly suggested I get myself to the hospital, posthaste.
I heeded to her advice and started getting myself dressed all the while trying to figure out the best way to break the news to my sometimes, overly dramatic, overly worrisome, caring and loving wife.
We butted heads as we normally do when I need her to focus on our kids and not worry about me. Tis one of the finer jokes in life. “Care about me when I want you to, not when you want to”, I don’t know who said it… actually I think it was just me. Anyway, I gingerly dressed myself with the fear of a rupture of some sort and decided all bets were off.
I was previously arguing with my owner operator about who was driving. I didn’t want her disrupting her routine or the routine of my little babies. She, the wife that is, insisted on the opposite. Of course! I know, I just felt the resounding “Right!” come from the corners of the earth as the married men who read this and know the pain I feel. Thank you gentlemen! We are all in agreement, well most of us at least, that yes indeed, we love you wives. Yes, you are on occasion the rock we lean on when you are not leaning on us. Yes, I’m writing this while my wife innocently slumbers 2 floors up unaware my chauvinistic banter rolls on! Ha!
It’s all in humorous fun you she-man-women-self-righteous beast! Get back you devil! Back!
Let’s skip to the chase. The self-proclaimed boss [a title perpetually under protest] dropped me off at the emergency entrance to Millard Fillmore Suburban Hospital. Seriously, where could I possibly receive better care than a hospital named after a former President of the United States who died in the Buffalo area? Millard Fillmore Quote: “An honorable defeat is better than a dishonorable victory.” Fantastic!
I admitted defeat to a stranger. I would have never admitted that I should have been proactive had I known what was coming. She stuck her long, boney finger up my ass! She rooted and searched for the golden egg, but alas she was unsuccessful! Thank God! Another minute of her finger tickling my tonsils from the other end of the spectrum and I might have laid one [buck-buck-buck-buckaw!!].
An intravenous line of fluids was recommended after a few reluctantly donated vials of blood. I was still reeling from the legalized violation I had just received. I contemplated calling my lawyer and decided I was “owned” at the moment [otherwise known as NOT “winning”] and I should just try and survive the ordeal.
I have thought about this little part of the treatment and I’ll bless you with my thoughts on the matter. I know, you can’t wait!
I signed a piece of paper stating I would gladly let the hospital treat me the most logical and ethical way possible. So here’s my thought… logically, I should have known I was dealing with the intestinal flu. Logically, I should have hydrated better. Logically, she (the PA) stuck her finger up my ass to ethically teach me a lesson about coming to the emergency room with the intestinal flu! I fucking hate the Hippocratic Oath!
After they hydrated me, I was on may way out when I realized my prayers had been answered. It was 1 o’clock on the nose.
The children are going down or are already down for their naps. Precisely why I argued to drive myself. So I wouldn’t upset the apple cart that is my kids’ lives.
Small and big lessons learned by all in the course of this diverted disaster. I could press on with this little ditty but, less is more and all good things must come to an end.
Be healthy, be safe and be positive!
Cheers!