Disclaimer: Forgive my language. There is pain involved
First off, I don’t wanna sound like a cry baby or anything like that but, for the record I have to get this out of the way…
I am grateful that I have good health and that I’m not blind, deaf or mentally, physically handicapped, or that fat and sassy, nor am I slow crossing an intersection or have my picture posted in a post office (up to this moment) under the nom de’guerre “Wanted Fugitive” (I can’t believe I knew how to spell nom de’guerre….)
Anywho….don’t wanna get side-tracked.
Stay focused, Trey!
I’ve had a pretty rough time here of late.
I don’t know if a lot of you have been keeping up with my blog as well as you should have with the level of admiration and awe that I deem necessary and appropriate to fully appreciate my creative genius but, that’s ok….you’re only human. I understand that you must eat, sleep and work…sometimes.
As soon as I turned 50 years old, and I SWEAR it’s the Gods honest truth, my perfect healthy life has gone to hell in a hay basket!
The terrible part is that even though I have been a robust, handsome and sexual dynamo the majority of my days, I must admit that I am a closet paranoid hypochondriac with narcissistic tendencies and low self esteem. (Figure that one out)
I’ve come out of the closet about this malady in an earlier post.
Here goes my decline in to gerontology…
First….they tell me I have diabetes.
Second…they tell me I have high blood pressure.
Third…they tell me I have erectile dysfunction.
Fourth…I have no reason to go on living…..
I’ve been to the doctor A LOT more, lately.
The next big thing was a fungal infection on my legs, left hand and the small of my back; kinda like eczema; lasted 2 months. I’ve never ever had rashes or skin infections like that before in my life.
I thought I was gonna go mad with the itching and scratching.
Then poof….it was gone.
AHA! I knew the superior gene pool thingy would kick in sooner or later!
I AM SUPERMAN!!!!
THIS IS SPARTA!!!!
I mean, I grew up on a pig farm, I am immune to everything.
Except big boobs….
The next medical episode was a heart stent. I went to the doctor for a possible cold, first one in my life and “they” told me I had an 80% blockage in one of my arteries.
The next thing I know, I’m laying on a table with masked men and women all around me, watching a TV screen as they shoved a wire and balloons into my heart….
“You’ll be as right as rain in just a minute…No, don’t mind the alarm beeping on the monitor”
I hate cholesterol….
Now I’m walking around with a wire basket in my heart wondering when it’s gonna tear loose and go into my brain and make my head explode.
….paranoid hypochondriac, remember?
Now…I’ve got boils, abscesses’, infected in-grown hairs, staph infection or whatever you wanna call it.
I call it freaking leprosy!!! Call me, JOB!!! (biblical pronunciation for that one guy in that one story)
I don’t know how it happened because I am a clean freak. I mean, if in-grown hairs and puss leaking boils have anything to do with cleanliness…IT WAS’NT ME THAT DID IT!!!
I would shower ten times a day if I could but, my erectile dysfunction limits me to only once a day…
It’s my erectile dysfunction and I can wash it as fast as I want to….
I try to be healthy and keep myself squeaky clean and nice smelling for a trucker.
I put the lotion on my skin before it gets the hose again…
Another problem I have to go along with all of these recent skin eruptions is that I am a ferocious picker of sores and scabs.
I don’t know why…
I’m a grown man, I know better than to pick at them but, I am also an idiot, unfortunately.
I went to the ER because the ones under my arm were torture.
The one on my forearm was only swelling and turning colors; purple and black clash….
Since I have large breasts for a guy and some baggy skin in places I tend to be somewhat bouncy and sweaty in hard to properly maintain and monitor places, so in-grown hairs could happen, theoretically.
I’m lying there on the ER table and the Doc says “This is gonna sting and burn”
The Doc was an honest man.
When he shoved the huge, bent and barbed needle into my armpit I only pissed on myself a little bit at first but, as he started to move it around into the meaty flesh, I tinkled most copiously.
Then, like doctors are want to do, he pushed in the plunger.
As the boiling hot acid aka Lidocaine forced itself into my subcutaneous epidermal fat cells beneath the armpit boo boos, I only shat on myself……not much, just a smudge, really.
There was a moment, sometime during the procedure, when I actually shouted out, in my own defense; inadvertently and completely out of my control, mind you “WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING!!??” when I felt the Doctor snip something that was not in the general anesthetic area…
Ain’t it funny how you can jerk your knees into the air, bend your toes, claw your fingers and bump your head repeatedly on a hard pillow while cussing like a drunken Viking, bent on rape and pillage, completely as a reflex action?
I wonder if God holds those blasphemies against us…
I mean…..the ones we perpetrate during medical procedures…
I hope not….or I’m gonna burn in hell…
Now….2 days later I am sore.
I am on antibiotics and pain medicine.
The only problem is that I can’t take any pain medicine stronger than Tylenol because, as y’all know, I drive a semi-truck for a living and it’s hard to drive one of those big bastards when you forget what you’re doing and can’t see that well…
Oh…and of course, being graceful as I am, I repeatedly bump my forearm boo boo every time I get close to something; or I forget about the stitches holding together my purple, oozing armpit meat and jam my fingers into that quagmire of oily skin and razor stubble to rip and tear at the infected flesh because evidently, I’m not in enough pain as it is and I haven’t taken the Lord’s name in vain for almost 10 minutes….
This morning I took the bandage off that was in my armpit.
There is hair in a man’s armpit….have y’all ever noticed that?
There seems to be tape on bandages as well.
Tape sticks to hair; I didn’t know if y’all knew that.
Blood dries and sticks to gauze…
Anti-stick gauze is a myth….
Have y’all ever noticed how sensitive the skin under your arms is?
I…..know pain, now.
I have seen the gates of hell.
I have met the shadow in the valley of death and kicked him in the balls.
I….have screamed like a girl and meant every. freaking. Second of it.
In hindsight, I should have just had them remove the arm.
I will not go to the doctor anymore.
I will no longer agree to be ill or have boo boos…
I will never, ever allow a bandage to be put under my arm again.
When you pull (ha! Pull!!) tape off of your armpit; you pass thru a moment of clarity, so bright and profound that it takes your breath away…..into sailor speak.
As you lift the edge of the tape with your fingernail to begin the process of removal it becomes very clear that this is gonna hurt like a mother fucker….
“Fuck this” you think. “I know my armpit….it’ll eat the tape and gauze eventually, just leave it alone.”
You take a breath and start to pull.
Your eyes water and your poopy hole winks…
“Nope” you think “Pull in the other direction; WITH the grain, not against”
Yes, I thought this.
Yes, I have lived 50 years and not walked into traffic or willingly stuck a fork in a toaster.
Famous last words:
Note: I am a very, very stupid man.
2nd note: Ripping it off fast does not work. Field tested.