So, I know it's been a while but get off my back. I was in the hospital. Ok, I was only in the hospital for a week but I almost died! What happened?! I hear you asking. Well, I'll get to that because I consider that a "recent event" since I've only been out of the hospital for 2 weeks. I am actually mad at myself that I didn't post while I was in the hospital because they had me on morphine and dilauded and that would have been an awesome post to read later on. But now that I'm feeling better I thought to myself, "I better post something because the five people out there who read this blog are probably getting on with their lives now." We can't have that. Also, there's a lot going on and I have something to say about it!
Let's be honest, everything in the world takes a back seat to zombies. The CDC has a zombie attack survival guide on their website. There is a legitimate magazine dedicated to preparing for a zombie attack and you can order weapons etc. from said magazine. Sure, it's all fun. Or it was until May 26 when Rudy Eugene was shot and killed for attacking Ronald Poppo and eating his face. I'm sure you've all heard about this by now but just in case you haven't, let me reiterate...he ate the guy's face. Ate it. Not only that, but the police report states that when the officer arrived on the scene, Eugene looked at him and growled and continued eating! But wait! There's more! When Eugene did not heed the officer's warning to back away from the victim, the officer had to shoot him "several times" before he died. Now there's a lot of speculation going around about how it was some drug induced craze but I have seen Dawn of the Dead, Day of the Dead, The Walking Dead, Zombieland, and I have played Resident Evil and Left for Dead and this all seems like zombie bullshit to me. Ronald Poppo survived the attack and is in the hospital. I'm just saying...they need to keep an eye on him and put him down when he tries to bite the nurse. Which he will.
Who doesn't love puppies? Everyone loves puppies even people who don't like dogs love puppies. They're cute and fuzzy and they have little to no motor skills so they're hilarious and my emergency backup dog, Alice had 8 of them about 6 weeks ago. And they were all of the above things for about 4 weeks. Now they're just fuzzy, cute little poop machines. I don't have an outdoor pen so I have fashioned a puppy prison out of coffee tables and a table I use regularly for beer pong so that I can at least control the area the poop is in and get it on paper and make the cleanup easier, right? Hahahahahahaha. The puppies have this cute habit of playing with the newspapers. It's so cuuuute. They tear it up and then poop on the floor! CUTE! I take them outside and they poop on the porch! CUTE! I feed them right before bed time so they'll sleep for 2 hours before waking up and screaming. I know, I know. Puppies don't scream. They whimper and whine. Well, I have some bizarre cross of puppy/baby/screech owls because these puppies scream to the point that I think maybe one of the coffee tables has fallen over and squished them! Oh no! I run out of my bedroom and the screaming gets louder. Haha. I didn't think that was possible! And they're fine, of course. Last night I slept a full 8 hours and woke up this morning thinking, wow. The puppies sure are quiet today. Of course, during the night they had staged the Great Puppy Escape and there were puppies everywhere! And of course, poop everywhere. I love puppies. Puppies are so cute.
3. Near Death Experience
So, I say it was a near death experience only because I nearly died, but it doesn't feel like I nearly died. Ok, so here is what happened. I left work to go the hospital because I had a kidney stone. I've had kidney stones before so I knew that's what it was and I knew that if I didn't get to the hospital it wouldn't be long before I was curled up on the floor in the fetal position and crying like a baby. So, I got to the hospital and I told them what was wrong and of course they wanted what they always want: a urine sample. They always want a urine sample but they only want one when you don't have to go. I told them I couldn't go to the bathroom but that I was in an extreme amount of pain and then I threw up in the little bag they gave me and said the following exact phrase: "Please either help me or kill me." They determined that I had a pulled muscle in my back and gave me an anti-inflamatory and a muscle relaxer and sent me home with a nice clean vomit bag since I couldn't seem to stop throwing up. In fact, over the course of the following 24 hours, I threw up exactly 14 times. While I was lying in my bed in sweat pants and a sweater, shivering with a bucket close by the thought occurred to me that I might need to go back to the emergency room. I've never had a pulled muscle but it didn't seem like it should be causing me to throw up my guts every time I took a sip of water. I got back to the hospital and they gave me a new vomit bag and this time they actually took some blood from me and without explaining anything admitted me into the hospital, stuck an IV in my arm and pumped me full of drugs. As I was wavering between reality and sweet, sweet release I looked at the wall and saw the pain chart which reminded me of this and I laughed not only because this young woman is talented and funny but because they didn't have her pain chart on the wall and I definitely needed at least number 11 or even "too serious for numbers". Within the next day I was x-rayed and poked and prodded and all this was fine because I was heavily sedated. When I came to my senses, an actual real life doctor came to see me and I said "Can I go home now?" and she laughed at me and said "No." Then she explained to me that I didn't have a kidney stone. I had five kidney stones. I also had a kidney infection, a urinary tract infection, blood poisoning and because I had become so dehydrated from puking my brains and my guts out, my kidneys had stopped working altogether. She concluded this with saying, "If you had not come back to the emergency room, you would have died." This seems serious but all I could think was, "This seems pretty extreme for a pulled muscle." It just didn't seem all that serious to me because when people say, "I almost died" they usually mean they got hit by a bus or mauled by a bear or choked on a string bean or got tricked into watching all the Twilight movies in one sitting or got tricked into watching even one Twilight movie. All of these things give a sense of impending doom. Not that throwing up is fun or anything but I never thought "I'm dying" or even "I'm going to die". This just goes to show you, you never know when you're going out and that's why I'm a smoker. My kidneys are trying to kill me, not my lungs.