I just say that for effect, but I’d almost start believing in God if this pain would go away. I’ve never had kidney stones, but I’m pretty sure I do now. I’ve been waking up with this horrible pain in the right side of my back for a couple of nights, the likes of which I’ve never felt. If I had to choose what it most resembles, I’d have to go back sixteen years or so to Peterborough on a Saturday night, when twelve guys (probably closer to four) got me down and kicked the piss out of me. They obviously didn’t do a good enough job, because when they were walking away laughing, I yelled out something that might have insinuated that they were cowards. Well, let me tell you this, even cowards don’t like being called that it seems, because they chased me, and being a bit wounded myself, I made it about three feet before I tripped, and then it began again. Wow, I thought I was getting my ass handed to me before. This was way worse in every sense of the word. Anyhow to make a long story somewhat shorter, I was pissing blood for a while and I never drank in Peterborough alone again.
Remember that time I started with one story, and finished with another? Get used to it, I’m a bit of a wild card.
Now I’m at the Trenton hospital, feeling like I just got boot-fucked in my tender bits. I love waiting around with the other patients, singing old negro spirituals and playing charades until, one by one, we are called in to get our fates handed to us by doctors dressed in zoot suits, who sing your test results to the tune of “Yankee Doodle Dandy” .
After we are released with clean bills of health, we march to the beat of a different drummer, all the way down to the Sherwood, where the hospital buys us a round of drinks, and we are thoroughly entertained by a one legged stripper. Sorry, I was just having a painkiller dream. What really happened is that I waited for half an hour, got urine and blood work done, got an IV shot of some dope, drank a big jug of ice water, had an ultrasound, got a prescription, and went to the ball field for chili and cupcakes. Happy birthday YaYa, enjoy ten while you can, we expect you to have a job by the time you’re eleven.
Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve just dropped my nightly dose. It’s bedtime for Birdman, and hopefully the future Mrs. Birdman will come in and rub my back.
Please be safe my children,