124: Sweetness Follows

Just finished an amazing weekend's worth of shows and a whole helluva lot of driving. I had to drive straight from Detroit to work this morning in Chicago. Got up at 4:30 am just to be safe. (Got to bed at 11 pm.) I ended up there an hour early, but i had a lot to attend to, so that was fine. Turning in early tonight and then tomorrow, I'm aiming right for that impending PTD and i'm going to smack it down like a domino. I'm only assuming. I don't remember ever playing dominos.

But where was i? Oh yes... in the operating room. They have me wrapped up in tight warm blankets. Mummified. To be honest, it felt pretty great... plus the sedative was kicking in. They drop a hefty amount of anesthetic into my eye, drape over my face and shield up my eyes and they get to work... The reason I couldn't be totally under is simple. I would have to be conscious to follow simple intructions of the surgeon. Look left, look up, etc. It didn't matter really. All i felt was pressure. And all I heard was... Bryan Adams. Did you know that they have soothing music playing in there? Like a Lite FM station. And when the procedure began, Bryan was asking everyone in attendance if they had really really ever, really ever loved a woman.

Since I was awake and totally high, i thought i'd make a joke. "Now I'm really going to hate this song... even more than i already do." Everyone in the room spoke up at once and there must have been about 6 people in there. "Oh sorry, do you want us to change it? We can change it. Let's change it." I replied, "No no no, it's fine. Worry about the matter at hand, please!" And so Bryan played on. And after the song was over there was a long pause... and then...

I'd Rather Be Wine Drunk?

That's the honest truth. I remember telling one of the nurses earlier in friendly conversation about the shows I had coming up and would i be ok and yadda yadda. She asked the name of the band and i told her. So right there in the OR, they went to this very website, downloaded the song, and played it! Now i was embarrassed, high, and being cut up in the old opticals. Not the best way to be. And to make matters worse, the next song they played was my goofy cover of "Wish You Were Here!" Now I was really embarrassed, but in a strange way, I was having fun. Everyone was talking and it was almost like a dinner party or something. They even went to the Threadless site to check out the shirts.

The whole thing took less than a half an hour and i was a complete champ. That is... until they rolled me into the recovery room. I immediately had the most sour stomach imaginable and i started sweating and squirming. I was going to, well, you know. I said matter-of-factly, "um, nurse, i have to say, i'm feeling a tad bit nauseous." I must have looked terrible because they pumped some drug into my iv and gave me some oxygen and then... it passed...

A week and a day later, i'm fine. It's healing up real nice. The redness, the swelling, the bruising... all gone. However, no one is sure what it actually was. We joked at work. What if it was just a potato chip or something? Well, i have to go back on Friday for the result, so i'll be sure to get back to you if any snack food was involved.

123: Sweet Deals On Surgery

Two days after the big cut-up and i'm feeling pretty swell. Not feeling pretty, that's for sure. My right eye is half red and the corner is black with caked blood. There are a few black and blue zig zags hanging out over there as well. I see fine, yet the area is still super sore. So much so that I have to anoint the area 3 times a day with thick viscous ointment. Mmm. Sorry to make this post so stomach churning and visceral. It may or may not get worse as I detail the intimate goings on of Monday, February 20. Won't you join me? I take you now to a waiting room at Northwestern Memorial Hospital.

They call my name. Actually because of privacy purposes or something or other, they call my case number. I am number 9. Number 9. Number 9. How are you? Let's go to room number 5. 9 to 5. Before I go any further, I feel like I have to reassure any readers that the nurses and doctors were very kind and personable. This was no Gattaca-like robot world. Number 9, sign here, scan this, etc... So I am instructed to undress to the birthday suit and hop in the stylish hospital garb, which by the way took me about 10 minutes to figure out how to tie.

Hop into the steel framed narrow bed and asked a battery of questions. Any allergies? Smoke? Drink? Vitals checked. Blood pressure, pulse, ok. Insert IV into the "whopper" of the right hand vein. Her words, not mine. Hello anesthesist. Small talk, more questions, her sons are Threadless fanatics. (Well well, maybe if you give me an extra shot or two of your numbing bubbles, i can hook you up with a Communist Party or two.) I am told I will not be totally under. I'll just be heavily sedated through the IV and then i'll be given numbing drops into the eye before the procedure. They put a temporary tattoo over my right eye as an "x marks the spot." Temporary my achin aunt fanny, it's still there. I sign two sheets on clipboards. The doctor signs my eye. The anesthesist pumps in a "margarita" and i'm rolling into the OR.

(to be continued)

122: Spiraling

I hate it when this happens, but it always does. LIke clockwork. And usually after tour. You succumb to that urge to hide to avoid any kind of contact. That includes avoiding email / phone calls... and once the spell lifts, it's catch up time. You learn to play the game that you've been dealt. You ride that wave out and swim back. You just keep throwing out endless analogies to amuse only yourself. Ahh, i'm only slightly amused.

It's early, but 13+God is pumping and it's working. I have a crazy two weeks coming up. I leave work early tomorrow for a show in Iowa City. I leave work early on Friday for a show in St. Louis. I will be part of the "Win a Date With Threadless" extravaganza on Saturday night. Sunday night I will eat the greatest dinner of my life. Monday, i will be fed anesthetics through an iv while highly qualified physicians poke needles around my right eye. Tuesday, I recover. I lay in bed with nothing to do but complain to my girlfriend and play Ape Escape 3. Wednesday, I work. Thursday, an early post-op appointment and then I hightail it to Cleveland for the first of 4 shows. Only 13+God knows how awful i'll look that weekend.

Coffee.

121: The Earlybird

It's early. Real early. And yep, i'm at work again, printing out return forms. Sleepily rocking out to Rogue Wave. Gotta thank McHank for turning them way up. They've always been turned on a little. Now they are turned up. The best tracks are on the newest iTunes ep. Better versions of old songs, plus a cover of U2's "Seconds." Never heard the original...

There is a reason today for the earlybird. I needed to drop off the ride and then take the L downtown to the hospital for another in the rapid succession of February visits. This trip will lead me through a pre-op briefing whereupon they will outline in great detail the ways in which they will inflict emotional and physical pain upon me. And then I need to get another round of bloodwork. Awesome! More needles!

I had pre-load the van last night because straight from work, i'm headed up to Northwestern University's Norris Center for a City On Film show with The Wrens. I really think you should go.

120: I Think Of These Things

Sometimes I feel like my mind moves too fast for my body, hence i'm always forgetting stuff. I'm here early at work again. Feeling great, but i had to sacrifice my evening. By 8:30, i was exhausted. Even after my dinner of Special K With Red Berries. And soymilk. Funny thing. You know how you're supposed to shake up the soymilk before you open it... to i dunno, evenly distribute the soy power or something? Well, in a senior moment, as only i can call it, before dumping it on the K, I shook the damn thing with tremendous force... while the cap was off. Thus, evenly distributing soy power over the kitchen walls & floor, and also giving a good soy wash to my hoodie, face, and hair.

And being at work, i have to mention that The Communist Party shirt is well on its way to becoming the biggest fastest selling shirt round these parts. I thought it was pretty good. I maybe gave it a 3 or a 4. I'd wear it, but it's nothing to tap a bitchin keg for.

My co-workers and I have come up with a better shirt: The Communist Pet Store, where you can purchase such housepets at Chairman Meow, Mouse-alini (technically not a Communist, i know. You fucking bastard.), Fidel Catstro, and my personal favorite, Karl Barx.

119: Post Tour Depression Part 75

I have pinpointed the problem. Why didn't i realize it sooner? I've been in a rampant funk for the past few days and now I know why. Post tour depression. It hits hard and takes no prisoners. (Remember that band Rampant Funk? From Utah?) Now that we know the malady, we can get on with the treatment... Getting to work early? Surprisingly refreshing. Of course, this assumes you enjoy your job as much as i do. It may not even be the job itself but rather the management of an obstacle that you can handle... alone. Get here, pop on 13+God or Rogue Wave and start printing orders. Dance over to the coffeemaker. Dance back. Burn hands.

Once I get things in order, unpack, calm down...

118: Start Me Up

Wow, that's some psychic ability if i ever saw it. Predicted the score, but for the wrong teams. Deep in my heart of hearts I knew Pittsburgh was going to win, but deep in my heart of hearts i root for the underdog and deep in my heart of hearts i really didn't care who won. I'm sorta glad that the Bears didn't make it because then i'd have to pay too much attention to the TV screen during a fun food & drink filled party. And besides, there is ping pong to be played. I split a 4 game series with my boss and i can't help but feel like ping pong performance has become an important part of my job.

I'll talk more tonight. Everything is in slow motion at the moment.

117: Seattle 21, Pittsburgh 10

That is my prediction. I'll be enjoying the game at a hot party in Chicago. I am now in Detroit and it's snowing so i better get a move on.

116: She Might Be In Tangier

Hey hey hey. While driving alone for the last half of the tour and listening to an obscene amount of Bob Dylan, I thought it would be a neat idea to videotape a cover of a song using my hot new digital camcam... Every verse in a different location! So without any further ado:

"If You See Her, Say Hello"


MOV: Verse #1: Mountains, just west of San Diego, CA


MOV: Verse #2: Beach, just south of San Juan Capistrano, CA


MOV: Verse #3: Desert, just east of Yuma, AZ


MOV: Verse #4: Forest, just north of Flagstaff, AZ


MOV: Verse #5: Knitting Factory, LA. Nice framework, huh?


I twisted my back so bad today... Possibly during a heavy lift. Possibly a complication from the awkward position I had to maintain as I lay on the platform which plunged me headfirst into the enormous cat scan donut while hot dye was pulsing through my veins.