small brush shouldn't fuck with big timber

Death's Door, the view from the Spanish announcers table: <strong>Here's why my stinkin ass hasn't been around for the past few days. </strong>

Thursday, December 11

Here's why my stinkin ass hasn't been around for the past few days.

Let’s see, where was I before the lights went out? Oh yeah, Saturday night me and Mito went down to the El Torreon Ballroom to check out the “Phony Jam”. This was a show where shit loads of local musician’s were doing nothing but metal covers. It was my first time in the El Torreon and I really felt right at home cause it reminded me of some of the punk clubs I used to frequent back in the day. It was an all age’s show but one side of the club was caged off where a cat of proper age could go a have a highball or two or three whenever the urge was felt. So after Mito gave me the short bus tour we went and settled into the cage for the show. I had to admit I felt like a rockstar being that I had Mito with me and people were coming up to me all during the show introducing themselves cause they recognized me as the humble author of this equally humble website. So I got to meet a lot of reader’s which was so cool along with a lot of good music. Plus how cooler can it get watching some cat all tattooed out rocking up on stage, grinning from ear to ear cause his loudest fan was his ten year old daughter who was standing in front of the stage watching Dad get his metal on. Sometimes shit just don’t get better then that. I got home just after midnight or so and after checking my mail and shit I went to bed and that’s when shit started going south.

After laying down I started feeling a slight pain in my chest which started growing bigger and bigger. Fuck! Fuck! And Fuck! I got up and took a couple of aspirin to see if that helped, which it did for a short bit then the pain came back again. Then I took a Nitroglycerin tablet to see if that would put me in check. But after a few minutes I knew it was a lost cause so I threw some clothes on and drove the few blocks to the emergency room. I walked in and the chick behind the desk asked if she could help me. “Yeah, I might be having a heart attack”? So off to the back they rushed me for a closer look see. By now it was around three on a Sunday morning and here I was, laying on a bed in the ER getting all hooked up to the monitors and shit. Funniest thing? By now I was completely pain free, but they told me to shit the fuck up and get checked out anyway. I didn’t feel like it was such a big deal that I needed to wake my mother or sister, cause all they’d do would be to get up and rush down and stare at me, so I called Michelle instead and left a message on her cell just to let someone know I was in there.

Now doctor’s just don’t take your word that your ass is having a heart attack, they go thru certain steps that will either give em a yes or no. The first thing they do is try to stop the pain cause as long as there’s pain, there’s damage being done to the heart. They also start drawing blood to be analyzed, cause during a heart attack there’s certain enzymes in the blood that will elevate over a period of time. So they draw blood when you first get there, then every few hour’s after that till they determine what the fuck’s up. By now it was ninish or so and Michelle was with me. I was so glad to see her but I was a bit concerned cause she seemed to be taking it all in stride, and I knew how my girl gets when shit upsets her. For a while we were engrossed in my pulse rate monitor cause we couldn’t stop staring at it. She came up with the great idea that she should put it on her finger and do jumping jacks and shit to get her pulse up then put it back on my finger before the medics came running back in. But after some thought we decided to nix that idea because we didn’t want to start no trouble. Plus no telling what the sight of her jumping up and down might do to me. (oh, highlight the above sentence for later reference, you’ll see why later) The doc’s informed me that I was showing a slight elevation in my blood enzymes so I might as well expect on staying a while, but that I’d have to wait to get a room because with the flu epidemic we were going thru here in town, all the beds in the hospital were full.

Around noonish they came and rolled me up to my room. Hey, you know what the worst part is about staying in the hospital? It’s when muthafucker’s come to draw blood. I’m very hard to get blood out of; either my skins to tough or they can’t find the proper vein and shit. So as a result they end up stickin me more then they should or once they get the fuckin needle in they actually start moving it around which hurts like a cocksucker getting raped. I just lay there hoping they get it over with but it was sure pissing Michelle off. But another fun part came when they wanted to administer some blood thinners, which, and you’ll love this, had to be taken thru the stomach. Yeah, muthafucker’s had two hypo’s full if shit that they stuck into my stomach near the belly button. “Mr. Beck, this might sting a bit and you might feel a burning sensation”. “Really! You fuckin think”? I also found out that my girl Michelle is squeamish and shit, cause every time they stuck me she had to leave the room until they were done. Poor baby, do you know she stayed with me until I was fell asleep which was almost midnight? Now the next morning I was to go to surgery to see what my heart looked like which I wasn’t lookin forward too one fuckin bit. And don’t even get me started on having to shave my own groin.

The reason for that was because that’s where the doc inserts the tubes into the main artery to insert dye to take pictures of my arteries and heart and shit. So there I am nekked to the world lying on the operating table with more hands then I can keep track of poking around big Willie and the twins. Now they keep you awake during this procedure so as to let em know if something’s fucking up. And for some reason I was a talkin muthafucker, especially when the probe slipped and hit a bundle of nerves a couple of times. “OH-MY-GOD that hurt. That was the most interesting pain I’ve ever felt in my life. Please don’t let it happen again. Thank you”. Another moment of interest came when they informed me that it was three years to the day since I was last on their table. “Hmmm, maybe I should’a paid for the longer warranty”?

But after a while it was all over and they dragged me back to my room where my sister was waiting on me. By that time I was in a really crabby mood cause after all that they still wanted to stick more needles into me. Michelle had just walked in and I think my sister was glad to turn my crabby ass over to her and get out. One of the post op things about the procedure was that I had to lie flat on my back for six hours or so until the artery had healed over enough to allow movement. I can’t even begin to express how much that sucked, especially when they brought me my fuckin dinner. But once again my girl Michelle was there to save me from starvation or embarrassment. She told me that I don’t need to be moving and that she was gonna feed me. The best part came when my young Black male nurse came walkin in to check on me and there was Michelle sitting next to my bed lookin all hot and shit cutting up my food and hand feeding it to me. The look on his face was priceless. The second part was when more nurses’ came in because my heart rate and pulse were climbing up the wall. But after looking at Michelle and the look on my face they figured what was up and left us alone. (now you can refer back to the third paragraph about what she does to me) Anyway, I was released a couple of day’s later and they figured out that I didn’t have a heart attack. I just need to slow down a bit and keep up on my medications and shit and stop being such a fuckin slackard.

And I just want to say thank you to Michelle because she stayed with me from the beginning to the end even though she wasn’t feeling the best herself. I love her so much and really feel like I’m a better person because she’s in my life. Thank you.

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