A few weeks ago, I mentioned my then upcoming Pilonidal Cyst surgery. Well, I've finally had the surgery and am healing normally. My next doctor visit is this coming Monday where I expect he'll say I'm doing fine and can go back to work. I haven't been back to work since May 24. If I could make the same salary by not going to work I would take that job!
I could go into detail about my surgery, what the surgeon did, and my recovery thus far, and I may do that later. For now, since that's been all my life's been about for the last 3 weeks, I'll just share a fun little story that's a subset of what's happened lately.
Years ago, at least 14 years, I had to get my wisdom teeth pulled. When my friends would go in for the procedure, they would talk about getting knocked out and how far backwards they got to count from to. "I got 7! Well I got to 6!" I wondered how far I would get. The time came for me to sit in the chair and get hooked up to an IV, people were wandering around the room and I was getting relaxed, wondering how far back I would manage to count. I'm a big guy, so they would probably have to give me more drugs to knock me out. I'm also a bit of a lightweight when it comes to drugs, since I've never taken anything stronger than Sudafed and don't drink. I got comfortable, blinked, and there was nobody in the room.
It was quiet, how'd it get so quiet? I looked around and saw nobody else. I hesitantly ran my tongue along my inner cheek. Cotton. Dammit! Everything was finished and I hadn't even gotten to start at 10!
14 years later I'm wondering the same thing again. I'm at least 100 lbs heavier and this is going to be a more invasive surgery, so they're going to really knock me out. The anesthesiologist comes into pre-op and asks me a couple of questions (which lead to him deciding that I'll need a breathing tube during surgery as a safety measure, but that's another story). After about 30 minutes I'm wheeled into the OR.
In the OR, the anesthesiologist and nurse anesthetist are talking over some combination of what drug to give me and the anesthetist putting in the breathing tube. There's a mask laying on my face, but only because they needed a place to put it. I'm hooked up to something where I can hear my heartbeat beeping, and I'm definitely alive. Finally it's time to get to business, and the anesthetist holds the mask down with what felt like all 100 lbs of her weight.
With the mask on, the anesthesiologist begins yelling at me. "Ok, breath in! Now, breath out! In!"
This is what I was thinking (as best as I can remember 3 weeks later):
And that was all I remembered before waking up in the recovery room. I guess I can claim that I counted back to 7?
The counter to being such a pushover to anesthesia is that both times (wisdom teeth and cyst) when I woke up I'm pretty alert. Not groggy, I know what's going on and where I am. When Gina met me going into my hospital room she said she was amazed and how well I looked (this is also a counter for how bad she looked when she was last in the hospital). I tried to chalk it up to being a morning person as far as once I wake up, I'm awake.
I guess being anesthetized once every 14 years isn't too bad?
After almost a month I really need to write an update.
I think I may have to set up Widgey Night Leagues.
Last night I ended up having a game night with Rynn & Alex. Thanks to me reposting on Facebook a YouTube video of Wil Wheaton and Colin Ferguson (and 2 others) playing Ticket To Ride, along with a mention that I've had a copy still sitting in the shrinkwrap for a while, they offered to help me un-shrinkwrap it.
I've played the iPad version of the game. Between that and watching the YouTube video I've a pretty good understanding of the rules. With that in hand, I went off to teach & play. The first game was more of a "teaching Rynn how to play" since Alex had also watched the video. At the end of the first game, Alex won with me a couple of points behind, and Rynn wrapping up the end maybe 20 points back. We had enough fun playing that this led to game 2, in which Rynn kicked our asses (Alex was kicked by 30 pts, me by roughly 50). It was amazing how well she did - and there was no taking it easy on her, she just picked up the game that friggin fast.
Afterwards we played Cards Against Humanity, labeled as the crude version of Apple to Apples. I haven't laughed that hard over the course of an hour in years. There's no way to properly describe the game without playing it. You also have to have a minimal appreciation for toilet humor to enjoy the game. At least that's the way these cards played. I must have a great appreciation since I won!
We each ended up winning 1 game and losing 2, but like a proper widgey night it wasn't about winning or losing but about how much fun we ended up having while playing. I like playing games like that. For evergame there has to be a winner, but there also has to be (at least) one loser. There should be at least as much fun losing as winning.
One of my realizations that a game should be fun first came when learning how to play Epic Warhammer 40K back at Research Genetics. Stephen P. LeBeau was fielding an Ork Train. His train was at least 5 cars long. I forget which faction Lee was playing, but while I was learning he decided I could roll his dice. Now the best part of playing any game with Steve is he talks smack constantly. Not annoyingly so, in a way that makes you want to actually kill him, but he keeps things entertaining. Steve's train was barreling down on Lee, so Lee shot some type of cannonball at the oncoming train.
I looked at Steve. "We're shooting you're choo-choo."
"It's not a choo-choo!" bellowed Steve. "You'll never kill my train!"
I rolled a 20 - critical hit.
Lee: A 20! It's a critical hit! [starts to look up a critical hit rule with the cannonball thingy]
Steve: Critical? What?
Russ: Alright! I did good?
Lee: Yes you did. [after reading critical hit rule] The cannonball does maximum damage and continues in a straight line.
Steve: What? So you hit my engine?
Lee: Right. And the rest of the train is lined up behind it, so it continues into the next car.
Russ: So I get to roll again?
Lee: Yep. We're still attacking his choo-choo.
Steve: It's not a choo-choo! It's my Invincible Orc Train!
Russ: [rolls another 20]
Steve: Another? Gah-dammit!
Somehow this continued on until the cannonball went the full length of the train, causing damage and mayhem through out. The best part was once I quit rolling, Steve said "You killed my choo-choo."
At some point [soon] afterward, Epic 40K became more competitive, take more time, and was less fun to play. As such, not only is it not played any longer, I'm not sure if I even have any of the pieces to play packed away for safe keeping - I may have just given it all away. Fun games with the right people are the key. I can't believe it took me that long to figure it out.
This time I wait for 3 weeks before getting around to talking on the interweb again. What's up with that?
I've actually had a couple of personal things happen over the last few weeks, but I think most of it comes across as complaining. I'll share, but keep in mind this isn't supposed to be complaining.
3 weeks ago I finally went to the doctor about a pilonidal cyst. I'll leave out any direct links as this is something you definitely don't want to look at while you're eating. This is a problem that I've had since 1995, and most of the time it will flare up for maybe a week, then lie back dormant for 3-6 months. After Christmas 2010, it has never really gone back to being dormant. My regular doctor told me I'm beyond anything he can do in the office. As such, I eventually ended up talking to a surgeon who's going to cut that puppy out. My surgery is scheduled for May 30 (after the young'uns wedding so that Gina can properly take care of me). I'll leave the rest of this little story for after the procedure is wrapped up.
I've also had my fun with car maintenance. 2 weeks ago I had to replace the left rear blinker. Thanks to YouTube this an easy procedure, the hardest part being buying the replacement bulb ($14 for 2 at NAPA). This past Friday I had a follow up maintenance, as when I left the office I was greeted by a flat left rear tire. Maybe that's what the glass-crashing sound I heard on the way in to work was?
I just noticed both of these things happened to the left rear. What the hell's going on back there?
My flat tire caused me a little of a panic, as I was on Redstone Arsenal on a Friday at 3:00. Normally I would just call a tow truck and get towed to a place of fix it, but I wasn't sure if tow trucks could come on the Arsenal.
Staring at the tire and muttering f-bombs, another lady leaving passed by and said "I think I have a can of Fix A Flat, hold on". She had parked 4 cars over, and she did have a can! I thanked her, attached the can to the flat tire and squeezed as the tire slowly rose. She gave a thumbs up and went back to her car as I kept squeezing.
For some reason I was squeezing as hard as I could, subconsciously thinking I could squeeze more out of the can. In vehicular emergency situations, I become stupid.
The can managed to fill the tire about ⅓, and I didn't think I would get far on it. I opened up the back and started to read the directions for how to put on the spare. I never got past step 1 - removing the jack. For 20 minutes I tried to twist an end on the jack so it would loosen enough to remove from the clamp holding it into the car. I'm Mr Big & Strong, but this time I was Mr Pissed and Fed-Up.
⅓ filled tire be damned, I was getting off the Arsenal. I got in the car, turned on the emergency blinkers, and proceeded to go 30MPH to my normal exit gate. I had my driver side mirror turned down to look at the rear tire, and I was nervous the whole way, but I made it out of the gate and to the Mapco just beyond. My first order of business was a refreshing Coke Zero and a brownie (I had managed a Pop Tart for breakfast and skipped lunch, so I was starving by 3:30). I called the Athens Big 10 Tires/Pep Boys, as that was where I bought my tires 2 months ago. I couldn't remember if I had bought a warranty with them, but regardless I was going to go through them. The guy that answered the phone told me to call 1-800-PEP-BOYS and they would send a wrecker that would take me to the nearest Pep Boys. I called, and an hour later I was being towed to the Madison Big 10 Tires. After 15 minutes, they had plugged the hole in the tire (nothing sticking in it, just a hole). The best part, at least in looking for a silver lining, is that the invoice that totaled up ~$80 only had a $23 charge. It looks like I did get the warranty!
Now I wonder what's going to happen over the next 3 weeks to give me something to talk about?
Despite 2 weeks of silence, I'm both still alive and have plenty going on to keep me busy. Sadly enough, none of the things keeping me busy merits anything interesting to talk about.
Seriously. Mailing in my taxes, collecting paperwork from the new mortgage company I've been sold off to... none of it is interesting enough for outside attention. It's barely interesting enough for my attention.
Sounds like it's time to go do something just so I can post about it.
As always, correct spelling is optional in any blog entry. Keep in mind that any links more than a year old may not be active, especially the ones pointing back to Russellmania (I like to move things around!).
Tags have been added to posts back to 2005. There may be an occasional old blog that gets added to the tag list, but in reality what could be noteworthy from that far back?
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