My adventure officially came to an end yesterday, April 21 at 2:45 PM. The journey ended when my alien contraption was activated. Don’t ask how it was activated, because modesty will not permit me to disclose how it was done.
I am now healthy, well as healthy as I will ever be. I am also a cyborg. I have parts inside me that are under warranty. You wouldn’t believe how many replacement parts, or repaired organs I possess. I however don’t want to bore you with the stories behind each cyborgian part.
I am also at a loss; I have run out of adventures to blog about. I really don’t want to blog about my unemployment. There are millions in the same boat as I am. The economy has made the boat overflow.
Without an adventure I am unsure what blog path I should take. Should I retire from blogging? Or should I find a new adventure to undertake? My insurance deductable has been met for the year. I suppose I could choose another organ to adventure about. To my knowledge my kidneys and lungs are virgin territory, and ripe for the picking.
I guess this is where you, my loyal followers come in. What should I do? What should I blog about? I am open for suggestions. I really don’t want to retire from this fine institution of blogging, but unless I come up with some viable topics, I would be dead in the water.
I realize I do perform a public service; I have had more than one hardened criminal sentenced to read my blog. A few have even been scared straight. However, I must admit most have requested to have their sentence reviewed, some even opting for solitary confinement.
I now leave my blog’s future in your capable hands. Suggest a topic. Let me know which organ should I explore next. Where should my next adventure lead us?
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
April 14, 2009
It’s time to finish up my latest adventure, ok not my unemployment adventure, my yucky surgery adventure. My unemployment adventure has not changed.
I believe I had given the general logistics of my impending surgery on our last blog. For those that survived the total grossieousity of that blog, welcome back. I commend you on your eagerness to continue my adventure through to the bitter end.
As far as I know the surgery went together like a hand and glove, total perfection. The alien device was implanted in its required location. Again modesty and protocols of internet blogging prevent me from saying exactly where that location might be. I have however been told as long as the location is presented in pure medical terms I can give a clue. Having never studied medical terms, I am going to improvise. The vital alien implant area is somewhere south of the navel and north of the knees. With that being said, I will move on.
I was awakened from my either induced coma, seems as if the hospital staff has nothing to do but awaken patients. After being transferred to a room where Mrs. Raballard and daughter Raballard was waiting, I discovered there was something extremely wrong. I was in extreme pain. How could that be? Wasn’t I still under the feint spell of the anesthesia? Apparently that was not the case.
Don’t get me wrong, I am not adverse to pain. I have raised teenagers, and have been through two messy divorces. I am no stranger to pain. This pain was different than the rest. I had never felt that kind of pain before. The delicate location of the procedure seemed to magnify the pain. I also knew the tunnel visioned hospital staff would make their own diagnosis to my pain. Pain so soon after major surgery equals automatic hospital stay. Do not pass go.
I kept my pain to myself, well almost to myself. I did tell my recovery nurse, but I told her in a roundabout way. I did not want to alarm her. I simply told her that after my last surgery I was given a steady dose of morphine to help pain. After I assured her I had no pain at all, I was just addicted to after surgery morphine. Her curiosity satisfied, I got one small dose of morphine. With my pain subdued somewhat, I prepared myself to escape the evil hospital confinement.
I am not known for my acting skills, I myself have never acted before. However, I needed the performance of a lifetime to convince the hospital staff I was able to be released. I knew I was in pain, but there was no need to tell everyone. After all I figured it would be better for me to suffer at home, in front of my big screen TV. I would be happier. The last time I checked the pursuit of happiness is one of our inalienable rights. The constitution of these United States gave me the right to suffer where I chose. I chose suffering and crying out in pain in the comforts of Raballard manor.
How did I run out of time? It Look as if you will have to come back to laugh at my pain. I will try to finish my adventure the next time we meet.
To be honest, I have no idea how this adventure ends. I am still on the adventure. They don’t turn on my alien device for another two weeks. That’s right, I said turned on. Scary huh.
I believe I had given the general logistics of my impending surgery on our last blog. For those that survived the total grossieousity of that blog, welcome back. I commend you on your eagerness to continue my adventure through to the bitter end.
As far as I know the surgery went together like a hand and glove, total perfection. The alien device was implanted in its required location. Again modesty and protocols of internet blogging prevent me from saying exactly where that location might be. I have however been told as long as the location is presented in pure medical terms I can give a clue. Having never studied medical terms, I am going to improvise. The vital alien implant area is somewhere south of the navel and north of the knees. With that being said, I will move on.
I was awakened from my either induced coma, seems as if the hospital staff has nothing to do but awaken patients. After being transferred to a room where Mrs. Raballard and daughter Raballard was waiting, I discovered there was something extremely wrong. I was in extreme pain. How could that be? Wasn’t I still under the feint spell of the anesthesia? Apparently that was not the case.
Don’t get me wrong, I am not adverse to pain. I have raised teenagers, and have been through two messy divorces. I am no stranger to pain. This pain was different than the rest. I had never felt that kind of pain before. The delicate location of the procedure seemed to magnify the pain. I also knew the tunnel visioned hospital staff would make their own diagnosis to my pain. Pain so soon after major surgery equals automatic hospital stay. Do not pass go.
I kept my pain to myself, well almost to myself. I did tell my recovery nurse, but I told her in a roundabout way. I did not want to alarm her. I simply told her that after my last surgery I was given a steady dose of morphine to help pain. After I assured her I had no pain at all, I was just addicted to after surgery morphine. Her curiosity satisfied, I got one small dose of morphine. With my pain subdued somewhat, I prepared myself to escape the evil hospital confinement.
I am not known for my acting skills, I myself have never acted before. However, I needed the performance of a lifetime to convince the hospital staff I was able to be released. I knew I was in pain, but there was no need to tell everyone. After all I figured it would be better for me to suffer at home, in front of my big screen TV. I would be happier. The last time I checked the pursuit of happiness is one of our inalienable rights. The constitution of these United States gave me the right to suffer where I chose. I chose suffering and crying out in pain in the comforts of Raballard manor.
How did I run out of time? It Look as if you will have to come back to laugh at my pain. I will try to finish my adventure the next time we meet.
To be honest, I have no idea how this adventure ends. I am still on the adventure. They don’t turn on my alien device for another two weeks. That’s right, I said turned on. Scary huh.
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