Baboon Pirates

Scribbles and Scrawls from an unrepentant swashbuckling primate.

My Photo
Location: Texas, United States

Friday, May 25, 2007

Things Had Better Start Improving...

And I Mean Right F#(%!*& Now!!

Jeebus H. Christ's crunchy little corn fritters...

I am about at my wit's end, patience-wise. For a sawbuck and half a pack of gum I'd be willing to crawl in my closet and hibernate for the next 3 weeks. And I don't even chew gum...

Where to begin...

Thursday saw a fun phone message from an old friend. "Hi, I'm in XXXX hospital. OK, TTYL. Bye." Not a good scenario, but it could've been a lot worse. A google search on the hospital and some phone tag finally got me to his room. This was actually the high point of the next 24 hours.

Following work, I went and got some dinner, then subjected myself to the Sleep Study Clinic for my sleep apnea. My luck being what it is, the hottie Latina medtech was off last night, and I got the Pakistani equivalent of Mr. Magoo. Nothing against his skills or patient rapport, he was great. He just wasn't the hottie Latina medtech. I mean, hey, if you have to get wires and straps and harnesses plastered all over your body, you might as well imagine some erotic fantasies while you're at it.

The actual sleep study was brutal. You're wired up like an old Bell System switchboard on Mother's Day, and you can't really move once you lay down. This was Night 2, where they put the CPAP mask on your face. Since I was still congested with all this sinus crap, I couldn't do the nose-only mask, and had to do the full-face version.

I was dealing with it fairly well until Magoonistani started jacking with the pressure settings, and I was having trouble exhaling. See, part of breathing is not just sucking air in, but being able to get rid of the last breath, too. I felt like I was being smothered, and I was about two shakes from a full-blown panic attack when I finally said "Hell with this noise" and pulled off the mask. It took about half an hour of adjusting the mask and the pressure levels before I could deal with it again.

I woke some time later with my mouth being blown open. The pressure had been run up to max levels, and it was like having a tornado funneled into your beak. This also dessicates your airways, and you get the horrible crusty boogers by the square yard.

I finally called it quits about 5 a.m., and bid my adieu to Mr. Magoo. I went home for a shower, since you're liberally coated in sticky conductive paste from all the sensor contacts.

I tried sleeping, but either sinuses or ringing phones called a halt to that idea. Somewhere there's a sensor hidden in my room measuring brain waves, and only when I'm just about to fall off to sleep will the phone ring. Four Effin' times this morning that happened. I counted...

I dug around in the medicine cabinet and found a 10 year old bottle of Vick's Vapo-Rub, and plastered a fistful of it on my chest. I pulled on an old cruddy Tshirt and pulled the neck up over my nose. That seemed to cut the crud PDQ, and I got a couple of hours sleep.

I went out about 3 pm for an oil change, and to get some gifties for my hosts tomorrow. I was halfway to the cigar store when I got caught in a serious traffic jam on Gessner just north of Briar Forest. Wasn't nobody moving. Then, a huge sneeze occurred, followed by the joyous sight of dripping claret. Oh, effin' great. Trapped in a traffic jam with a nosebleed!

Fortunately I had a big stack of paper napkins, and kept things from getting too gory until I could detour back over to the Beltway and get home. So, sorry, Dash. No smokos for you this trip.

I got some other goodies for my hosts, but I'm afraid they won't seem that funny to anyone other than me. My absurdist sense of humor doesn't always translate. We shall see.

OK, off to put my skivvies in the laundry. Never go to a pig roast without clean skivvies on, I always say!

Maybe a post Sunday after the Indy 500. Hang loose 'til then!