Archive for February, 2008
going viral »
Friday, February 8th, 2008
I mentioned my trip to the medical establishment in the last post. Last night was the first time I’ve been to a doctor in recent memory that didn’t involve some rush surgery or near-fatal incident. It was sort of nice in a way. The clinic is close and didn’t smell of rotting flesh, so I figure that’s as good a sign as any. I handed over my insurance card, relayed symptoms and the like though I’m sure I’ll be charged too much for incorrect something-or-other and had a seat for just under three minutes before my name was called. If it would have taken five, I’d have been pissed; there was no one else waiting.
With a quick set of questions any fever? congestion? wheezing? symptoms of leprosy? the ilk and a few deep breaths with a stethoscope next to my lungs, she seemed poised to drop the diagnosis bomb. She sat back at her mini-desk, took a look at her notes, and looked back at me, chilling on the paper-wrapped examination table.
She said, grimly, that my lungs were laced with pollutants, and they could only save one and that was if they acted immediately. I was whisked away by gurney to the operating room oddly placed directly opposite the waiting room of urgent care. They, with no time for anesthetics, cut between my ribs, sliced out my left lung with tiny scissors attached to flexible arms, and brought the lung, still reflexively expanding and contracting, down into a tray next to me. All while I watched, horrified.
Well, that’s what I thought would happen. I’ve been dry hacking for four days without significant improvement. In reality, her diagnosis and the events that followed were slightly less dramatic. I, in her expert opinion as a trained medical professional, have a cough. A cough. To be more specific, a viral cough. Which, basically, means I’ll be hacking for another five to seven days sans-cure. My treatment involves prescription codeine-laced robitussin before bed and over-the-counter non-drowsy cough suppressant during the day.
She gave me a slip, with a code, and sent me out to the waiting room to their ’Insty-med’ machine. This thing is badass. No more talking to some over-educated drug dealer. Just use a touch-screen, navigate through the simplified steps, input said code, and the medications are verified, labeled, and dispensed like a twenty-ounce Coke all under the not-so-watchful eye of the one-armed sexagenarian security guard. I, admittedly, should have seen this coming because I haven’t been to a clinic since high school, but still, what won’t they think of? Awesome.
I was in and out within an hour in possession of some heavy cough-killer. I chilled with the s.o. for the rest of the night and dosed myself at “bedtime” as prescribed. No joke; when did “bedtime” become professional? how about “before bed?” I felt like I was in fourth grade; it could just be me. What I didn’t know and am now all too aware of is that codeine seems to affect my subconscious like hallucinogens would my conscious. I had some twisted dreams.
The only one I remember because it came just before I awoke for the third or fourth time involved some sort of hotel tryst with some face-less attractive woman. It was so real I felt guilty when I woke up. I have some pretty tweaked dreams without the help of opiates like truck-towed snowboarding through yard ditches (think, wake-boarding over driveways) to a Fergie-less Black Eyed Peas concert, set in the side of a snow-covered hill, but that was ridiculous. I’m pretty stoked for tonight.
in shape; rough shape »
Thursday, February 7th, 2008
I came home early on Monday with a hacking occasional cough. It’s now a frequent hacking that has my throat and lungs feeling like I’ve been sucking dryer exhaust for two days. If you’ve been camping, you can visualize the overused, mostly-brown mantles of an old lantern. My lungs probably look more like those than the healthy lungs sitting next to smokers’ lungs at the museums if we had technology just now for such top-notch imagery. I’m also pretty sure large chunks of my throat are packing suitcases. I’m blessed with a general ookiness that only comes from a duel with the sickness.
I’ve thus far attempted to avoid reflective surfaces, but I know I’m in rough shape. I’m probably sallow or pale even more than usual, so basically transparent. The hair on the scalp is working on just over a week of growth. I haven’t trimmed the facial folicles in quite awhile. I think my beard probably resembles that of a neanderthalic high-schooler. You’d probably agree if you had the misfortune of getting close enough. I likely have the odor of a two-week-old zombie. Movies never seem to go into much detail about that; aim for the head people!
I don’t handle sickness well. I never really have. I don’t get sick often, so I don’t have the juices, vitamins, medications, or patience that ease the transition from knocked-on-ass back to vibrant, handsome, charming member of society. Considering these facts, the last few days in my mobile office have been impressive piles of dull.
Tuesday, I was all up in the Super Tuesday coverage. It started out with a pointed solute to Obama courtesy Andrew Shue that Melrose Place guy, so at least things couldn’t get worse. I watched for almost the entire day and still have no idea what the candidates stand for. Thank you, hard-hitting media.
Yesterday, girlfriend came by with some sickness relief supplies. She brought juice orange tangerine is delicious, soup kids chicken noodle, but still, soup, and apple leather. Ever had any fruit leathers? Really? Well you’ll have to trust me then, when I say it tasted like leather dipped in apple juice. The name was fitting. I downed a couple calcium tablets and the soup whilst I worked on a site I’m helping her with. Very classy stuff.
I woke up this morning, mid-cough at about one in the morning, so I decided to call up the clinic. They didn’t have any appointments open best health care in the world so I’m wandering down there for urgent care. I hate doctors. They are a necessary evil like taxes, shit movies on cable, and Kansas, but I like to limit my contact.
There is one thing that shines bright out of this puddle of bacterium-filled darkness: tons of everyday italian. See how I’m working on the optimism?
Now it’s off to wash this zombie-stink off.
thoughts on: an omelet »
Sunday, February 3rd, 2008
While I sit here watching house and fighting my brunch, omelets came to mind. The delicate balance of beaten egg and filling is a tough dish to pull off says a guy who can’t. Finding an all-star example is key to quasi-drunk hangover relief. I’m a big fan. For instance, the omelets at Sunnyside Up Café are good like the Rolling Stones are decent. Perkin’s drops in with a pitiful omelet offering, but get points for surrounding it with breakfast potatoes and a buttermilk short-stack.
My attempts fall short or thin in this case. An omelet should have thick eggs wrapped completely around a hearty helping of meat and cheese. Its simplicity makes it so difficult. Like a burger or sandwich, the art is in the preparation. This brings me to my gurgling, uneasy guts.
The uptown bar, off Hennepin and Lake, is a sweet joint. The atmosphere is unlike any others in the neighborhood. The choch goes elsewhere, apparently. Girlfriend and I took a trip over there to check into their all-day breakfast. The experience was mixed in my case. I had the cheese and meat omelet with sausage. She had the number one two eggs over easy, over hashbrowns.
Things started off well. The toast is top-notch light wheat. The butter seems to be dripped on through some sort of squirt bottle, but still, quality. Then I started out on the egg-wrap that held american, swiss, and cheddar cheeses. The sausage came in the form of sliced sausage links. Class. The stuffs on the inside were pretty delicious, but the eggs all four of them were stretched too thin. They tasted rubbery and didn’t have the bounce they should have.
I had to slow down and eventually stop. The sausage links were pretty good and the cheese let’s be honest here: I can never get too much was solid. The eggs, like I said, were mediocre. The combination was too much. I switched over and finished girlfriend’s hashbrowns. Impressive. Under the crispy brown exterior, the internal hash was of the right consistency and lightly seasoned.
I’m not totally off the Uptown Bar. The food I saw passing by me while waiting for a table looked quality. I think next time and considering how close it is to girlfriend’s place of residence, there will be a next time I’ll aim toward the cheddar cheese and ham skillet. Tomorrow night, though, is another visit to the Nook for their $1 burger special. I like eating, I guess is what I’m saying.
Also, thank you Giants for your valiant, victorious effort tonight. Congratulations and kudos.
sweeney todd »
Sunday, February 3rd, 2008
I realize that people are liking this one. I know it’s good in a lot of aspects. I know Depp (fear and loathing, finding neverland) is solid. But, because of a predisposition toward hating everything related to musicals and hating more any remake of a play into film, I can’t say I can get behind this as easily.
The story is simple, but decent. It’s a tale of revenge. It’s epic and gruesome. Depp plays Todd with gusto. He has a decent voice and the songs are at least decent. The pace is slow—more because the songs take so damn long than anything else— and the rest of the cast is mediocre. The graphics are great, and help the story, but I don’t get the hype.
As I said, I hate musicals. I can’t get into them. Depp nailed it and deserves the accolades, but hell, it’s not that impressive. Tim Burton is a demigod and does a great job. It’s visually interesting. You may end up liking this one as much as everyone else. I didn’t. That is all.
american dreams »
Sunday, February 3rd, 2008
I was asked just the other day and probably before, but my memory’s not so good about guest-blogging in a live-blog-type coverage of the R.N.C. here in Minneapolis. I, personally, have been trying to lessen my intake of political coverage. I shut down the political rant blog and pay less attention to the feeds that flood my reader. I try to keep up on things, but being fully aware gave me headaches and annoyed most everyone privileged enough to know me personally.
I’ve never even attempted it before I thought about it for the oscars. I feel like i should practice or something. He’s got a pretty sweet thing going over at S.D.I.F. and i don’t much want to mess it up. If i post lame, the state of Iowa will secede, florida will drown and new york will become a red state quick quiz: which of those is actually bad?. I appreciate that my uncanny talent to have opinions about things i don’t care about has finally been recognized, but it’s a lot of pressure.
I thought I’d re-immerse myself for the sake of the possible co-authorship. I spent some time during my staff-appreciation-induced half-day catching up on my reader. Have any of you other folk been keeping up with things? Things couldn’t be going better.
Americans are smarter with their money than ever before, and our economy is thriving. The “war” is going well in Iraq. Our freedom is at an all-time high. And if we weren’t firing on all awesomeness cylinders already, our media is working hard to push us in the right direction.
A couple things stand out, though. The best candidate for president has left the race and that damn Pat Roberts won’t tell us who will end up winning it. Good thing he redeemed himself by dropping a predict in the way of China finally going Christian look for discount alter candles in a Wal-Mart near you.
Now I can sit here, watching the Superbowl and all the consumerism circle-jerks that come with it, basking in the glow that only social reassurance can provide. Thanks America, keep up the good work. Thompson ’08!! … err, wait.