Tuesday, August 17, 2010

Medicine Hat

So, I'm going to Medicine Hat. My cousin is getting married. I have to wear really painful shoes and I'm guessing I'll be standing up a lot, so I can't imagine I'll have much fun.

Meh. I just had to go chase away stoned and/or drunk teenagers from my front yard where they were screaming my sisters name at the top of their lungs. Did I mention its like 3am? Ya. I opened my front door and yelled that my sister wasn't home and to go the f*** away. I never swear except to my sisters friends, because otherwise they don't take me seriously.

Anyways. I'm going to Medicine Hat. It's going to suck, as far as I can tell. My dad has been telling stories about how sick I was and how much pain I was in and whatever, so everyone will be asking me how I am and stuff.
The thing is, I like telling people about when I was in the hospital. Its a good story.

I got to the hospital, and they took me to the OR, and they tried to put me to sleep. The doctors and nurses were trying to make me feel safe or whatever, and they were talking about how the gas mask smells like Canadian Tire, so I decided to tell them I got mt favorite pair of shoes there.
That made them think the drugs were working, I guess.
After a while, I was still awake. It took them forever to make me go under.
When I woke up, they hadn't given me any pain meds yet.
I woke up with three breaks in each foot. My tendons had been cut and moved.
It was unimaginable pain.
The nurse gave me eight shots of morphine before she finally called the doctor to ask him to give me a shot of ketemine.
That made me pass out.
I woke up not long after, and I was finally hooked up to an IV, and was getting Morphine and Ketemine and I was still in pain but it wasn't unbearable.
The ketemine made me hallucinate. For some reason I started seeing characters from the tv show Heroes in my hospital room.
I kept talking to them, with confused the actual people in the room.
And I kept lifting up my right arm and holding it in front of me.
I was like that for three days. I didn't eat or drink or move.
I finally woke up, and I realized I must have gone through withdrawal from caffeine, which I was happy about.
Then my mom passed me a coke, because she wanted me to drink something.
And she brought me pizza, and Asian food, and like a whole bunch of awesome takeout food that we never get.
And she choose then to get it, when I couldn't eat.

See? I enjoy telling that story. I like that story. Answering 'How are you? Are you feeling okay?'
Not so much.

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