So here's a fun story. Yesterday, my folks are at my aunts house spending some quality time with them (my aunt is my mom's twin sister), so I take the opportunity to get my oil changed, cut the hedges, mow the lawn, - you know, the usual suburban domestic afternoon-killers.
I take a break, grab a bottle of water, and sit down. Then I stand up.... and then it all gets a little fuzzy. Blinding, searing pain down my back, and I drop to my knees. Tears are in my eyes. I think to myself in a panic, "Jesus - I can't stand up. I can't move." Eventually, I crawl (slowly) into the study and make an aborted attempt to get on my couch that results in looking like a giant, crying man humping a piece of furtniture. Hey, I was suffering, no reason you should make it unscathed. That image is for you, special. I crawl over to my phone, collapse onto the floor gasping for air, and call Mrs. TK. at work. I'm in so much pain I can't even make the easy "I've fallen and I can't get up!" joke.
Mrs. TK rushes home and using some sort of She-Hulk-like strength, gets me standing again helps me upstairs. Considering I outweigh her by a minimum of 80 pounds and stand 11 inches taller, that's pretty damn impressive. I spend the rest of the day in bed, basically gasping in pain every time I twitch. It took me ten minutes to walk to and from the bathroom. Finally, at 4:00AM this morning, conditions have not only not improved, they've worsened to the point where I'm simply lying there twitching, wracked in pain, babbling "fuck, fuck, fuck!!" over and over. So, as was most likely inevitable, we go to the Emergency Room.
I have to admit, this was one of the better ER visits I've had. As you can perhaps guess from posts such as these, I've had my fair share of ER experiences, so I feel I'm qualified to expound on that. The people were polite and even friendly, the service was relatively fast. They gave me two shots for the pain within 45 minutes of being there, which were absolutely lovely. Eventually I had an MRI and... drumroll... I appear to have some disc problems. Of the bulging/tearing variety. Which is not good. So now I gotta meet with my regular doc and discuss the next steps. That should be interesting, since I've been trying to persuade to my doc for months that there's something wrong and he just keeps telling me to take Advil and rest a lot. Thanks, doc. No, really, that was super helpful, dickface. Irregahdless, those options range from physical therapy, up to and possibly including surgical repair.
Anyway, the parents are in NYC visiting my sister - a trip I was supposed to join them on before I decided to method act my way into the lead in My Left Foot. Their trip has been wonderful, and hopefully I'm back and mobile when they get back in a week. I already feel better, but that might be the Percocet talking.
It bears mentioning that despite being at work both yesterday and today, Mrs. TK has once again proven herself a rockstar by caring for me, bringing me things and generally being superwife. In addition, in the midst of all my baby-like whining, Animal Control raided a house a couple of towns over and found between 70 and 90 dogs and puppies locked in a basement, covered in their own feces, malnourished and generally in bad shape. Read about it here or here (warning - pictures may cause terminal sadness) if you're brave. They brought 11 of them to her hospital where she's spent the last two days shaving them down, cleaning them up, fixing their ouchies and then crawling into their cages to snuggle with them and make them feel better. Have I mentioned the superwife Superwoman* thing?
How was your day?
*excellent point, Kelsi
Update: I just realized what a bummer this post was, so to make up for it, a picture of happy dogs should help.
Listen. My dad cam an awfully long way to visit me. He hasn't watched a basketball game in 10 years. We haven't had good father-son bonding time in years either. So could you do me a favor and not, you know, suck? That'd be super.
ps - My parents? Here at my house? The greatest thing in the history of great things. For real. More to follow.
-My parents get here on Saturday. SATURDAY, PEOPLE. I'm a mess right now. I can't sleep, can't work, can't really do anything except bounce in my seat in anticipation. Thank God the Celtics are on tonight to distract me. Meanwhile, Mrs. TK has been cleaning the house within an inch of its life all week (I know that doesn't make sense. You want good grammar, start your own damn blog). She's like a lemon and bleach scented dervish. I think our house is the cleanest it's been since it was built. Of course, I have been doing little except for working outside and cooking dinner, because apparently I'd either just be in the way, or I "wouldn't do it right." I suppose I can't complain. On the subject of parents, I also wrote this.
-Work is an absolute madhouse right now. Summer's always super crazypants in my line o' work, so the rush is officially on. Thankfully, I'm off next week.
-I saw The Black Keys last Saturday. Holy freaking Hell. I'd never have guessed that two guys could generate that kind of energy. They're a blues/rock duo, just a drummer and guitarist/vocalist, and they fucking rocked my face off. Their new album is called Attack and Release, and I cannot recommend it highly enough.
-Folks in tattoo nation: I need your help. I got to work today and realized that the pants I'm wearing are basically ruined - stains on the knee/thigh from where I leaned my arm there after my last session. I'm using A & D ointment and it apparently stains like a motherfucker. Actually, this leads to an interesting story...
I'm in the midst of contract negotiations with one of our unions at work. So we're at a negotiation meeting, and I'm wearing short sleeves (usually, I try to wear long sleeves for meetings, but I'd forgotten this day). Anyway, one of our maintenance guys who is on the negotiating team for the union is getting coffee at the same time as me, and sees the new ink. And...
Him: Hey, nice tat man. TK: Oh, thanks. It's still in progress, I still have two or three sessions to go I think. Him: Sweet. Hey, what are you using for the aftercare? TK: Ah, A & D, then just Lubriderm after the first few days. Him: You should try Bag Balm. I got a mess of tats, that's what I've always used, it works awesome. TK: Bag Balm? Him: Yeah. It's what farmers use on cow's tits.
We both turn around to take our seats, and see 10 people - my boss, lawyers, etc... in complete stunned silence. It was one of the more interesting meetings. Not quite as bad as the great gangbang incident of 2007, but...
Anyway. My next session is the day after my parents leave, which will most likely be devastatingly depressing. I'm calling it tattoo therapy.
-New review up at Pajiba, for perhaps the best "Giant Crocodile Terrorizes a Small Maine Town" movie ever made, Lake Placid.
That's basically it. I'll probably be off the grid for much of next week - I'll check email pretty regularly, but posting is unlikely. So you all have a splendiferous weekend and week, OK?
So last week I'm ordering something on Amazon, and it tells me that I'm one cent shy of getting free shipping. So, of course, I immediately add Grand Theft Auto IV, because I'm a giant geek with too much spare time on my hands and a poor impulse control.
However, I firmly believe that Grand Theft Auto saves lives. At least, it does in my case. Just think about it - the ability to go on violent rampages, smash your car into buildings or drive it off of bridges - it just prevents me from cracking up and doing it in real life.
This is why I don't like public transportation - I always feel like I'm one jostled elbow or stepped-on foot away from one of those moments:
"... I'll kill you all"
You know what? I'm going to stop there. I... I may have said too much.
Regardless, it arrives today. Let the mayhem commence.
Also, the strip above comes from A Softer World. If you're not reading regularly, you are missing out on some the best dark humor on the internet.
1) Conversation I had, after a long, rough day at work last week, at Whole Foods. I am gazing helplessly at the 800 different kinds of bread. An employee walks up to me:
Whole Foods Girl: Can I help you find something? TK: I can't figure out what kind of bread to get. WFG: What kind are you looking for? TK: [angry, dead-eyed stare] WFG: Um... I meant... um... TK: I just need a loaf of bread WFG: Well, this one has some really good rosemary accents! If you like something more with more grain, this one- TK: STOP. Just... stop. Please... right now, without thinking, just pick one. [she picks one, hands it to me meekly] TK: Thank you. Have a lovely evening.
Sometimes, I don't need a fucking dissertation. I just need a goddamn loaf of bread.
2) I'm slooooowly coming out of the blog closet. There are now officially two people, in addition to Mrs. TK, who know of my plan for world domination the existence of this site. Yikes. Yikes, I say.
3) In case you're interested, here is my review of Twin Peaks, Season One, for Pajiba's series, "The Best 15 Seasons of the Past 20 Years." Twin Peaks is one of my top five TV shows ever, so hope you enjoy the review. And if you don't, I hate you and hope you fall down a well.
4) My parents arrive on the 23rd. ON MAY 23RD, PEOPLE. I haven't seen them since March of 2006. They haven't been to the U.S. since 1998. To say that I'm excited is probably one of the great understatements of this century.