so i went to the hospital monday morning at 430am screaming like a child from back pain radiating down my leg and pooling in a flaming core at my calf. ace wife stayed home to get the rugrats on to school, they thought i was dying. the joy of sciatic pain. i've been in PT for a month, but i had to ride a quad on saturday which apparently set me back to february. hell i'm justa:
joy. they shot me up with dilaudid and sent me home. ace wife had to drive me since i was incoherent. i left my company car at the hospital to be back in the morning for an mri. i slurred: "PERFETTT! ME TAKE CAB BACK DRIVE COMPANY CAR BACK HOME. PFFDSFJSDIKOGHKL. WE GO NOW! KFC!" we went to kfc. i slumped over in ace wife's ride.
i came to and watched lord of the rings, for 10 minutes. i came to and watched more lord of the rings, for 10 minutes before slumping back down into the heaven that was my bed. i came to to goodnight cuddles. dada gotta bad back! they cried. i came to sometime the next day, tuesday. i immediately gave ace wife the oxy they sent me home with. i said: you leave one of these somewhere in case i have a life or torture situation. you take the rest and you hide them. opiates are just terribly evil, and i've fought this back pain without any meds except the occasional edible and some alleve.
so tuesday, i felt fine. it was very very odd. the fucking cab never showed up. i was standing in the yard like a lost school boy. it was snowing. yes, snowing. heavily, on april 10th. my brothers birthday. ace wife pokes her head out at ten till the MRI (650am) and screams back inside to the kids: get dressed, we're taking daddy to the doctor. aw, fuck i says. fuck a cab.
so she's blazing down the road, in the snow, hair in a pony (which i find very sexy) no shower, no makeup (shame) and two rug rats in the back eating pop tarts. i make it there, 20min late, yeah buddy fuk a cab. i sincerely enjoy the peaceful weirdness of the MRI machine. i don't think about shit. i zone out. i go home in the company car, feel (oddly again) pretty good. i fight the urge to go fishing, and i do work.
today, i get up. i make lunches, coffee, breakfast, get kids dressed, get em out, kiss the ace, never get out of my jammies, do work. i dress in actual clothes, i go to my crack doctor who i love. she goes, you fucked it all up four wheeling. the disc. you can't do that. see? we're finding things you can't do. you need to see a spine guy now. he's my spine guy. he's gonna shoot you up with a shot of cortisone. we're gonna keep PTing. and today your getting acupuncture.
so i strip down. now, hide your sheilas eyes, it don't burn much hotter than my grotesque belly button with a buncha needles sticking out of it, or my hideous hairy pelt of a back in the same fashion, or my face. photos courtesy of ace wife, who must have snickered.....
it was fucking sick. i suddenly love acupuncture. my foot numbness (sciatic) was lesser than it had been in a month.
i felt so good, i took the company car home, but first i went to look at some street art across the street from a local coffee place, middle ground. the town of stafford ct allows graffiti guys to paint here, and display their work. they've got talent, and its better than under a damn bridge, like a troll.
then i did some more work. then, i said fuck it. grabbed a #4 kabuto and a #8 fullflex. several flies. jug of water, one busch beer. it was sunny. felt like 60. they might be out i thought........
company car on point
first the little guys. they around?
swarming around the north bank drop off, like a herd of stupid, like a herd of fun. i am down to fish bluegills on the trout nymphs i fucked up at the vice.
then i tried one of these things out. they swim like you think they would. but i got only lesser sox.
a sturdy deck:
ew. "dogs and geese. that's what i hate" - mr frisbee
the sun had an angle to it. but the afternoon, it drew out longer and longer. it wasn't super cold, but it was chilly. would it be the night over here on these ponds?
i hit up another pond. the owner wasn't home, but i found mike frisbee himself on the driving range.
drank my one beer.
light started falling, frisbee took off to cook a steak. and i heard one. one little song.
and then they all started singing.
"this is what, makes a thing last
won't make what didn't happen go
take fear and call it lust
and let me go lay in the snow
i cannot rest with so many singing
so many songs and what a way of singing
their voices are bringing the trees to their knees
with nothing to say when they're speaking
their quiet, the choir, their voices go higher
the choir, the choir, their voices go higher."
and i drove home stopping at each low place what held any water whatsoever to listen to the song of the peep frogs.
enjoy your catch (it died)