Saturday, April 3, 2010

Crisis of Cranium Crackage!!! Part Deux!

So I hope you all enjoyed the first part of Crisis of Cranium Crackage and just as i promised here's part 2 .....

Warjournal: Crisis of Cranium Crackage!!! Part Deux!

Feburary 14, 2010
Valentines Day

2:00 am
I am awoken by a gentle nudge. Forgetting everything but the fact that it's Valentines day, my dream induced logic dictates that this must be my girlfriend waking me for some late night cuddling
"yes pigeon?" I ask seductively
"I need to check your vitals" A large burly samurai/nurse replies
clearing my throat and trying to regain my dignity I put on a fake gruff accent and talk manly stuff while he gently listens to my heartbeat

6:00 am
I'm staring straight into the dark abyss mentally preparing myself for another encounter with the Karate Nurse. But instead am greeted by Brianna, a kind petite blond nurse wielding a flashlight that looks better suited to be clubbing cute helpless animals to death than it is to be checking pupil dilation

8:00 am
I awake to a lovely meal of Rice Krispies, toast, and an omlette, Oh joy! .... Karate Nurse quickly runs in and informs me that I'm getting another CT scan today and he doesn't know if I can eat or not, but that he'll go find out for me as soon as he can.

9:00 am
I stare longingly at the slowly dying omlette who's love I was never meant to share

10:00 am
My mom has arrived at the hospital. She tells me I should fix my hair. I comment that with my forehead inflated as it is from swelling and the giant scar carved down it I'm pretty sure people will excuse me if my hair is a mess. And so she decides to do the motherly thing and fix it for me, but forgetting that my hair is attached to my scalp she tugs on a knot too hard and unintentionally yanks on the scar.
My hair stays a mess

11:30 am
I have just been informed I can indeed eat my breakfast .... half hour before lunch is served. Like a scorned lover I cautiously accept my breakfast back. To avoid further heartbreak I establish the rules to our relationship this time round.
1. I will eat my rice krispies begrudgingly, as I still require the nutrients they provide and they have not yet betrayed me
2. Omlette will sit in the corner alone and think about what he did to me
3. I will enjoy my miniscule apple juice last, for he is innocent in this whole affair

11:35 am
Mom "Why aren't you eating your omlette?"
Dan "It's cold"
"Don't be silly eat it, you need food"
"It's ok mom, it'll be gross and lunch is in a few minutes anyways"
"Here eat it" She starts cutting it up
"No mom, it's ok I'm fine"
"Here" She shoves the fork airplane like towards my mouth
"I don't know why you're being so weird" Takes a bite
".... oh it's cold"

11:40 am
I joyfully swipe up my juice, and go to open it. My mother springs into action faster than a Marine corps vet. Offering all sorts of expertise on juice box opening, I kindly inform her multiple times that I think I can handle opening a juice whilst trying to wrestle the juice from her "helping" hands. Finally after telling her "my hands aren't crippled, I can handle opening my own freakin juice box!!!" she sits back down and asks "Why are you so cranky?"

4:00 pm
Finally meet my first of many room mates. He is a 17 year old boy who broke his arm snowboarding, I never bothered to learn his name. The nurses are helping him get settled in and ask him "on a scale of 1-10 how bad is your pain right now?" My ears perk up and listen for his response. "A 10 a really really painful 10!" ..... A TEN!?! You have got to be kidding me, let's scale this back a couple notches king douche. First of all a ten by definition of this question is the maximum painful it can be. There are 'no light and kinda fun tens' there are only 'really painful tens!' Thats why its a 10! And secondly, you're already patched up and you and me both know that you are not at your most painful you can be. Let's have the old Karate nurse there give you a Judo chop to that cast and watch you wallow in pain, bet you're rethinking your 10 rating now aren't you? ...... Amateur

5:00 pm
I'm trying to take a nap and mother starts to affectionately rub my arm not realizing I still have an IV needle stuck in that arm.... she snags the needle and drives it further into my ligaments, I react like a normal human being to pain and gasp. She apoligizes and contemplates the situation a short while then turns to me with her revelation "Guys are big wusses hey?"

6:00 pm
My Dad and sister, Justine, arrive at the hospital. Knowing my addiction to sugar the have brought me some candy. SCORE! My mother looks up and says "Oh good finally someone to talk to! It's like staying here with a mute. He sleeps most of the time and barely says anything"
I spend the next hour writing witty anecdotes on napkins and getting up to date on current events so that I'll be a more entertaining host next time I have a "Skull fracture party"

7:00 pm
My roomie, otherwise known as "king douche" is all dressed up in his finest. His hat is perched precariously atop his head and angled to the side in just the exact way women swoon over. His jeans look to have been sewed by a blind hobo out of dirty chalk cover rags as his belt unsuccessfully tries to hold them up past his knees. This 'hanging pants effect' allows us the public to see that he is a man of sophistication who wears only the finest made 10 for a dollar wal-mart brand boxers. He informs me that he's slipping out for an hour to meet his girlfriend.

8:00 pm
An older nurse comes into my room with a cart full of supplies. I look inquistively at her and she tells me its bath time. I merrily say ok and start to hop out of my bed towards the shower. "Whoa there skipper" her one arm stops my journey while the other waves a sponge in front of my face. And I lose another ounce of my dignity.

9:00 pm
Nurse Brianna has come to check mine and douchey's vitals. She inquires as to his where abouts and I let her know "He went out for a bit but should be back any second. Speaking of back, don't you hate it when the old lady giving you a sponge bath uses cold water on your backside?" I pause and wait for her inevitable laughter .... it never comes..... I crumple and throw away that napkin. Next time I'll try the bit about brain juice

11:00 pm
still no sign of douchey

Feburary 15

1:00 am
I am rudely awoken to a stumbling bumbling room mate who has finally returned from his 'quick' trip out. Brianna immediately comes flying into the room to enact her righteous vengeance upon him. I smile to myself listening as she tears into him about his behaviour and takes away all his privelages, and quietly wonder to myself who's wrath is worse? Karate nurse or tiny blond Brianna? With punishment dealt Brianna silently apoligizes to me for the noise and hopes I can get back to sleep.... I decide that Karate nurse probably would've just put a sleeper hold on me to ease me back into slumber

2:00 am
I'm awaken to take my vitals once again and have been informed that I will be switching wards. Brianna says she'll help me pack up my stuff as soon as she finds a wheelchair. She hurries off and I get up and start packing

2:30 am
I sit on my bed, bags in hand awaiting my nurses return. Brianna rushes back and says the wheelchair is on it's way. I Tell her its fine I can just walk to which she quickly informs me that its strictly against hospital policy to allow patients being moved to walk to the new ward.
I'm pretty sure she just made that up so she didn't have to say "No humpty dumpty, we can't risk your fragile little self falling."

3:00 am
Have arrived to my new ward via nurse-drawn chariot. There are cute cartoons painting on the glass here everywhere. I am taken to my new bed and it is signifigantly lower than the last, I start to wonder if I've been demoted to the kids ward. My new nurse asks me if I want a heated blanket, I say no and she replies "Hmmm the patients here are babies, they always want heated blankets" I'm afraid to ask "Do you mean literal babies or metaphorical babies?"

8:00 am
I am awoken to the overcast shadow of my mother staring intently at my scar "Hey Sweetie!"

8:30 am
I finally meet my new room mate. He is not a baby (one worry averted) His name is Robert and he''s a young military man who just had his appendix removed. When asked the crucial question he answers a reasonable 5 for pain. I like this guy. I later find out I'm in the surgery ward. I feel like the odd man out and that at some point in the plot of this adventure tale the rest of the surgery ward will challenge my right to be there, resulting in an underdog winning the day but also learning a valuable life lesson in the process

9:00 am
the Nurse in charge comes by to see me
"Oh I see surgery went well. The incision seems rather irregular though"
"Umm, no actually, unless you guys are really, really sneaky I haven't had surgery. That scar is from the hunk of metal that smashed into my head"

2:00 pm
My sister, Jade, and my Dad have arrived, and brought me candy! DOUBLE SCORE!!

3:00 pm
Friends Jeff and Laura come by for a visit and have brought me ...... you guessed it, CANDY! TRIPLE SCORE!!! It's at this point I finally admit to myself that I have a candy addiction problem. I have just taken the first step on my twelve step road to recovery program.
(in case you're wondering, right now I'm on step 3 "overdose" the step where you scarf back as much candy as you can before the authorities take it away)

5:00 pm
After asking the nurses if I can go walk around the hospital lobby for a bit, I have just learned that I have been placed in quarantine and am not allowed to leave my room.

5:30 pm
Robert has been released. I enviously watch him cross the threshold and exit our room. Once again allowed to be a part of society. I return to my Farrah Fawcett poster on the wall, flipping it aside and resume digging with a plastic spoon. Someday I will taste freedom again

6:00 pm
Alone and confined to my room, I'm enjoying some fun dip as provided courtesy of Jeff and Laura. After spending many hours studying this candy I have come to a couple of conclusions.
1. Fun dip is a genius but decieving name for this product. In combination with it's packaging and concept you are truly lead to believe that you will have a more enjoyable time eating this confectionery as compared to your average sugar pill. But alas it is all a cleverly concieved illusion. It starts off fun and carefree bringing you back to a simplier time, when catching frogs down by the pond was the days agenda, and Sesame Street was your daily news. But this feeling will quickly spiral down into frustration as your Lik-A-Stik begins to shatter off inside your dip pouches, creating giant hunks of candy shrapnel that intrude upon your fun dipping time. Your broken stub of a once proud Lik-A-Stik no longer gives you the reach you require and you're forced to open your pouches further and further, allowing more room for the rainbowy colored sugar to dissapate into the air and collect upon the front of your shirt making you look like a flambouyantly gay coke dealer
2. It is a capitalist type candy. They have copyrighted the only two great names for this product in 'Fun Dip' and 'Lik-A-Stik'. Effectively giving them control over the entire fun dip monopoly. This never would have happened in communist Russia
3. Nurses don't appreciate you lining up your fun dip powder on your table like cocaine and pretending to snort it

And so ends another addition of "Crisis of Cranium Crackage!!!"

Once again I'll have a new post about my time spent in the big house for you right away
See you all back here,
Same Dan-Time!
Same Dan-Channel!

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