Saturday, April 3, 2010

Crisis of Cranium Crackage!!! Part Vier!

Welcome back one and all, now gather round as I regale with yet another addition of Crisis of Cranium Crackage! And so without further ado I present to you ....

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

February 20, 2010
(my first night back home after the accident)

9:45 am
My mother is on the phone with my far-and-away sister Jamie when she receives another call
"I have to let you go someone's on the other line, bye ..... Hello?"
"Mom, it's well past 8 and there's still no breakfast in front of me"
"Daniel? Where are you?"
"In bed"
"DANIEL!!! You're lucky you have an injured head otherwise I'd come in there a whip this phone at it!"
"Love you mom"
".... Love you too, now BYE!"

10:30 am
No longer confined to hospitals bland soulless crispy rice for my breakfast, I'm in the kitchen frantically flitting about like some sort of ADD hummingbird trying to decide which nectar to consume. My pal Tony's sugary coated flakes of frost, some syrup confining golden fluffy waffles, or the always delectable strawberry bacterial colonies! (also commonly referred to by the laymen folk as yogurt)
Flavored bacterial colonies takes the win!

12:00 pm
My mom's driving me into the city (plus side to the head trauma, I get to be chauffeured around by my family for a week) And I start discussing the possibility of me going into surgery.
"If I go it's the creepiest place I can think of to get surgery. I mean they will literally have to scalp me and peel back my face to get at the sinus in order to fix it"
"Danny don't be stupid, they wouldn't do that. They'll go up your nose with tiny instruments and do it all that way"
"Mom I'm pretty sure in order to fix bones and cracked skulls it's a little more intense than the Egyptian method of chop sticks up the nose. No amount of twirling and stirring will mend a fracture"

1:00 pm
At the comic shop for the first time since the accident. Having missed out helping my shop owner Jay teach at a school the day previous due to my hospitalization I still feel like I somehow let him down by being mortally wounded. I slip by the counter shading my scar with a held up hand like the unabomber evading a camera and proceed to the comic racks at the back of the store, quiet and content back in my nerdy homeland.

1:15 pm
Deeply involved in a whimsical tale of super pets Jay gets the drop on me
"Danny?! I didn't even see you come in, great to see you man! WOW! It's a good thing you didn't come yesterday, we wouldn't be able to teach anything with all the kids distracted by your forehead"
"We could've told them I was in costume as Frankenstein"

5:00 pm
My dog Sammie (who is deaf) has finally come to realize I'm home. This could be a problem. Why? Well you see Sammie is best describe as a delusional psycho-ex girlfriend stalker. She loves me more than anything. But being a hyper-active highly athletic dog with the attention span of a gerbil, topped off with not being able to hear makes her a dangerous greeter. It all starts with her ears perking up to full attention and a look in her eyes like she has just witnessed the second coming of Jesus. Then she riles up the rest of the dogs before bolting out into the field in an explosion of snow. Using this to build up a sort of boomerang momentum, as she immediately changes course only to come flying back bodychecking one of the insolent dogs for not rising to his feet sooner in order to pay his respects for me. Her body heaving she turns her attentions to me with frothing mouth. Then with a slightly innocent and peculiar turn of her head it all seems to stop. But do not let this fool you, this is but the calm before the storm, for then she unleashes her true power as her body molds into a perfect doggy torpedo homing in on her target.
Mr. Humpty Dumpty Who got hit in the head,
Humpty Dumpty who was almost dead.
And all those doctors who put me on the mend,
Said next skull crack I might not be so lucky again.
So now I have exactly one fifth of a second to plead with my missile crisis dog before she takes me out at the knees and sha-whacks my noggin against the cement. The frantic waving of my arms does nothing to impede her trajectory, so I go to my last resort and deflect her with my knee into the snow bank. But just like any good stalker ex, this minor set back does nothing to hinder her undying love for me when I turn to her snow covered face and give her a long over due hug

6:00 pm
My rumbling stomach has lead me to the kitchen with the intent of acquiring a sandwich. I jovially pluck ingredients from the fridge delighting in the diversity and choice. Like Tony Montana I relish in the bounty of food before me, laughing and rolling in the wealth of produce ..... then it dawns on me
"you have to make this sandwich yourself"
I pour milk into a bowl and munch on some cereal staring at my unfinished sandwich with disdain

7:00 pm
The great debate between face-peeling and chopstick-twirling surgery methods has heated up in my family. It's become more intense than any presidential debate, with slurs and slanders slug by both sides. Old scandals and controversy's brought back to haunt members of both parties. With tensions rising to dangerous levels a shaky truce is made. Arguments halted and bets are placed, with the victors to be decided by the doctors upon my return

8:00 pm
My last night of freedom I pack for my emanate return to the slammer. Like a man on death row long ran out of hope, I decide to give away that which is most precious to me

8:10 pm
A resounding thud fills the kitchen as I drop my loot bag containing the plethora of candies brought to me during my first hospital stay. I whip a tear from my eye as my family thanks me and digs in, I step away from the scene my heart still too attached for me to watch anymore.
I dedicate this entry to you Bag-O-Candy. You were warm and magical, you embodied all that is good in this life and in the brief time we shared you showed me just how bad a sugar high hangover can be
For that I thank you

February 21

10:00 am
I've returned to the hospital, the nurses give me a kind greeting and tell me that my room is just the way I left it. Cold, sterile and with a hint of sugar sprinkled throughout the sheets

12:00 pm
Lunch has arrived. My lunch lady jokingly remarks that it was the great food that brought me back, I quickly reply "Nah I'm just too lazy to cook for myself" She laughs.
It wasn't a joke

2:00 pm
Lost in my sketch book bringing to life my imagination, I'm abruptly brought back to reality by Ana tugging on my shirt
"Mr. Daniel? We put IV in you now?"
"But I thought I didn't need one?"
"You might, doctors might want to operate"
"Sooooo, why don't we do it then?"
"There is a new nurse and she needs practice. And you are the only patient here that doesn't have one in already."
"Plus you're so young and have such lovely veins"
I bashfully turn my head trying to hide my blushing cheeks "Well ok!"
Compliment my veins and I'll do anything you want

2:10 pm
I'm already regretting my decision to become the nurses personal voodoo doll. After her first miss, Ana helped our rookie nurse restab me closer to the vein ("closer" is the key word there) Having still not penetrated the vein wall she starts fishing in my arm like she's trying to jiggle a loose wire. At this point I've lost all color in my face and become so pale that I'm perfectly camouflaged with my bedsheet. After some digging through my arm Rookie nurse has found the vein, Ana congrats her and I weakly cheer trying to hold in my stomach.
"Good job! ... and now that you know better where it is let's try one more time"
Curse my perfectly situated veins!

February 22

5:00 am
The Nose doctor comes by and tells me his team will be looking at my scans today and that I'll probably be released that afternoon. Like a survivor castaway my metaphorical torch of hope has been light

1:00 pm
The head neurosurgeon comes by for a chat with me. I'm pretty sure he was talking about something fairly important but I find myself in a constant psychological battle the entire time I talk with him and unable to concentrate. He has a very thick Australian accent and the majority of my mental power is used to control myself from replying to his questions in a badly imitated accent of my own

5:00 pm
Second neurosurgeon of the day comes by. This time my aphid sized brain is occupied by focusing on her weird ability to speak without actually opening her mouth and only slightly moving her lips. I begin to wonder if she ever had dreams of becoming a world renowned ventriloquist but had those dreams crushed by strict parents who forced her into medical school. I feel like giving her a hug and telling her I believe in her ventriloquist ambitions

6:00 pm
Nose doc finally comes by and tells me that they need to look at my charts more and I'll have to stay one more night.

8:00 pm
Ventriloquist doctor brings by a new quirk-free neurosurgeon to talk to me. With his rather average appearance and voice my one track mind is able to focus on what he's saying. Seems like the two previous neurosurgeons were trying to tell me earlier that they want to do surgery on me. After checking my brain and skull scans it looks like I have a chance to develop a brain infection or meningitis if we don't fix it. And a review of the brain scans also apparently made them realize it would take at least three different doctors to try and get this information through the tiny pinhole sized comprehension part of my brain

February 23

5:00 am
The neurosurgeon from the previous night comes by and let's me know him and the nasal doctors have voted to preform surgery on me but they'll be sending a plastic surgeon to talk to me today to see what he wants to do. It's like I've entered some sort of weird head trauma version of American Idol. I've won over Randy and Paula, now for the clincher I have to win over Simon

11:00 am
My mom is at my side intent on speaking with a doctor insisting that I haven't asked the proper questions. Just then a head and neck doctor comes by to talk with me about the accident and to explain to me what will happen in the surgery.
"You completely obliterated your sinus cavity haha!" He chuckles
"Why thank you" I reply not sure if it was a compliment or not
"Anyways with that destroyed your at a big risk for infection and meningitis. If we fix it now that won't ever happen and it's a low-risk surgery. If we wait till you get sick then it becomes higher risk. So its best to just get it now."
"Agreed. So what are you all gonna do in the surgery?"
"well we'll first start by making an incision at the tops of your ears and cut across the top of your head, which will allow us to pull back the skin down to your eyebrows and open up your skull"
"YES! I knew it!"
"Knew what?"
"Aaaah .... nevermind" I thought explaining my families bet about the surgery methods might be awkward to explain to a guy with a P.H.D.

11:15 am
At this point in the conversation the doctor starts explain all the injuries that I received due to the blow. I nod knowingly having heard it multiple times before from other doctors. He then says that it sounds like I know what he's talking about, and I let him know it's just because I've heard this all before.
"And we're farmers so we know this kind of stuff" My mom states matter of factly
At what point farming relates to neurosurgery is beyond me. I must have missed that day in the field

11:30 am
Everyone in my family has this odd gene that makes us try and prove to people how smart we are no matter how far out of our element we are. We do this by making up random facts, analogies and statements that we have pulled out the every expanding, never proved family encyclopedia. We are all guilty of this at one time or another, not one of us is immune to it. This is proven in this next bit of dialogue between the doctor and my mom
"The sinus cavity acted like an airbag when it got crushed it saved you from dying or getting any brain damage"
"And because he was so close to the metal from where it shot off"
"Ummm, no actually the closer you are the worse it is"

6:00 pm
The Plastic Surgeon has come by to talk to me. After a once over of the old noggin he votes for surgery and says they'll fix my dent.
No more filling it with water and letting the birds bath in it I guess

February 24

10:00 am
I feel like a young Hugh Hefner. I'm waltzing around in a housecoat enjoying life's finer vices (aka fun dip) and am waited on hand and foot by lovely ladies at all times of the day. Heck I even get sponge baths like Hugh

11:00 am
I'm released once again into the real world. Allowed to join modern society. I'm scheduled to return on monday for surgery and have to come in friday for a meeting to get me ready for surgery.

February 26

2:00 pm
Me and some other surgery potentials have just finished watching an hour long video that explains most questions you might have about surgery to me. A comforting professional Anesthesiologist on the video explains to us all the risks involved, the procedures and calms our worries. His soothing voice combined with his kind hearted face ease our tensions. Once over the rest turn to there loved ones and whisper contently amoung themselves. Me always one to watch the credits continue to watch the screen.
"Nice to know that the guy telling us not to worry on this video, Dr. Armstrong, was played by the actor Doug Simpson"
This was about the equivalent of telling a room full of kids that Santa isn't real

February 27
I'm having some lunch with Abby my girlfriend and explaining to her about the surgery. She starts laughing mid conversation and in puzzlement I ask her why.
"Haha it would be hilarious if they accidentally cut a nerve and you ended up with one twitchy eye"
Horror in my eyes I stare at her hoping I heard her wrong
"I'm sorry, I'm not trying to scare you but that could happen"
So now I've been introduce to the paranoia of them randomly cutting nerves to see what messed up kind of face I'll end up with, thanks

So that's all I have for you now. I feel like I kinda rushed this one and pretty sure I missed alot more of the story. (I'll remedy it later if I make this into a book)

I hope you all enjoyed this latest rendition of Crisis of Cranium Crackage! I should have one final edition for you once I finish up with surgery, thank you all to everyone who's commented and read I've had loads of fun writing these and now plan on writing a book. When most of you read this I should be in surgery or just getting out. I'll see you all after the drugs wear off and I'm awake enough to form complete sentences Haha

Till next time, meet ya back here
Same Dan-Time!
Same Dan-Channel!

p.s. Look for the new Bald version of Danny when he gets out of the hospital! Yayness!!!

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