captain_slinky: (Smile)
Last night i went to the Emergency Room because of severe abdominal pain - pain SO INTENSE, I could hardly walk. The CAT Scan came back and showed not a Hernia, not an Appendix, but a GIANT INTERNAL BRUISE that measures 10 centimeters by 8 centimeters by 6 centimeters. "Mister Pierce, do you have any idea how you could have sustained this injury?"

Yes... yes I do.

Three weeks ago I drove up to Mount Vernon to set-up and install internet at my Mom's place. First thing that happened when I got there was that I "tripped" over nothing, twisting the dickens out of my ankle and throwing myself in to the wall; I had to literally *crawl* to do all the installing of stuff.

Now I *say* I tripped over NOTHING, but... well... the truth is that I tripped over the *exact spot* where my Dad's body had lay in the hall while we waited for coroners and funeral folks to show up and take him away. Also, it was right around the exact time (about 6pm) when my Dad had died. And when I tripped, the wall that I was thrown in to was the wall right next to his bedroom door.

And so the joke became that I must have done something really bad that my Dad just had to come back from the grave and whoop my like that... but that's not The End of the beat-down he gave me.

By the end of the evening, my ankle was feeling well enough for me to drive home, but I started to notice a pain in my lower abdomen, something that felt an awful lot like a pulled muscle. Within the next few days, the ankle got better and the pain in my tummy just kept on feeling terrible whenever I did ANYTHING that involved my abdominal muscles - sitting up, rolling over, coughing, laughing, sneezing OH MY GAWD SNEEZING!!! Sneezing just about killed me!

A week later, I was on the floor setting up a computer for Molly's birthday, laying on my stomach running the various cables to the monitor and the outlet and whatnot when Crystal asked me to do or get something (I forget what it was), so I tried to spring up from the floor and I heard a wet POP! come from the place in my abdomen where the pain was. One of those waves of panic/fear/adrenaline/coldness/sweat washed over my, I went pale and nearly passed out - NOW the use of my abdominal muscles was SO PAINFUL I could barely get around the house!

I spent the rest of the week taking ibuprofen, Tylenol and ice while *resting*. Took just over a week to get to the point where I was "used to it", so we went up to Mount Vernon...

...And my Dad beat me up AGAIN! Kind of!

See, we were there to finish up a few of his final projects - his final batch of wine and a giant batch of Sauerkraut that we had all helped him make in his final days. Since I was feeling better, feeling cocky and not wanting to let my Mom and my Sister know I was till in pain, I "pushed it". I tried to carry the giant bucket of Sauerkraut all by myself and felt a slow, ripping sensation coming from my abdomen.

DANG IT DAD, KNOCK IT OFF!

Before it got too bad, I stopped and got Crystal to do all my heavy lifting and by golly it worked!

That was the night of the Snow Storm, where we had to abandon our car and walk a quarter-mile home, no problem... but I was still very tender. Saturday, Sunday, Monday... Ibuprofen, Tylenol, Rest.

By Tuesday night, I was feeling at bout 95% healed. I could even sneeze without screaming, it was awesome!

Tuesday in our household is "No-Tech Taco Tuesday", where we turn off all the electronics, eat tacos and play board games. We were playing a particularly silly game called "100 Really Dumb Things You Have to Do While Playing This Game" that, as one of the hundred things I had to do, demanded that whenever someone left the room I had to throw myself on the floor and pretend to be a bear rug till they came back. Crystal had to crawl out of the room while pretending to be a dog going to get a drink of water, which made Molly have to follow her while hula dancing, and I had to throw myself on the floor -

POP!

Same wave of pain, same spot, only THIS TIME the pain was INTENSE and CONSTANT. Took Ibuprofen, took Tylenol, waited for them to kick in... NOTHING. Couldn't sit down, couldn't lay down, couldn't focus on anything because of the pain. And so I suggested "Hey everybody! Let's go to The Hospital! Wouldn't that be fun???"

And to think it all happened because the Ghost of My Dad decided to beat me up!
captain_slinky: (Smile)
Thursday night at about 10:30 (pretty late considering that we go to bed at 8:30ish with our kid), my phone rang. It was my Mom, and he simply said (without any hello or other pleasantries) "Your Father wants to talk to you" and handed the phone to my Dad. I could hear her saying "Okay, here's Brian".

My Dad answered "Hello?"

Hi! What's up?

"I just wanted... I wanted to call and see how... how your new job is going."

Oh it's going great, thanks for asking! (I figured that he was just having a difficult night, one of those nights where he kind of forgets where he is and spends the whole night making his bed - it's not uncommon)

"That's good, that's good... so what is it you do? You, uh..."

I do Computer Support from home, so the thing I do for Mom and Bet with THEIR computers, I do for all sorts of people now and they give me money!

"HA! I bet they do! Well, you... you wanna know what *I'M* up to tonight?"

Whatcha doing tonight, Dad? (The tone of our conversation is jovial, upbeat and just barely slurred on his side).

"I'm tryin' to keep from PISSING MYSELF! HA!"

HAHAA That's great, dad, good luck!

"Okay, well I'm gonna hand you back to your mom now... love ya!"

Love you too, Dad... Good Night! (And then my mom took the phone back, and I could hear the crying/panic in her voice.

"Brian, your father wanted to call tonight because he wanted you to pray for him."

What?!?

"Your father collapsed on the bed and started having a seizure tonight. He *choke*... I don't... I... I guess I'll just call the paramedics if it... happens... again *choke* *sob*. But he seems better now, so I... I don't... pray for him, Brian. I don't... Go back to sleep. I... I don't know what to do. *click*"

And so I lay there in bed, wondering what was going on. I talked with Crystal about it for a bit, we agreed that there was nothing to do but wait till morning.

First thing in the morning I called and it was a completely different situation. My mom is happy and chipper and saying "He's done a complete 180! After we called you last night he lay there for a while, then he kissed me on the forehead and said he was feeling great! Slept all night long and now he's awake and having a big breakfast!"

My Dad himself says "GOOD MORNING! I am having a breakfast of sausage and toast and hash browns and an egg and ORANGE JUICE! I've never drank orange juice without Vodka before!"

And so everyone was happy and my Mom said that whatever prayer I said last night to keep saying it because it worked!

I'm happy for them, but two things keep going through my mind:
  • All my grandparents had a "Miracle Day" of feeling and being better than they had been in MONTHS just a day or two before they died, and
  • I didn't say a single prayer that night. Just a lot of hard thinking :/


TO BE CONTINUED IN PART 2: FRIDAY NIGHT AND SATURDAY MORNING

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