Chapter Ten: “...a fat bullfrog...”
Scene One: Surgery
“Mr. Carter we need you to turn over to your left side, please.” ‘We’ helped me roll over and tucked a thick, warm blanket around me. They pulled my right arm out straight, as it now housed the IV, which would soon be used to knock me out. Better that than a tire-iron.
“Mr. Carter, we are going to put this between your teeth.” It was a round, green object with a large hole in the center. Its purpose was to hold my mouth open once I was asleep. The scope, with its camera, would be passed through it into my stomach. This would enable my doctor to watch what was going on in “vomit-land” on the monitor behind me.
“Here, open up just a bit.” It wasn’t too large, and a rubber-band like attachment was placed around my head to hold it into place.
“All right, here comes the medication. Your arm may sting a bit. You may experience some dizziness, and then you will wake up in recovery.” It didn’t sting, but my arm did get warm. Then my lips felt funny, like your foot waking up when it’s been asleep. In my line of site was a monitor in which I could see my reflection. I looked like a fat-mouthed bull-frog. What was that song Aaron use to sing? ‘Oh, I went a huntin’ for a fat bull-frog and I found one a sittin’ on a bumpy log. I hallered, “there’s a froggie.....”
Scene Two: Recovery
“...but the froggy said, “Ney! I’m just a green birdy with my feathers washed away.”
“Mr. Carter, did you say something?” No, I sang it, thank you.
“How are you feeling?”
“Cold.” My voice was really small, and a little horse. “I need a bigger one. I’m too tall for a pony.”
“Pony?” Brian, why are you confused? No one took a picture of your insides with a camera. God, I hope those don’t end up in the hands of the press.
“It’s OK. He’s still a bit out of it. He’ll most
likely be that way for a few more hours. Why don’t you wait with the others? We’ll call you when he is out of recovery.”
“Nick? I’m going to be right outside.” Is it warm out there? I’m freezing here, man. Send in Howie. At least he’ll blow hot air on me. “Just ask for me if you need anything. They know to come get me.” I hate to ask Brain, but I need a blanket! You’d think the people being paid for this would take care of it. They must still be sore about cleaning up the dog pee in post-op. Well, Houston has a small bladder.
“Mr. Carter? I’m Sarah. I’ll be right here with you. Do you need anything.” I’ll make one last effort.
“Cold.” Please, a blanket, Howie talking, set me on fire, ANYthing!
“I can do something about that!” Oh, good. A pyromaniac to the rescue!
HHHHHUUUUUUMMMMM. Suddenly warm air flowed over my feet, legs and back. Oooohhhhh, I was in heaven. This is better than sex - um...not that I know what sex is like. But.....um...you know, AJ has told me. Sure, that’s it. AJ tells everybody. Did you know that AJ is so good at sex he makes himself scream? That’s what he tells me, and being a virgin myself (OK, even I have the urge to laugh.).... And on to the next topic.
HHHHHHHUUUUUMMMMMM. Loud noise. She must have just asked all the guys to stand behind me and blow. I guess they didn’t want Howie to have all the fun. You know, I’ll bet AJ was disappointed with this definition of “blow.”
“What are those?” Hey, my doctor’s voice. When is he going to get on with the scope? “They look like large hair-dryers.”
“Basically that’s what they are. They really work well.” And so began what I am sure was, to the medical professionals, an interesting conversation concerning the various ways to keep cold patients warm. To me it was just a long stretch of time spent wondering why I was awake. Hey, I’m awake! If you push anything down my gullet in this condition I promise a return on your deposit.
“Nick? Nick, how are you feeling?” I thought we had already established that. Oh, wait. I wasn’t cold any more.
“Warmer.” My voice was a bit stronger. Hey, I could talk! Doc, the green thing has slipped out. It’s not my fault! I didn’t do it. Houston must have taken it while I was sleeping. I know AJ didn’t. He can’t stand anything that has spit on it. Which, by the way, if you really want to get back at AJ, is valuable knowledge.
“It’s all over Nick. You will be out of recovery in about thirty more minutes. We’ll wait a couple of hours until you are a bit more focused, then we’ll talk about the results, OK?” There they were, OKing me again. What if I demanded to know right now? What if I can’t take it any more? What if...oh heck. I’m tired. I’m taking a nap.
Scene Three: Hospital room. Late morning.
“OOOOHHHHHHHH, I went a huntin’ for a FAT bullfrog, and I found one a sittin’ on a bumpy log...”
“Shhh Nick... we’re in a hospital!’ Really Kevin? I never noticed. Toss me that bedpan, will you?
“We should never have let the doctor change his pain medication.” Kevin was evil, that’s all there was to it. Perhaps that explaines those eyebrows, ingrown horns.
“Chill Kev. The doc said he would be high for a while after he woke up. Easy, he should come down soon.” Brain was being very understanding about my condition. Well, not completely. He was eating cheetos. Kind of cruel I thought, considering I hadn’t had food in over 48 hours.
“Nick! Give me that phone. You are not calling anyone else.” Kevin grabbed my arm, twisting the phone from my hand. “Howie’s Mom thought you had lost your mind.”
“HEY, you hurt me BADLY!” He owed me big. “Let’s sing Christmas Carols!”
“Nick, it’s July. We’ll catch pneumonia from thinking of the cold in this heat.” Kevin was a Christmas pooper.
“Oh, come on! Let’s sing my version of “Oh Christmas Tree.”
“You have your own version? How dumb.” As this was coming from a guy with orange teeth I felt Brian had no room to talk.
“Oh Christmas tree oh Christmas tree How lovely are thy branches Oh Christmas tree oh Christmas tree We buy you on tree ranches...” Man, I sounded good!
“Hush Nick! You’re making too much noise!” Kevin looked like he expected a visit from the enema fairy any minute. I continued, fearless. After all I had been visited by that particular persona in ER, and enema’s never strike twice. However, Kevin does, so I’ll just keep tabs on him during my spectacular performance.
“Of all the trees out in the woods you have the leaves that still look good...” The phone rang during this verse, but I was too busy doin’ my thang to care.
“Oh Christmas tree oh Christmas tree the lights and decorations...” Brain was conducting. He knew how to appreciate a good song.
“Oh Christmas tree oh Christmas tree for drunken celebrations...”
“No, No! Nick’s not drunk...you see....” Who was Kevin talking to? Forget them, big finish.
“Oh Christmas tree oh Christmas tree the brown pine needles on you oh Christmas tree oh Christmas tree the blazing flame is so true Of all the trees within the house You are the driest that’s about...” Kevin slapped his hand over my mouth and shushed me. How rude.
“It’s AJ. Here.”
“AAAAAAJJJJJJJJ! DUDE! What’s hanging?”
“About 9 inches, little man!” Oh AJ, you so bad.
“No no Aje, I’VE got size 11 feet!” There, let him do the math.
“Oh, God.” Kevin looked like he had sat on a tack. Well, we’re in the right place for that. If possible Brain was having a better time than me. At present he was on the floor laughing so hard you’d think he would wet his pants. He better be careful around here. There are people that stalk the halls with catheters.
“Where are you Aje? Why aren’t you here? I’m singing Christmas Carols and these poop heads won’t sing with me. Hey, do you know ‘Oh, Christmas Tree’?” Kevin grabbed the phone back before I could break into verse.
“Yea, OK. Noon. See ya then.” They guys had decided on a schedule of sitting, as they felt I shouldn’t be left alone. I was insulted. After all I had been left alone before. It was not my fault. Who knew you couldn’t pop popcorn in the oven?
A nurse arrived with another shot for me which turned out to be some type of sleeping medication. Kevin thanked her a lot. Some people are just plain mean.
-