Archives for category: HUMOUR

We’ve all been here before. A cashier gives us a total

that’ll be $18.77

and with utter delight and pure ignorance we reply

1877 huh? that was a good year

A smile creeps across your lips as you relish in your humour. How brilliant! How original! Most importantly, how funny!

My story begins when my little brother and I go to lunch on Tuesday. Fed up with standard fare, we venture downtown to Siegfried’s Delicatessen. A wonderful place to eat if you’re in the area. Even if you’re not, it’s something you should make pilgrimage to at least once. If not this German deli then some local German deli. Delicious food.

At Siegfried’s one can get a real taste of the Soup Nazi from Seinfeld. Not saying that the cooks and servers are mean, but it is similar in many ways. Firstly, there is always a bit of a line. You do have to know how to order or you’ll hold the line up and possibly get a stern look. Stern looks always pierce me harder than words. Next you order from one person, your plate gets handed down the assembly line to add on your spaetzle or rotkohl or what-have-you (my dad loves their what-have-you). Once your plate is complete you take your tray to the cash register and pay quickly and then you are free to enjoy your schweinsteak and a hard roll. It’s not mean or cold service, it’s just German and efficient.

We completed the ordering with no snags and I was ready to nom on some fried potatoes. The paying part is the easiest part by far, so I’m confident.

$19.15 she says.

Without a beat I say
1915 huh? Good year.

Regret followed quickly. You’re in a German deli! Don’t make history jokes! Don’t reference years! Just smile and thank them for the delicious sauerkraut.

1915? she says.
That was not a good year for my people. Armenian genocide.

If you have seen A Few Good Men you know the scene with Jack Nicholson talking to Tom Cruise about his father and he asks

How the hell is your dad Dan?

and Tom says
He’s dead, sir.

The look on Nicholson’s face I mimicked exactly as I said to myself his next line

Well, don’t I feel like the fuckin’ asshole?

I did. I felt awful. A stupid line I know most of us say in an attempt to be cute or ironic. I think next time I am given a total I will simply say “Thanks for letting me stop by”.

So to you, patrons of this blog, thanks for stopping by.

love,
adn

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What can I say anymore? It has been confirmed that I am indeed, the weird kid. This really didn’t come as a shock to me and I would assume didn’t come as a shock to anyone that knows me either. However, in a life full of uncertainty it was a genuine surprise to receive confirmation of…well….anything really. Feel left out? Prepare to have speed increased so you are caught up.

Part of my new life includes nearly weekly blood test. Levels in my metabolic panel change so frequently and my doctors all give a damn that they monitor the hell out of me. I pretend sometimes to be upset by this, but I occasionally enjoy being taken care of. I always turn into a little boy when I am sick that just wants his mom to make him soup and tell him everything will be ok. Well I have been sick for almost a year now, so the attention waxes and wanes from beautiful to annoying. I realise this is my own brain making these determinations, so I will return to the story.

Today I had a blood test to check my kidney function and potassium levels. For some funny reason, potassium and I do not get along. It’s pretty funny because my gangy always used to talk about bananas and potassium. So I assumed I was one of the only kids my age that was watching for that. Side note to that side note, I can only spell bananas by singing the Gwen Stefani song. I get lost in the “na”s so I sing it. jnan found that funny as do I.

Back to the blood…

For as long as I have been getting these tests, I have wanted to ask for a vial of my own blood. Why? Why not? I sit in a chair and am poked until I bleed. What’s my compensation (besides of course the reassurance that I am getting healthy…but that’s neither here nor there)? As I am pricked I stare at this clear plastic cubby full of different coloured tubes. Each tube coded for what test it is with a different additive. Medical science is very fascinating. Today, with my newly discovered courage, I asked the adorable phlebotomist my question. I thought it was reasonable, but I got the strangest look ever. Before she could answer, because I felt a huge “no” coming on, I countered with, “What, will you get in trouble?”
“I don’t think so” she replied, still trying to gauge if I was just screwing with her, “no one has asked before. I don’t see why not, it is your blood”.

With two tubes in her hand she says she will give me the first one. Confused I asked if she didn’t need it. I learned that when running a metabolic panel they need to remove all air from the line so as not to taint the sample. She was just going to throw away my blood. My blood. She reattached the first vial to fill it a little more and gave it to me. It has no additive since it is used only to clear the line. Now I sit here with a 3.0 ml vial of blood filled halfway. To everyone that has heard me recount this story, it has been met with the same facial response as the phlebotomists. I am ok with being weird. I am the kid with a vial of his own blood on his nightstand. What do you think Stephen King has on his nightstand? Think about it. Thanks for stopping by.

love,
adn

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Here I am, awake and alone at 3:30 am. Popping hydrocodone due to a very sore back as a result of my recent seizures. As I sit here, I fully comprehend why people get high and watch cartoons. The pill takes it’s effect and I turn on the one and only, Pink Panther. Classic movies and even more classic cartoons. At this particular moment, the panther is chasing a basketball that appears to be possessed. This ball has a mind and the intent to run away. Already adorable and funny, right? Across from the park there is a volleyball tournament taking place where a volleyball decides it too wants to run away. The two balls meet in the park and fall in love and get married. They have children and live happily ever after. What joy! Here I sit alone, a little afraid, and a little sad, and now, hopeful. These two balls of different sports found love in each other despite their differences. How brilliant is that?! Well, I liked it. You don’t have to be so mean about it. Geez.

Other things of note, I have temporarily dropped out of school. With the uncertainty of my health and it’s new complications, I don’t want to risk failing classes due to a lack of attendance as a result of hospital stays. I am going to take this time to focus on health and start again in the spring semester. This decision did not come lightly, but had to be done.

Speaking of health, yesterday I had my MRI. What a queer experience that was. When I was done my dad asked how it went. The best way I could describe it was, I felt like I was being faxed. I was secured in this head restraint (the MRI was specific to my brain) and the conveyor takes me in. It sounds like an ancient 14.4 modem firing up and trying to send me to the matrix. Why oh why didn’t I take the blue pill? So 45 minutes later and I was successfully magnetically resonated. The results are being sent to my neurologist and we will know more next week. Also next week, a visit with the heart failure team. Ah the life of a geriatric trapped in the sexy body of a 25 year old Adonis.

The Lortab is continuing to take it’s wonderful effect and I am starting to spell lots of things wrong, so I will end this entry here. I love each and everyone that reads this and I am a lucky boy to have such beautiful people in my life. I will let you know more about my brain as I find out, but until then, thanks for stopping by.

love,
adn

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Let me tell you a little more about myself. I am quirky. Eccentric. Weird. Call it what you wish, I am a unique person. One of my traits was brought up today…or yesterday…as a negative. I am not one to argue against reasons to call me weird or different, but this is something I actually think is normal.

I am an inquisitive person by nature, and when something new enters my life, I need to find out whatever I can. For example, when I was diagnosed with heart failure, I began researching everything I could. Whether it was medication, surgery, diet, or a myriad of other associated terms, I wanted to know what I was in for. Another prime example was when I was getting high. I knew that I wanted to be numb, but I didn’t want to die. So I researched every drug and drink before I took them. Now, after abusing the first drug all that research became null and void. My inhibitions were eradicated and caution wasn’t just thrown to the wind, it was sent soaring off the highest cliff imaginable. Back to the point…

After I had a seizure I began reading everything I could on the subject. This was done to not only cope with what happened but also to prepare for what might come next. Until I see a neurologist I have to assume another one is possible. I was talking with one of my sisters about it and I was asked “…and how do you know this?”. Before I could respond, little asn piped up and said “because all he’s been doing since it happened is reading about seizures!”. I didn’t think it was weird, but it gets brought up a lot. My mother is convinced my calling in life is to be a pharmacist, considering I read everything available on the drugs I do take. I call them by compound name and not by some dumbed down term. I don’t call them heart pills, because I take different ones. I take carvedilol and lisinopril for my heart specifically. When I talk of my pills to anyone I get a look of “Oh…that’s nice”. I don’t take offence to it at all, it’s just one of my many growing geriatric features. Sitting around comparing ailments and medications with war vets that have hearing aids. That’s what life has become. The reason I bring this up right now is because of some reading done on the seizure. Look at the non blurred text in the picture below.

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A Finnish death metal band? Now that’s just plain funny. Reading always yields something to make me smile. The fact that in this world we need to differentiate between an epileptic episode and a Finnish death metal band is enough to lighten any mood. Next post is going to be a bit more serious and possibly scary. I hope you’re as excited as I am. Thanks for stopping by.

love,
adn

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Hello dear readers. I want to preface this by saying, I have the greatest friends and family a boy could ask for. Today while hanging out with my friend Malora, I had a seizure. Even better, I was driving at the time. I have no idea what happened and awoke to her on the phone with 911. I was trying my hardest to start my car and keep driving, but wasn’t allowed. Good thing because I was truly terrified of what had happened. The fact that I just awoke and couldn’t remember anything was very scary. Of course, the way I deal with this fear is humour. I kept making jokes much to the chagrin of Malora and my family. So for today I had a few firsts. One of which was the ambulance ride and the other was a CT scan. Although, a CT scan isn’t totally different than a few of the heart tests I have had, but it was still a first.

For now there is no cause and I have to get an EEG. Now I have a team of cardiologists and a neurologist. This is not my beautiful life. I feel ok and I am relaxing for now. My body is super tight and there is always the worry that this is a new lifelong ailment. I hope for the best and will keep you updated. Thanks for stopping by.

love,
adn

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Not even 10 hours into this experiment and it is in my dreams and driving me crazy. I took a nap because of the heart meds and ended up having 3 different dreams all related to me breaking my vow.

1: little brother and his friend came in my room to bother me until I yelled at them. I did yell, but I swear they couldn’t hear me. So now I am laying in bed thinking I couldn’t even make it 10 hours.

I wake up. “ahh. All a dream”. I go back to sleep.

2: my little sister and little brother have made a total mess of the downstairs and refuse to clean it up. Again, I yell. This time I was heard and ridiculed for breaking the vow so quickly.

I wake up. “another dream? Seriously? Ok, whatever, I am still silent”. Back to sleep, what was once my refuge.

3: my older brother and I are playing video games. He is getting overly upset because he wants to do certain things that I am already doing. So in my defense I yell at him. Then little brother and little sister come in and mock that I couldn’t make it. I move to the couch and see my phone is coming apart and I just scream.

I woke up for the last time. “seriously? What is this?”. I stay awake and silent.

Final observations. These dreams were all things that were very plausible, but blown out of proportion. My siblings wouldn’t act this way on purpose. They wouldn’t do things just to make me fail and laugh at me. This brings me to the heart of the matter, I get upset over the small stuff. I sweat insignificant things and feel I have to react to them all. I am still an angry person and I need to control it. I am happy to say that I still haven’t spoken since 6:30 this morning. This experiment may go longer to see if I can work on these demons that frustrate me for no reason. To adm, kte, and asn, I know as your brother I overreact. I have time to think about it. I am in a self-imposed vocal timeout. Hooray. Thanks for stopping by.

love,
adn

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Ok, my last post was titled “Manic Thursday”. Why you may ask? Because I honestly thought it was Thursday. In my mania I forgot what day it is. At this point I literally cannot remember what happened on Thursday and Friday. I woke up Saturday and thought it was Thursday. How ridiculous and scary is that? What if I did something amazing? What if I did something horrifying? This time loss can only be a few things.

1: Abduction. Lost time is a common factor among abductees.

2: Tumor. This could also explain my migraines.

3: Everyone is screwing with me and it really is only Saturday morning right now.

I truly believe that all 3 are possible. But I really can’t talk more about days I don’t remember. So on to the second half of my title. Foreshadowing…

I am currently on Google+ and I have downloaded all info from Facebook so I can have it should I decide to delete it. Also, it’s nice to have a local HTML file with my Wall, Friends, and Photos. I was looking through old posts and I found this:Not the Gary Busey part. I left that in for comedic value. The post above it. 25 months before I was diagnosed with heart failure, I said it was broken. I knew in my heart that my heart was broken. Weird, huh? Maybe I should have said “I’m married to a beautiful woman and we live in a cabin in the woods”. That would have been a better prediction. In fact, for 25 months from now (August 2013): “I graduated, got married, moved out of my aunt’s basement, bought a new car, and had a child. Her name is Persephone”. Good? Good. Thanks for stopping by.

love,

adn

I am indeed a nut in a shell. The shell is the simple idea that social situations can be nearly paralyzing to me. It’s funny because the rest of my family is crazy social. I am trying to change this part of my character. Social anxiety is inherent with low self esteem. I have never thought much of myself so I try and stay on the defensive. After all, you can’t hate me if I hate me first. So there :p. With low self esteem comes my codependency. I have some wonderful friends and family that validate me. They gently stroke my ego and remind me why they like me. I literally feel like I can’t go a single day without hearing it once from someone. It is truly a sickness. I should be able to like myself and let others decide for themselves and not take it personally if they decide not to like me. Again, I am working on this.

Happiness and sanity are important ideas to me. So with my behavioral medications upped an added I also asked my doctor for a referral to a psychiatrist. There are two right in my area so I will be checking with them. I need to get to the root of these issues. Maybe it’s not 100% chemical. Sure with a family history of mental issues and addictive personalities those things can be just a part of my genetic makeup, but there could be another explanation. There could be some thoughts and feelings so deep I have forgot about them consciously but subconsciously they are tormenting me. I can safely say at this moment I am happy. If not happy then at least content.

Other health stuff? Fainting spells are still common. I nearly passed out behind the wheel two days ago. It is scary when I am anywhere but home, so I am home. There is a family reunion occurring in the beautiful Cedartonville Canyon but I am very fearful with the dizziness and such. So I am staying home. Safe and near my doctors. Hopefully after the two months on the maximum doses of Coreg, Lisinopril, and Spironolactone my heart will be improved enough to get off them. That will be an awesome day.

Speaking of drugs, another funny thing happened at the pharmacy today. I went in to get a refill on my Torsemide and the wait seemed forever. There is a system issue and I am waiting for one guy to get done. I start pacing and swaying to keep myself awake and I see a male pharmacist that attended to me after collapsing the previous time. He kind of eyed me to make sure I didn’t hit the deck. Then the beautiful blonde came to my attention and she called me by name. The narcissist in me loves the sound of my own name when spoken by a woman I am attracted to. It goes back to that validation factor. So I turn on the small talk feature in my brain.
“It’s a little sad that you know me by name now” I said.
“I know almost everyone’s name” she replied with a cute smile.
She grabs my pills and comes back and I ask “Were you here when I passed out?”
“I was the one that called the code in on you!”
“It’s weird,” I say, “this never happened before but now it is all the time almost.”
She tells me she had it for about 13 years and it went undiagnosed that whole time. She had three heart surgeries and showed me her scar. At first I wanted to cry thinking to myself, what if I don’t get better? What if this is indeed the calm before the storm? But I quickly realized, well, she is still living. Good looking and happy on the outside. Even if more health trouble comes my way, it doesn’t have to be the end. I can fight anything I feel. I love everyone I meet at the hospital. Truly a place of healing in so many different ways. So for tonight I am gonna try and get a little sleep. And considering I will be alone for the next few days, I could really use a “nurse” to sleep with her head on my chest at nights (you know…to monitor my heart rhythm and help resuscitate it should it get too low) and be there should I fall down the stairs. I would hate to have that happen without an audience. What can I say? I’m a showman. Never can be too careful. Thanks for stopping by.

love,
adn

I would like to introduce you to Charlie. Charlie is a fox that lives at the airport. One of my favourite things to do is drive out to the airport behind the terminals and park near the runways. You can sit and just watch planes take off and land with great views. On one such journey I met this fox. He introduced himself to me and said his name was Charlie.

Pleased to meet him, I asked what he was doing out there. Turns out he enjoys the same past time of watching the planes land and take off. He invited me back to his foxhole to have tea and discuss the war.

Charlie has a bold heart and would love to meet any of you as well. He thanked me as I thank you; thanks for stopping by.

love,
adn

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So today I had another visit with the heart failure clinic today. Pretty standard visit at the beginning. Weight, blood pressure, temperature, pulse, oxygen, all in great shape. Usual depression and slight lightheaded feelings. So we talk and decide it’s time to go up again on the Coreg. While the doctor is writing out the new scrip it’s time for a blood test. Before the phlebotomist comes in another clinician comes in to see if they can update my DNA profile for a study they are doing on heart failure and genetics. I was happy to oblige the first time nearly 6 months ago simply because the clinician was pretty and I approve of science. Now they need to update. Same clinician as before so again, I sign the consent. This means instead of one vial they are gonna take four.

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I think nothing of the rest and we set an appointment for next month. And then a month after that, a new echocardiogram.

Left the doctor and picked up asn from school. Again, thinking all was well I decide to go fill my new scrip. By this time it had nearly been four hours since my appointment. I sit in the pharmacy for about 10 minutes and my fill is ready. I stand up and get to the counter and get a little dizzy. Next thing I know I am waking up on the floor. I was so confused thinking to myself, why am I on the floor? Wasn’t I at the pharmacy? Yes I was, but I passed out. I stood up and leaned on the counter trying to just get done and out of there. Well, I passed out again. As I was about to pass out a third time I got a wheelchair brought in. I should mention that my pharmacy is at IMC in Murray where the clinic is. Where everything is, that place is huge. As I am sitting in the wheelchair I got a drink and I heard them call a code to the pharmacy. Three EMTs come in with a stretcher and they want me to go to the ER. A nurse and another phlebotomist comes in and all these people are asking, are you diabetic? Are you dizzy? One of the pharmacy techs even talked to the EMT in a hushed voice that I wasn’t aware of what was going on. It took me awhile to realize I had passed out. The EMTs walked me to my car and took my info and let me drive home. As I was at the light I erupted in to laughter and called a friend to guide me home. Lacey Anne was there to take my call and provide me with some comfort and I made it home. I don’t really recall what was said but I remember feeling calm when I got home. So thank you Lacey. You are the best. As for me? I am gonna take it easy. Thanks for stopping by.

love,
adn