Tuesday, April 26, 2011

The Dope Show











The first few days after my surgery, I spent most of my time sleeping due to my narcotic cocktail of morphine, oxycodone and vicodin.  In those not so lucid moments between dreams, I would stare at the world around me and realize just how amazing the simple things in life can be...and how I couldn't stop thinking about how messed up everything looked.

A couple of side notes:  1)  I never thought I would ever use lyrics from a Marilyn Manson song in one of my posts, but it just seemed to fit .  2)  I also need to give credit to Ayris who, at the age of five, can already take better pictures than her dad.

Also, alternate post title #2:  How I Spent My Spring Break by Chris

-Cheers!

Sunday, April 17, 2011

"Make Fun of Chris" Contest!

Greetings!  So as you may have noticed, I just put up a post and here we are a few days later with yet another one.  Well thanks to Mike Wheeler and my new direction (Occam's Razor), I will try to keep my posts shorter in an attempt to keep the new material coming more often.  I hope that this one is a fun one for all of you as I'm offering a contest prize for the person with the best response. 

For those of you that don't know me very well, I can be a smart ass...a total, raging smart ass.  I have a lot of people in my life that also like to give me as much crap as I like to give them.  So here is your chance to get in a funny jab at my expense.  Some of you have already made some pretty funny comments about my current situation with the whole hip thing, so I though I'd start a collection.

Now please keep it respectful.  While I can take some humor at my expense, my fragile self-esteem will not be able to handle a full assault of my overall being...so let's be nice please.

Here are two examples of what not to say:




Yeah, not funny and more than likely not going to go over well here.

But, I do have examples of some of the comments / jokes already made:
  • Pinkerton started calling me HIPpie (which is hilarious if anyone remembers me from my actual hippie days)
  • Tami said "...it's a pain in the hip"
  • Because of my hideous scar, Nik asked if she can start calling me "Zipper"  (Dear Nik - Only if you don't expect me to respond)
  • When Greg saw the picture of Adler and me with my cane, he said we looked like the pimp versions of Dr Evil and Mini Me
  • Karen sent me a pretty funny text one night:

(***Anyone else find it odd that they do the "One-Hip Hokey Pokey" at fish frys these days?)
  • And of course my favorite (and front runner) so far, Jason L sent me a link to The Scooter Store.  After I was done laughing, I fired up Photoshop and sent him a version of my own:


Jason said I look good.  Cara said she was going to print a copy to hang in her cube and blackmail me.  Both were appropriate responses.

So there you go, feel free to leave your best comments.  I'll be checking throughout the week and then submit the top 5 (assuming I actually get that many) to a preselected panel of judges for the final decision of who is the winner.

Also, in addition to this just being an exciting opportunity to take a jab at my expense (Ryan, I hope you're paying attention), the winner will receive a special prize along with an award ceremony to be captured on a future edition of the Lemon.

Good luck to you all...

-Cheers!

Friday, April 15, 2011

The leg bone is connected to the...something?

And here we are with yet another exciting post from the land of the Lemon.  I apologize again for a delay in the posts; however, I have cooked up a good excuse this time!  As most of you may know, I recently went under the knife and had my hip replaced.  The formal procedure is called a “total joint replacement”.  Basically, I now have a shiny, new ball and socket hip joint on the right side of my body made up of titanium and ceramics (yes, it sure will be fun going through airport security the rest of my life).
Anyway, I went into work for the first time since my surgery to have lunch with some coworkers and make sure my key still unlocked my office door (I thought for sure it would have turned into a break room or Wheeler would have taken it over or some third thing).  While I was there, Cara reminded me that I should be posting more on my blog since I haven’t been at work.  Well, that would have been a challenge the first few weeks since I was either sleeping or heavily medicated.  I wrote down a bunch of ideas and have no idea what they mean whatsoever.  So instead of trying to interpret my drug induced ramblings, I decided to stick with what I know best which is…um, I have no idea, but it sure as hell isn’t narcotic related.
I’ve had a lot of people asking questions about what happened during the actual procedure, but then they cringe when I start talking about dislocating my hip, bone saws and staples.  So I’ve decided to tell you the entire story of what happens, but in a nicer, friendlier way that hopefully won’t be as cringe-worthy as the actual (uncensored) process.  In this version, I’m going to pretend that you, the readers, are all 5 years old:
 

Well it all starts with the surgeon using a nice, sharp “feather” to “tickle” my leg open.  He will continue to “tickle” my leg and shift muscle around until he can find my bone:
Now, I know what you’re thinking – how can I take such “tickling” without the urgent need to “laugh hysterically”?  Well that, boys and girls, is a great question!  I can take this intense “tickle” because a “funny man” put a needle in the base of my spine which makes me lose feeling from my waist down.  To be extra careful, he also puts a “tickle blocker” (read: nerve blocker) into my leg to also make sure I don’t feel anything from deep within my leg.  Even after all that, they also add lots of “happy juice” into a tube in my arm to make sure I fall asleep.  Even though I may wake up and hear certain “goings on” during the replacement process, this “happy arm juice” will make sure I have no memory of it…aren’t science and chemicals fun kids?
One more thing to add about  all of these fun things sticking/hanging out of me:  they also add another long tube into my leg to help me drain and catch all the access “gummy bears” that will be encountered during the process (NOTE:  We’ve secretly replaced Chris’ blood with “gummy bears”…let’s see if they notice).  This bag will go home with me and I will be responsible for emptying it for several days until it needs to be taken out (I call it “Mr. Thirsty”).
Anyway, on with the story…are you still with me kids?  Because now is where it gets really exciting!  So once I’m asleep, feeling nothing and fully “tickled”, it’s time to separate Mr. Femur from The Happy Pelvis.  Now keep in mind, these two bones are meant to be together forever and they never want to be split from each other…EVER!  So it’s going to take a lot of “persuasion” to get these two lifelong BFFs away from each other.  You know how when your parents want you to do something you don’t want to do like clean your room or get a booster shot or chop off your arm?  Well they will try just about anything to get you to do it including lots of candy, later bedtimes and all the television you can watch, right?  Well that’s sort of what the doctors do to get these two bones apart.  Do you remember that big word kids?  That’s right – persuasion:

Oops, sorry about that boys and girls…I guess there are images even this blog won’t show (really?!).  Instead, please enjoy this tamer picture of a stupid penguin that is about to die:

Penguins sure are silly, dumb animals aren’t they kids?

Once Mr. Femur and The Happy Pelvis are no longer friends, it’s time to take off the head of Mr. Femur.  This is done with a special lollipop that looks a lot like a bone saw:

 


Ever wonder what they do with that leftover Mr. Femur head once they cut it off?  I do too.  I asked about it a lot before this whole thing started, and all they could tell me was, “no, you can’t keep it you weirdo”.  Surgeons sure like to make you feel special don’t they kids?  Well I figured that there are starving doggies in third world countries that would love to have a bone to chew on, so I’d like to think that I am donating to helping those poor doggies enjoy a little happiness in their lives (and we’ll find out next April if that is tax deductible).
So now it’s time to make a large, deep hole down the center of the now shortened Mr. Femur.  This is done with a special drill-like tool called a…wait for it…a DRILL:

Once the hole has been drilled, it’s time use a special hammer to “pop” in the metal rod into our newly drilled hole.  This “pop” hammer looks nothing like this:

But at least it’s good imagery for our story right boys and girls?
So now that we have our hole, we have our hammer and we have our metal rod, the surgeon “gently” and “calmly” hammers the rod into place.  This is an easy task and not a hard, frustrating process whatsoever:


Once the rod is in place, the surgeon uses a GPS satellite to make sure my legs are the same length and then we’re done.  It’s time to close my “tickled” area using staples to help keep everything in place.  Where are the pictures of that?  Well, while the GPS part is pretty cool and the staples were the most cringe-worthy part of the story to most people, I have decided to leave this part short (that and I couldn’t think of anything creative to draw for them…call me lazy).
Now all I have to do is wake up.  To do this, they move me under a giant lamp that they shine in my face to make me think it’s now morning time:

It’s very important to wake up as soon as possible because it’s not good for me to stay asleep for too long.  So if the light just isn’t working, it’s time to use other measures to get my sleepy butt awake:

Once I’m finally awake, it’s time for a tantalizing meal of pretzels and ice chips.  My tummy will be pretty woozy for a while because of all the “happy arm juice” pumping through my system so it’s a good idea to eat so I can have something to throw up later.

And finally, before they send me home (yes, this was outpatient!), it’s time to meet with the surgeon one more time so he can reassure me that everything went according to plan and I should be fine:


And there you have it.  Once all of this, I head home for an afternoon/evening of sleeping, narcotics (morphine, oxycodone, and vicodin), and peeing in a Taco Bell cup because I’m too “happy” to hit the toilet from a standing position and I’m not allowed to sit down.  Sounds exciting right kids?
Maybe next time I’ll share more about what happens after I wake up, the exciting visits I had from the nurses and physical therapist and of course, more adventures down the rabbit hole with my good friends Morphy, Vicodini and The Oxy Twins.
Until then, I leave you with a final picture of Adler trying to steal my cane from me:

He loves this thing and cries when he can’t have it.  I also think he gets a kick out of watching me fall down when he yanks it out from under me.  Kids can really suck the life out of you (and have the potential to really do some physical harm)…remember to pay it forward!

-Cheers!