The Shit Never Ends

For the past few years, I’ve been dealing with some personal health issues. And, to be honest, not insignificant ones.

These past few weeks, an unusual side effect decided to play its hand and become a major pain in my ass – well, in my head, to be more precise.  I went through all the targeted radiation treatments I was allowed to ever do in a human lifetime – 40 in 52 days. That seemed to be helpful, but only to a point, and sucked in a way I just don’t want to ever describe again.

Then, I was injected with some crap they dubbed ‘Androgen Deprivation Therapy,’ which turned me into a moody, hot-flash-laden emotional puddle. That too was about as much fun as it was successful in dealing with the tumours that were chewing away at my undecarriage.

The next great period in my life was an endless parade of pills that overpromised and underperformed, leaving me no further ahead and bored out of my mind with this entire tedious process. The only good news was that I was still here, and aside from the occasional swift kick in the nuts, I was kind of chugging along with my dangling sword and my man boobs.

Oh, the good olde days.

Enter the latest bullshit: a never-ending headache that felt like a Black and Decker drill to the left temple.

It started randomly during the Chinese New Year Holidays and through self-medication ( I am a guy, after all), over-the-counter drugs (which are surprisingly strong here), doctor visits, MRIs, prescribed medications, emergency room visits, serious opioid injections, and a wife who was convinced it was somehow ultimately my fault, it NEVER STOPPED!

NEVER.

TWO F***ING MONTHS!

So that finally got me checked into the hospital in a proper way.

In my life, I’ve gone through some interesting physical ordeals, and so I’ve experienced quite a few things most people have not. I have a pretty extensive checklist I can bust out when a bunch of dumbasses are sitting around like that scene in Jaws, comparing their dumbass stories.

Now, I’ve got a few more.

MRIs, PET Scans, CT Scans, puh-lease. Kids’ stuff. Too many to count. Radiation? Duh…

Broken bones? I always forget a few.

Those open-heart or transplant surgery bastards are always hard to beat, but I counter with spinal surgery and up it with the time they had to shove these needles through the side of my butt (my glutes) all the way into my spine, to inject some stuff into my discs to fill them back up after I had ruptured two of them. All EIGHT needles, I mention, no anesthetic of any kind. I mention that crunching sound the needles made inside my head as they were slowly shoved into my body, and how it was worse THE SECOND time they had to do it two weeks later. It doesn’t beat a full-on transplant, but it keeps me in the game.

I added a couple of new ones this time. The first was a spinal tap, which was administered by the most attractive neurosurgeon I have ever met. She was quite pleasant, very professional, and alarmingly beautiful. I can only imagine how much harder it made everything for her. Selfishly, it made it more pleasant for me.

The next was an EEG. I’ve had lots of EKGs, but this was another box I could check off. Completely painless, so very low on the dumbass index, but man, was it sketchy in a whole different way.

First off, the doctor who administered the test was a tiny woman and very, very chatty. She talked endlessly about how different it was to attach the 23 electrodes to men, women (most women have longer hair here), children, and, in a depressing twist, babies.

Once we were ready to go, I had to stare at this increasingly bright, flashing light pointed directly in my face while she shouted at me to open my eyes, close my eyes, look in a specific direction, all the while randomly clapping her hands really loudly and scaring the crap out of me. 

She didn’t speak English, but she knew “open, close, up, down, left, and right,” but half the time, she would forget to speak English, and she would shout it in Chinese instead, so I had to be constantly on my toes because I was terrified of what this mousey woman would do if I got it wrong!

The entire process was completely painless but psychologically very stressful! I’m man enough to admit to being shook for the rest of the afternoon.

It’s been 5 days. We’re no closer to figuring out why my head may explode. Cancer is still kicking my ass, but in slow motion. The only things that seem to have been accomplished are that I’ve caught up on my emails and added a few stories to my dumbass list. 

And oh yeah, all you guys who have had heart transplants, just stay home. Heart transplant stories just aren’t funny.