See…Cinlach DOES have a heart!

On Monday, November 13th, I woke up with a little discomfort in my chest. I chalked it up to simply sleeping wrong or straining it somehow during the previous day and proceeded to go on to work.

During the morning and early afternoon, the discomfort in my chest became worse and steadily turned into a strong feeling of intense pressure in my sternum. It started to lessen around lunchtime so I ordered some pizza. Afterwards the pressure and discomfort intensified and new symptoms started to rear their ugly little heads. I began feeling pain in my ribs which migrated up into my upper back and shoulders, tightening in my jaw, and my right arm hand started going numb.

Now I might not be the smartest fella in this particular zip code, but I know enough to know that any combination of a couple of the above symptoms is worthy of serious attention…much less all of them all at once.

Knowing I had to tell someone, I went to Sappy Chick, who works with me, and said,

“Yo…I could be having a problem here biotch!”

She strongly recommended that I call my doctor immediately, and so I did.

I explained my symptoms to the nurse that answered the phone and she uttered the words that I knew I’d be hearing.

“Sir, I really think you need to go to the Emergency Room…now.”

Well isn’t that spec-fucking-tacular.

I trudged back to Sappy Chick’s desk and drop the bombshell, it appears I’ll be going to the hospital and checking myself into the Emergency Room. We get our shit together and head off to Greenville Memorial. It’s just a little before 4pm.

Of course, once we’re on the road to the Emergency Room my symptoms almost completely disappear. Which is God’s perverse sense of humor at work…or so I believe anyway. It’s the same phenomenon that causes your car to make a god-awful grinding sound for 3 days straight only to have it miraculously cease the moment you pull into a auto mechanic for service.

We finally arrive at Greenville Memorial Hospital and I register at the front desk, stating my complaints. We then attempt to find a seat in the ER lobby. I say “attempt” because the place was absolutely packed to the rafters with sick motherfuckers of every shape, size, and description. There were people on beds in the hallways, and a dude puking in the bathroom…so yeah, it was kinda bad

Much to my relief, if you wander into the ER of a local hospital complaining of chest pains and exhibiting heart attack symptoms they get to you pretty fucking quick. Sappy Chick and I sat in the lobby for only about 5 or 10 minutes before we were called back to the Triage area. After answering all sorts of questions involving my medical history, and ascribing numeral values to my pain level (It’s a 2 now and was about a 6 earlier), we were given a private room in the “Chest Pain Area”.

Once in my room, the nurse asks me to take my shirt off (easy ladies…there’s no need to shove. There’s plenty of Daddy to go around.) and I climb onto what had to have been the most uncomfortable bed in the history of man. I’m not kidding, it was like laying on a piece of plywood covered in vinyl. This bed was to be the bane of my backside for the next few hours.

Another nurse (henceforth known as “Abdullah the Butcher”) arrives to hook me up to the heart monitors and start my EKG. In order to attach the 10 or 12 EKG electrodes to my chest I’m told she’s going to need to shave spots on my chest. With thoughts of that horrific scene from The 40 Year Old Virgin fresh in my mind, I reluctantly submitted to being sheared like a human sheep. She slaps on the electrodes, hooks me up to a heart monitor, wraps a blood pressure cuff tightly around my upper forearm (that’ll be important later), and sticks an oxygen sensor on the first finger of my left hand.

I knew it was just a matter of time before I was introduced to the business end of a needle and I didn’t have to wait long for it to happen. Unfortunately for me I had Nurse Abdullah the Butcher as opposed to someone who didn’t suck ass at drawing blood. Nurse Abdullah informed me she was going to be drawing 5 vials of blood from my person this evening and she was ready to get it done. I timidly stuck my right hand out as she requested and looked away like the giant pussy I am. Folks, that woman then proceeded to poke and prod me in such a manner that I thought was specifically reserved for torture victims or prisoners scheduled for death by lethal injection. It was excruciating.

I found out later that Nurse Abdullah put the needle in, wasn’t getting the blood flow she wanted and decided to move the needle around…WHILE IT WAS STILL INSIDE MY SOFT PINK FUCKING HAND FLESH! I’m literally on the verge of tears and just about to pass out when I finally hear Abdullah say,

“Well, I think that’ll be enough, but I might have to come back and get some more though.”

Oh great…so I’ll get to be tortured by you again. This is SOOOO my fucking night. Carla told me once we were home that she could see the needle protruding out the top of my hand while Nurse Abdullah attempted to draw the blood she needed. It’s seven days later and I STILL have an extremely tender yellowish-purple bruise larger then a silver dollar on the top of my right hand.

After Nurse Abdullah leaves, I ask Sappy Chick for a cold rag to put on my head because I’m literally moments away from yakking all down the front of my fancy new hospital gown. I then lay quietly trying to compose myself and not engage in an involuntary personal protein spill all while fighting to not pass out.

After the blood drawing trauma, I’d just managed to get comfortable and control my heaving insides when I hear a machine start up and the blood pressure cuff on my right bicep begins to inflate. It inflates, inflates, inflates some more, and then inflated a little more just to be a pain in the ass. The blood pressure cuff would inflate so tightly that I could see veins popping up in my right arm and it made my still stinging right hand throb.

So we sat there, Sappy Chick and I, listening to the EKG monitor, the periodic attacks from the killer blood pressure pump and watching TV. It’s now 6pm.

The doctor finally comes in and asks how I’m doing, I tell him that I’d much rather be home if all things were considered but I’m feeling much better then I did earlier in the day. We go over my symptoms and he gives me a quick examination (which for some reason included taking my shoes off and feeling my feet…I did draw the line at pinching his nipples though). Somewhat dejected, the doctor tells me the EKG is completely normal and says that he thinks I’ve got acid reflux. Regardless of his suspicions, he’s still duty bound to have all manner of tests and procedures performed on my guinea pig ass until every possibility has been explored.

As he’s leaving, Nurse Abdullah the Butcher returns and verifies that yes, she’s going to be needing more blood. Luckily for me, she isn’t going to be drawing it right then (I suspect she was relishing the thought of making me sweat while I dreaded it) and she sits a strange medical instrument on the counter next to Sappy Chick. This was apparently being used to test some of the blood she managed to forcibly remove from me earlier.

Nurse Abdullah leaves the machine with us and it sat by Sappy Chick, quietly humming to itself. Soon enough it began beeping excitedly and Abdullah returned to retrieve it. I began to ask some questions:

ME : “So…what’s that telling you…a brother sure could use some information here”

NURSE ABDULLAH : “Oh everything’s fine…this test came back negative for heart enzymes”

I took it to mean a lack of “heart enzymes” was a good thing…I still have no idea what part these “heart enzymes” played in this whole equation. But as long as it’s good news I was willing to accept it. She leaves and I immediately begin dreading her return.

Nurse Abdullah the Butcher pops back in a few minutes later and thrusts a small paper cup of a green, thick substance in my hands.

NURSE ABDULLAH : “Drink this…”

She then turns to leave. Now, maybe it’s a character flaw or simply a desire to be in control at all times, but this sort of scenario just does not work for me. I need a lot more information first…such as :

ME : “What is it?”

NURSE ABDULLAH : “It’s philashutupandfuckingtakeitalready.”

ME : “What’s it for?”

NURSE ABDULLAH : “It’s for the acid reflux you’ve been diagnosed with.”

After she’s answered all my questions to my satisfaction, I allow her to leave. I know what I’m about to swallow isn’t going to be pleasant and I was not disappointed. It tasted like Pepto Bismol with Rolaids, Tums, and Alka Seltzer crushed up into it…nasty. A few minutes later I notice that my tongue feels funny, as do my lips and throat. They feel like they’re going numb and I’m beginning to have trouble swallowing. I, fool that I am, become slightly alarmed at this unexpected turn of events. Nurse Abdullah comes back and I tell her what’s going on. She tells me that it’s supposed to do that because it contains a numbing agent. Well now we see why I asked so many questions when I was handed this shit in the first place…no one said ANYTHING about numbing my tongue and throat. How dare I become alarmed? For all I knew I was allergic to the shit and my throat was closing off.

Nurse Abdullah returns about an hour later to extract more of my blood with a dull, 3 inch thick PVC tube. She decides to spread the love and attack my left arm this time, inexplicably at the inside bend of my elbow as opposed to the top of my right hand. As she jams the needle into yet another of my veins, she ends up placing my left hand squarely in contact with her right breast. I mean…uncomfortably so…I seriously think I might need sexual assault counselling now.

As my sweet precious red blood fills her vials, Nurse Abdullah jokes :

“Maybe I’ll get all the blood I need this time”

I politely, but firmly, tell her :

“You’d better get extra because this is my last visit from Mr. Hypodermic Needle”

She takes another 3 or 4 vials (making it 8 or 9 for the night) and shuffles off to torment some other poor, heart-attack suffering bastard. But not before spilling my blood all over the sheets of my bed. Classy.

It’s now 8pm and I’ve got to pee so bad that I can almost literally taste it. An orderly arrives to take me off for a chest xray and I manage to impress upon him the seriousness of my bursting bladder. He tells me where the bathroom is (located about 20 feet down the hall to the left) but says he has to get a wheelchair in order to take me there.

So you know what happens right? While he’s getting the wheelchair I walk on my own to the toilet and have the most glorious pee experience I think I’ve ever had. Homeboy doesn’t look happy when I walk out of the bathroom but fuck him…I sure feel happier.

The orderly rolls my infirmed ass down to the xray machine and I get irradiated a couple of times and then a different nurse wheels me back and reattaches all my electrodes and gizmo’s again.

It’s now 9pm…Sappy Chick and I settle in to watch Heroes.

A new Doctor arrives and goes over all the tests they’ve run so far and tells me the results of each…all normal. She tells us they’re getting together all my discharge paperwork and we should be on our way home in about an hour. This is almost enough to make me cry…seriously, I really want to go home now.

At 10:15, a new nurse arrives (Abdullah is either busy torturing another patient or I’m just finally getting lucky) with my paperwork and helps get me unhooked from all the myriad machines I’ve been monitored by for the last 7 hours. As she leaves, I begin trying to remove the EKG paddles stuck all over my body. It takes me about 20 minutes to remove them all because they seem to want to take my SKIN with them when they’re removed. Considering that I’m fond of my skin, it takes me awhile to convince them to let go and leave it with me. Because I need it more then they do.

I finally get all the fucking demonic EKG paddles removed and we walk to the discharge desk. We pay $100 downpayment for services rendered, and with paperwork for my doctor in hand, make our way out to the car. This is the highlight of my day.

We stopped and got a light supper on the way home since neither of us had eaten anything since about 11am…McDonald’s French Fries are the bomb.

We get home, I get undressed and fall into what can only be described as coma.

I was still sore for a couple of days and aside from the bald spots on my chest, the horrendous bruise on my right hand and the small, nickel sized one on my left arm from the second blood drawing I was no worse for wear.

I tried to get the xrays of my heart so I could taken them to work at post them up at my desk.

I’d finally be able to prove beyond a shadow of a doubt that yes…I do actually have a heart. It’s right there in full black and white. So suck on that!

As it stands though, you’ll just have to take my word for it…my heart actually exists and it’s not black as coal nor is it two-sizes too small.

Ted Haggard, Professional Hypocrite…

So by now I’m sure you’ve all heard about the trials and tribulations of former Evangelical leader, Ted Haggard.

Now I don’t want to alarm anyone, but apparantly Ted Haggard, a staunch anti-homosexuality advocate and rabid Bible thumper, is actually a fucking hypocrite who’s not only been involved with a male prostitute but has purchased methamphetamines on a semi-regular basis.

This “shocking” discovery resulted in his being summarily dismissed from his duties as leader of the 30 million member Evangelical denomination and is sure to hurt the box office for the film Jesus Camp which shows him teaching children the same intolerance and bigotry in the name of God that he’s been teaching their hate-mongering mothers and fathers.

Personally, I think this is just about the funniest fucking thing I’ve had the pleasure of hearing about in quite a long time. In all seriousness…am I the only person who’s NOT surprised by this at all?

More then likely, Ted was indoctrinated into the Christian dogma at an early age, before his sexual desires began to manifest themselves. He was taught that all gay men were abominations in the sight of the Lord and pursued his discrimination against them with all the fervor his little brainwashed mind could muster.

Then, one day, he felt that first attraction to a member of his own sex and slowly but surely it dawned on him that he was the very thing he most hated…and it scared the living shit out of him.

He chose to hide this “horrible secret” behind a facade of intolerance, cruelty and malice. All the while hating himself for being the very thing he despised.

It’s a classic scenario folks…Adolf Hitler’s persecution of the Jews in Germany was caused by his own fear that he might be of Jewish descent. This isn’t exactly new and you don’t have to look very hard in history to see things like this pop up over and over again…so no, I sincerely was not surprised that Ted Haggard was a closeted, self-loathing, and self-destructive gay man hiding behind Jesus and the Church to escape notice from society.

The other thing I loved about this was watching Jerry Falwell and Pat Robertson immediately distance themselves from Haggard after he got outed by the male prostitute. Here’s my question to Robertson and Falwell…whatever happened to “love the sinner, but hate the sin”? Didn’t you fellas bother to read that big fancy book of yours? More then likely, they’ve distanced themselves from Haggard because they’re terrified someone might think they’re gay too…now wouldn’t that be awful for them?

I’d like to take this moment to point out that in the Bible, Jesus surrounded himself with sinners because he said that the saved don’t need salvation. As I remember it, no one ever accused Jesus of being gay, even though he traveled around with 12 other dudes all the time.

By the way, in my mind this male prostitute is the most moral and ethical person in the whole bunch. Because once he found out who Ted Haggard was, and what he stood for, he exposed him, and by extension himself, to the entire world. I find that action to be far more admirable then anything else Pat Robertson or Jerry Falwell has ever done in their entire miserable fucking lives. Of course it was probably motivated by financial gain as well…I mean after all he’s all about getting paid.

I wonder how Haggard might try and talk his way out of this little pickle. I mean, it’s inevitable that he’ll blame this on an outside source which was out of his control…Satan perhaps. That guy get’s blamed for everything! But seriously, Jimmy Swaggert did it, Jim Bakker did it, so it’s just a matter of time before Ted Haggard gives it a shot too. I mean, why should his shortcomings be his fault?

In my opinion, I think he should try this tactic…this whole thing was all just an elaborate fact-finding mission into the nature of homosexuality and drug abuse.

See what happened was this…Haggard felt he had to see what the sin he’d spent the better part of his life preaching against was actually all about. Ted decided that no one should lead out of ignorance, so all this was done so he could experience these sins first-hand and therefore better arm his congregation to combat them in the future. How was he supposed to provide the proper moral guidance to his flock of followers about the dangers of drugs and homosexual activity, unless he exposed himself to those very dangers? Know thy enemy indeed!

Anyway, regardless of the outcome, anything that makes these self-righteous, hate-mongering, close-minded, zealots look like clueless, stumbling, dickheads is just fine in my book.

Homosexuality is not a choice…period. As a man, I didn’t choose to be attracted to women, I just was. No one chooses their sexual identity…they simply are who they are. Who someone sleeps with, or how they get their freak on has nothing to do with the content of their character or the “worthiness” of their existence. Anyone who tells you otherwise is doing so out of fear, misunderstanding, or a secret self-hatred of the pathetic lie they call their life.

By the way Ted, how does it feel motherfucker! Now you’re going to be the one who’s reviled and discriminated against by the religious right and our conservative-controlled Government. I hope you enjoy the experience because it’s so richly deserved and very much long overdue.

Karma is a fucking bitch Ted…and it couldn’t happen to a more deserving individual.