The Sneeze of Death & Chapstick

Before we dig in to todays gourmet post. Let me take a minute to tell you about my good friend Brent.

Brent is a super guy I met while volunteering for the Special Olympics a couple of years back and we’ve stayed in touch ever since…. Brent is super stoked he just recently got a job at McDonald’s and even though he recently hurt his leg and required surgery to repair the damage, he’s been making friends with everyone he meets. He’s a sweet guy and sent me this picture of him and a guest on his first day of work. Brent my friend, some people call you special – it’s true you are, you’ll always be special to me, keep up the great work and good luck with the Job… there that’s how you know you’ve made it, I talked about you in my blog…. now you’re famous…


My Friend Brent's First Day of Work at McDonald's... way to go buddy....

OK well, the overwhelming response was hell yeah, keep the health stuff coming – it surprised me a little bit, I mean obviously I am the Hemingway of whiny, poor me autobiographical nonsense but to have the field respond unanimously was gratifying. I still don’t understand why so many of you are reluctant to have your names put out there in the comments – but as always, I respect your wishes. Ask and ye shall receive, brothers and sisters….

Pain, I assume you are familiar with the sensation. Let’s do a quick experiment that you can try in the privacy of your own homes, take your top lip and have a friend pull it down and tuck it under your feet, then while standing on your lip, have your friend staple it to your Achilles heel. Even if you could manage to do it, firstly – please send me a picture and secondly, it would feel like puppies frolicking in a spring meadow compared to the gnashing of teeth and rendering of hair, the mortal combat I was locked in for my very soul – me, the gentle innocent against the forces of darkness and despair… Yes well, I had been doing quite well – but occasionally the overly dramatic will rear its ugly head…. heh, heh, I said rear… heh…

Given the duality of being in the hospital, it at once being both, comfortable and exceptionally uncomfortable – it’s not until you are free, clear and away does reality land squarely on your face. At home, there are no special high toilets, or chairs, the bed is flat, and try as I might the bloody bed will not raise, nor will the SOB leg section raise up. On top of all that, when I push the button – repeatedly, furiously might I add, a Nurse does not show up, ever…. I have blisters on both thumbs from wailing on that call button. Turns out I was pushing a tube of chapstick, but lost in my blizzard of pain was completely unaware….. actually, come to think of it, my thumbs did smell of cherry…


We briefly discussed renting one of those electric beds for a couple of weeks, but I was in no shape for sex….I mean, ahem, what?…. The easiest place to sit and sleep turned out to be my big Lazyboy recliner, it rocked so I could use momentum to get up ALMOST by myself, plus it reclined to an almost flat configuration. So for the next couple of weeks it was to become my bed. I don’t like my chair nearly as much as I used to…. I’m sick of it, on the positive side if anyone ever needs an exact replica of my butt cheeks they can get a plaster cast directly off the chair. Act now folks and shipping is free.

Another sneaky little thing that jumped up and bit me was adjusted to food, I wasn’t used to there being any taste, the hospital food, came everyday, three times a day, and it always LOOKED different from the previous meal but somehow, it all seemed to taste like a slightly warm oat porridge. The meat, the veg, milk, apple juice, bread, everything except – the Jello. Of course I’ve jumped on the exaggeration train again, but seriously – there was some adjustment required – even simple spice and flavour took getting used to. Although I wasn’t all that hungry and for those first couple of days home, I slept quite a lot. Now that I was moving around far more than I had in the hospital, there was a whole bunch of coughing going on…. Again, bad bad times, very painful. The incision had closed and there was no bleeding for two days in the hospital and then 1 day at home BUT – then, it happened, I sneezed and ripped open the bottom of the incision. It started bleeding and continued for three days, pooling in the bottom of the wound and creating a big chunk’o scab.

This was a minor set back but only minor… it would postpone my getting back to competitive show jumping, but nothing could be done about it…..


Those first couple of days were rough, I was slow (insert your own joke here) sore and not able to do very much of anything. I was like my sister…. ha ha ha poking fun at your siblings, one of life’s great pleasures….

That’s a wrap for today, Have a Great Day….