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Sunday, January 29, 2006

This is your attitude on drugs

I just popped over to our friend Blake’s blog to learn that his pecs are going down like a preacher’s daughter. Well Blake my dear, assuming international shipping isn’t an issue, I have some steroids your pecs may enjoy, as they are doing little for me other than making me EXTREMELY irritable. I have to take them for the swelling (which I suppose would be counter-productive for Blake’s problem), and I am not enjoying them. My phone rang once this morn, and I was so annoyed after my grandmother offering me every food known to man by 8am that I turned it off. It wasn’t until this evening that I listened to a panicky message from poor Craig. He was freaking out because I’m not e-mailing, blogging, or answering my phone. So, just for reference for everyone, I’m alive, I’m healing, but I’m also in a very foul mood off and on. I can start reducing the steroids after tomorrow, and I am sure everyone will be happier. Wouldn’t you know I’d have ‘roid rage, and still can’t get a set of six-pack abs and butt to set a cocktail on?

FYI, stealing a wi-fi signal seems to have gotten difficult, so when I’m not answering mail, it is probably because I can’t stay online for more than a couple of minutes at a time. I see my doc in the morning over near glamourous Central Park West (where I believe Mariel Hemingway had a show for about 15 minutes), so I’ll have an update on my progress by then. All I can tell at the moment is that I look like I’ve been given a lead pipe massage, and I have so much swelling and such that I cannot move my right cheek at all. At the very least, I’m hoping they will take out this drainage tube tomorrow and give me the go ahead to take a real shower. I haven’t washed my hair since Tuesday, as if it needed any more of an incentive to commit suicide by jumping off my head!

Our flight is supposed to leave NYC at 8:07am Tuesday. My family seems to think they are going to be able to kidnap me and take me to Grayson to recover. If I’m not happy recovering in the greatest city in the world, what would make someone think I’m going to be happy recovering somewhere I left as soon as I was legally able to do so? I love my family, they’ve been wonderful through this ordeal, and now I want them out of my face for a while!!! I have never appreciated Craig so much as I do now (see, now the damn roids are making me sentimental...I HATE sentimental!).

4 comments:

Dr. Buck said...

I think what you are calling "roid rage" is more than likely what I have identified as "Grayson Syndrome." With this illness, the escapees of that place's ignorant gravitational pull begin to exhibit signs of irritabilty, anger, and outright hatred upon contact with those who like it there. We then become distant and isolating in an effort to return to our normal selves. These symptoms are compounded by efforts to make us return there. It is sort of like what a cult survivor would experience upon contact with the cult after years of deprogramming. You should return to normal within 3 days of being back with normal people. However, your accent may be affected for 4 days. You may even start to have a British accent in order to distance yourself even more from the fear of returning to Grayson. You will be fine once you get back to Craig, get to bitch openly, and see some tall buildings. If that doesn't work, then pharmacological treatment with a good benzo, such as Zanax, should do the trick.

Take care,
Dr. Buck

Big Daddy aka The General said...

What the fuck?

RunePuppy said...

I think Dr Buck should be on Oprah!

Christopher said...

Dr. Buck would be far more entertaining than Dr. Phil. I believe his doctoral thesis in clinical psych had something to do with the psychological damage of growing up with Beavis and Butthead or something to that effect. Having both grown up in Grayson, we know that they weren't the guys at the back of the class, they were the class.