shanmonster | Big Organs, Big Fish, and Big Bikes

f00 is the John Holmes of appendices. Where most people have an appendix about two inches in length, his was about five or six inches long. As a result, the surgery took longer and the incision was significantly larger than anticipated. However, his recovery time has been much shorter than for other folks. It looks like he'll be kicked out of the hospital today, just one day after his surgery.

He was walking around last night, and pissing in a toilet instead of a bedpan. It's a good thing, too. From all the fluids he's been taking in, I think he'd need King Kong's bedpan to accomodate the Niagra Falls of piss coming out of him. He was taken off IV today, and sits in his bed wearing ugly sweatpants, constantly sipping on ice water. He thinks he's going to play D&D tonight, but I don't think he should. Laughing tears at the stapled-shut hole in his side, and I don't think he should be taking too many stairs for a couple of days. He thinks otherwise, though. In the end, he'll do what he wants to do, because he's a stubborn ass.

I spent yesterday doing something very uncharacteristic. I went fishing and canoeing with my father and sister out in the wilderness. I haven't done this in well over ten years, and I really enjoyed myself. I caught two trout (one nice and big and fat, and the other one pretty small), and I'm planning on eating them for supper tonight. While out on the water, I heard a bear bawling somewhere in the distance. Dead spruce trees stuck out of the water all around, and the chirps of frogs and peepers rang out through the air. Mosquitos and blackflies filled the air, but my bug dope was pretty good stuff, and they mostly ignored me. Every now and then, a frog would stare at me with beady eyes. I tried to pick one up with my paddle, but he hopped away in terror before freezing in place a few inches away.

I almost dunked Dad. When we got out of the canoe, I pulled it up onto the shore a bit so he could get out, but pulled it further than I meant. The canoe rocked back and forth treacherously, and a bunch of water soared in over the edge. Dad's eyes got big and wild, and he flailed to keep his balance. I managed to steady the boat in time so he didn't sail overboard.

Now I want to go fishing again with my sister, but I need to find someone who wants to go with us during the week. Both of us are embarassingly squeamish about pulling the hooks out of a fish. Yeah, it's pathetic, I know. If I go fishing, I should have sufficient balls to do the dirty work, but I don't. And neither does she. So we need someone who's fine with that sort of thing. I'm sure I'd do it if I absolutely had to, though.

This morning, I met up with Darryl from Duluth. A few years ago, I used to chat with him on an ex-JW forum, but then we lost touch with one another. But he's motorcycling up through Canada for his vacation, and he stayed in Fredericton overnight. We met for a few minutes this morning. I'm awfully glad he got my description of myself over the phone, because I somehow misheard his description of himself in a big, big way. I told him I'd be wearing a red cycling helmet. I heard him say he was a big guy in leather driving a yellow van.

So I showed up at the Tim Horton's where I'd be meeting him and waited and waited for a yellow van. I didn't ever see one. But then a big guy in leather approached me. He was driving a big black and blue Harley! How on earth did I ever confuse a yellow van with a black and blue Harley? I'm totally on the smack.

Anyhow, he's a really nice guy, and I'm sorry we didn't get to chat any longer. I had to leave after maybe twenty minutes, though. Mom had arranged to drive me up to the hospital, and I didn't want to keep her waiting and unaware of my location. So Darryl and I shook hands, and he hopped back on his hog to make his way to Prince Edward Island. I hope it doesn't piss rain on him. It looks like it's shaping up to be a cold, rainy day.