Dear Boss

Dear Boss, I write this note to you
to tell you of my plight,
and at the time of writing
I am not a pretty sight.
My body is all black and blue
my face a deadly gray,
and I hope you'll understand
why Paddy's not at work today.

~ excerpt from "Dear Boss" 

Irish folk song

 (Full text follows)

Well, I have been off for a while, I was a tad under the weather. Dark days indeed. 

As they say in South Africa, I had a regular monkey’s wedding-breakfast, 

meaning “a state of confusion,” 

Problem is that it lasted a few years.  

Here I am, Living the life of Maher in the hospital. 

 Most recently I went in for a liver transplant. The process started back on March 25, my first meeting with the transplant team. They wanted to evaluate me to see if they liked the cut of my jib. After a lengthy process and many tests, in July I faced the biggest hurtle of them all.  

The Voight Kampff test. 

Dr. You're in a desert, walking along in the sand, when all of a sudden you look down...
Me: What one?
Dr. What?
Me: What desert?
Dr. It doesn't make any difference what desert, it's completely hypothetical.
Me: But, how come I'd be there?
Dr. Maybe you're fed up. Maybe you want to be by yourself. Who knows? You look down and see a tortoise, Kevin. It's crawling toward you...
Me: Tortoise? What's that?
Dr. [irritated by Kevin's interruptions] You know what a turtle is?
Me: Of course!
Dr. Same thing.
Me: I've never seen a turtle... But I understand what you mean.
Dr. You reach down and you flip the tortoise over on its back, Kevin.
Me: Do you make up these questions, Mr. Holden? Or do they write 'em down for you?
Dr. The tortoise lays on its back, its belly baking in the hot sun, beating its legs trying to turn itself over, but it can't. Not without your help. But you're not helping.
Me: [angry at the suggestion] What do you mean, I'm not helping?
Dr. I mean: you're not helping! Why is that, Kevin?  

 

Somehow, I passed. 

Then not three weeks later they called me to come in. 

I went in, had dinner, went to bed and at 4:00 am two doctors woke me and said, your up, three hours from now we will see you in anesthesia. Now go back to sleep. 

 Later, one of the doctors said, "OK Kevin, think of your happy place" as he put a mask over my face. 

I thought, Happy Place? Happy place? I got your happpp  p    p         p

Eight hours later the deed was done. 

I awoke in a very large room although I could not take it vantage of it because of all the tubes and wires attached to my body and head. I had tubes going into my jugular vein, up my nose, in my arms and I had five going into my stomach. Well, not into my stomach, but through the skin and then into me. I have no idea where the far end of the tube went and didn't want to  know. Occasionally they would come in and jiggle the wires and tubes in my abdomen. After nine days they transferred me out of intensive care and put me in the general population where I stayed for two more days and then I got a reprieve and a pardon from the governor and I went home to my family my home and to convalesce. And to my dog that seems to regard me when a certain degree of circumspect.

 Micheide "Mickey Pizzaz" the tri-color dog, that recently broke my left shoulder
\
 

Eleven days later I emerged from Hershey, new liver and all. 

Eventually the pain ebbed, and I am on the road to recovery. All and all, I met the best team of Doctors, Nurses, support staff around. Well, I'm still here, so there is that.

For the last few years I have been in constant pain, seriously, all day, all night. Everything hurt. It was getting tedious constantly worrying about what might happen, never knowing for sure what would happen next, constantly worrying about what IF [this happens] and BUT [what if the insurance rejects my claim, or what if]

 IFs

and BUTs...

Well if IF's and BUT's were

Candy and nuts every day would be Christmas

Quite an experience to live in pain and fear, isn't it?

* Dear Boss

Dear Boss, I write this note to you
to tell you of my plight,
and at the time of writing
I am not a pretty sight.
My body is all black and blue
my face a deadly gray,
and I hope you'll understand
why Paddy's not at work today.
I was workin' on the 14th floor,
some bricks I had to clear.
And throwin' 'em down from such a height
was not a good idea.
The foreman wasn't pleasant,
he being an awful sot,
and he said I'd have to take them down the ladder in my hod.
Well, clearing all these bricks by hand
it was so awful slow.
So I hoisted up a barrel
and secured a rope below.
But in my haste to do the job
I was too blind to see
that a barrel full of building bricks
was heavier than me.
So I went down to cut the rope
and the barrel fell like lead.
And clinging tightly to the rope
I started up instead.
I shot up like a rocket
and to my surprise I found
that halfway up
I met the bloody barrel comin' down.
Well the barrel struck my shoulder
as to the ground it sped.
And when I reached the top,
I hit the pulley with my head.
I spun around all stunned and shocked
from this almighty blow,
while the barrel spilled out half the bricks
fourteen floors below.
Now when these bricks had fallen
from the barrel to the floor,
I then outweighed the barrel and
I started down once more.
Still clinging tightly to the rope
I headed towards the ground
and fell upon the building bricks
that were all scattered round.
Now as I lay there quietly,
I thought I'd passed the worst.
When the barrel hit the pulley
and then the bottom burst!
A shower of bricks fell down on me
I hadn't got a hope,
and as I was losing consciousness,
I let go the bloody rope.
Well the barrel, now being heavier
it started down once more.
Struck across me smartly
as I lie there on the floor.
It broke some ribs and my left arm
and I can only say
that I hope you'll understand
why Paddy's not at work today.