Thursday, August 22, 2002
So, Melissa headed out yesterday for the wilds of Tennessee via Indiana. The first night she was gone I did what was expected of me...I went gambling at the Drift On Inn. Won $200 which, unfortunately, was not enough to buy me a ticket to SF for Bobby's birthday. You all do know it's his birthday today, right? Don't forget to send him a birthday greeting. Oh, and that guide to gambling that he's reading right now? A present from yours truly.
Reading through John Galvin's blog today I noticed a post from Monday where he namechecked Harmonium. For those of you who haven't spent much time in smalltown Quebec, Harmonium was a 70s-era prog rockish affair, a sort of Francophone Supertramp, whom I had never heard or heard of until I spent a summer taking a French immersion course in Trois Rivieres, a town that stank from top to bottom from the local pulp and paper mill. The first time I heard them it was the end of a night of dancing at the local cheesy nightclub. Suddenly this epic song with an anthemic chorus boomed out and all the locals - I mean all - began singing along: "On a mis quelqu'un au monde/On devrait peut-être l'écouter," repeat ad infinitum. The other Anglos and I watched with great amusement at this shared enjoyment of a song we'd never heard (later I would learn it was the classic Un Musicien Parmi Tant D'autres from their first album) and it was at that moment that I really knew I was in an alien culture.
Anyway, I knew that Galvin was up on music but never would I have dreamt that anyone in Boston was into Harmonium. Of course, there is the chance he was referring to this band.
Anyway, I knew that Galvin was up on music but never would I have dreamt that anyone in Boston was into Harmonium. Of course, there is the chance he was referring to this band.
Tuesday, August 20, 2002
I went in for a biopsy and came out with an earache.
It’s all a big laugh now that I’ve got a new lease on life (well, not so much a lease as a month-to-month arrangement). But a week ago, driving to the hospital with Mel first thing in the morning, I was scared beyond belief, scared witless if not shitless. Didn’t have to wait too long in reception, thankfully, but then the nurse brought me back into a room, stuck me in an examination chair, and told me the doctor hadn't made it in yet, just relax and read a magazine. Yeah, great. He finally strolls in ten minutes later, sporting a golf-course tan and a pinky ring. He's an ear, nose, and throat guy so the first thing he does is stick that doctor's flashlight thingy into my ears to have a peek. The next I thing I know, he's jamming some kind of forceps into my right ear and, man, it fucking HURTS, I nearly jump out of my chair from the pain. But he's proudly displaying the hunk of earwax he's pulled out of my ear, apparently unaware of the agony he's just inflicted on me. Then he finally gets around to looking in my mouth. He smells like Old Spice...well, what I imagine it smells like. He pokes around then says he's not sure, that there's two possible things the dentist might have seen, that he needs to talk to her. Now he leads me out of the examination room, over to the receptionist, we start flipping through phonebooks looking for my dentist's number. First the yellow pages, then the white pages, nothing, no number for her. My ear is still hurting like hell, I'm tired from lack of sleep and lack of coffee, and now this bumbling oaf is making me look through phonebooks. Jesus. Anyway, finally I remember that I have her card in my wallet and he calls but she's with another patient and is going to call back. So I'm waiting again. And now I've been there about 40 minutes, poor Mel is in the waiting room not knowing what is going on, my ear is throbbing, etc.
Finally, fucking finally, the dentist calls back and consults with the doctor and now he's ready to do the biopsy. He shoots up my gums with anaesthetic and reaches in with some kind of scissors and snip snip on either side of my mouth and I'm done.
That night my ear still hurts and I'm seriously considering a malpractice suit. But it feels better the next day and the day after that I receive the happy news that I'm not dying and by the next day I'm ready to laugh about it all.
It’s all a big laugh now that I’ve got a new lease on life (well, not so much a lease as a month-to-month arrangement). But a week ago, driving to the hospital with Mel first thing in the morning, I was scared beyond belief, scared witless if not shitless. Didn’t have to wait too long in reception, thankfully, but then the nurse brought me back into a room, stuck me in an examination chair, and told me the doctor hadn't made it in yet, just relax and read a magazine. Yeah, great. He finally strolls in ten minutes later, sporting a golf-course tan and a pinky ring. He's an ear, nose, and throat guy so the first thing he does is stick that doctor's flashlight thingy into my ears to have a peek. The next I thing I know, he's jamming some kind of forceps into my right ear and, man, it fucking HURTS, I nearly jump out of my chair from the pain. But he's proudly displaying the hunk of earwax he's pulled out of my ear, apparently unaware of the agony he's just inflicted on me. Then he finally gets around to looking in my mouth. He smells like Old Spice...well, what I imagine it smells like. He pokes around then says he's not sure, that there's two possible things the dentist might have seen, that he needs to talk to her. Now he leads me out of the examination room, over to the receptionist, we start flipping through phonebooks looking for my dentist's number. First the yellow pages, then the white pages, nothing, no number for her. My ear is still hurting like hell, I'm tired from lack of sleep and lack of coffee, and now this bumbling oaf is making me look through phonebooks. Jesus. Anyway, finally I remember that I have her card in my wallet and he calls but she's with another patient and is going to call back. So I'm waiting again. And now I've been there about 40 minutes, poor Mel is in the waiting room not knowing what is going on, my ear is throbbing, etc.
Finally, fucking finally, the dentist calls back and consults with the doctor and now he's ready to do the biopsy. He shoots up my gums with anaesthetic and reaches in with some kind of scissors and snip snip on either side of my mouth and I'm done.
That night my ear still hurts and I'm seriously considering a malpractice suit. But it feels better the next day and the day after that I receive the happy news that I'm not dying and by the next day I'm ready to laugh about it all.
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