Blood Sucks - Conclusion

I’m waiting for the doctor and am thinking I will need some kind of surgery. Shit, am I going to find out that there is something major wrong with me? (I tend to be a hypochondriac occasionally. I got into a car accident once and hit my sternum and it hurt for weeks. I honestly thought I had sternum cancer, which there is no such thing as.) Then I’m thinking what if I die from this? I don’t have a will, so my cats will end up homeless.

I keep waiting for the doctor, still bleeding from my ass and still worrying to no extent. “What is wrong with me? Is this my last night on earth? Fuck, I got her some nice presents and I won’t even be able to see her expression on her face when she opens them. Damn, the doctor better get in here fast or I’m going to have a heart attack!”

So the doctor finally gets into see me and I think he is alarmed by the site of the blood, from my paranoia. He has me lay on my stomach and looks up my ass. “Is there any pain, Steve?” I don’t know what to say, even though there isn’t. Maybe a yes will change the situation. It will make things clearer and validate that I’m doing ok. But I need to be honest with him. I tell him, ‘No pain, which is odd because there is so much blood.”

“Well even though you are bleeding so much and there is no pain, which usually accompanies your condition, you have nothing to worry about. It is just a hemorrhoid. I’m going to put some gauze up there and when it clots, you are fine to go home.”

So I was on the bed with my girlfriend next to me. For three hours, on my stomach, in an ugly fucking hospital robe with a huge cotton ball up my ass! Nothing major, nothing drastic, it was nothing to worry about. It was something that a stool softener and salve will take care of. All the worry was gone, even when I kept seeing blood. Once you know where the blood is coming from, everything is fine. But before that moment, blood sucks!

Blood Sucks - Part 4

Let’s go back to Christmas Eve night. I am really worried because I have no idea what is wrong with me. So I go online. We all know the information highway has the answer to everything. I go to Web MD and type “Bloody Stool” into the web search box. Now, I don’t have “Bloody Stool” but figure that can lead me in the right direction. I see a listing for “Bright Red Blood,” which I have. The answer says “Hemorrhoids” or a bigger internal problem. Well seeing that I am in no pain, I figure the latter is the answer. Blood, blood and more blood started to run down my leg. And by now I am going crazy, thinking I’m going to die because I have something wrong with my insides.

Now I call my girlfriend and tell her I need to go to the Emergency Room. She asks me what is wrong, and I was hesitant to answer at first, because it is embarrassing. Finally I tell her, “My ass is bleeding!” She says, “What?” And I repeat to her, “My ass is bleeding and it is bleeding a lot.” Now she starts to worry and I have to go back online to find out what Hospital is covered by my insurance.

Now what really suck was that it was Christmas Eve and we had planned to spend a nice night together. We were going to have a nice dinner, I had bought green and red Christmas tree pasta, have some nice wine, open presents and then I was going to make my family’s traditional Christmas dessert, Cherries Jubilee. But instead she has to pick up her boyfriend who is hemorrhaging from his anus and take him to the fucking Emergency Room!

So we get to the Emergency Room and I tell the guy at the desk that my ass is bleeding. That thought of blood, blood and more blood flashes through his mind. His reply to me is, “Oh, it is either hemorrhoids or a prostate spring.” The blood threw this guy off and made him worry. I mean if I walked in and told him I had a gerbil up my ass he would have been fine. He would have given me a Habitrail and told me to wait for the doctor!

Fuck, I’m thinking to myself. Prostate, colon or some other internal organ is screwed up. All from the blood! I finally get in the waiting room and put on one of those ugly hospital robes. As I discard my clothes, I look at my jeans and see a huge blood stain on the back. (That really sucked because they were brand new.) Then I look at my boxers, my Christmas boxers with little Santa Clauses on them and they are covered. My thighs, my balls were totally covered too. I see all this blood and I can feel my heart beat and blood pressure rising to record levels, higher than an illiterate’s S.A.T. scores. And why, because of my fear of the crimson tide!

To be continued...

Blood Sucks - Part 3

I had a very scary situation with blood about six or seven years ago. Every once in awhile after you take a crap, you might wipe a little bit too hard. It may be you or it might have been the toilet paper you used. (You know the kind that feels like it is made of Plexiglas. That is why you should never steal TP from hotels.) Hell, it may have been something you ate, but you will see some red. Not alarming, it is just the nature of the dump trade. (I always like using the word dump, it makes me laugh. When I was a kid we called it bom bom. I have no idea why, and haven’t gotten around to asking my mom why we used such a stupid term.)

Well, I ended up wiping blood for about three days. I was a little worried, but I was regular so who can bitch. By the way they say you should eat five fruits and vegetables to become that way. But to be honest over the course of a week that is thirty five fruits and vegetables and I don’t have the time for that. So on Sunday I eat thirty five fruits and vegetables. Now, I’m not regular, I’m fucking congruent. Anyway, I bought some Preparation H and figured it would go away.

Fast forward a few nights later and it is Christmas Eve. I use the bathroom and wipe. First wipe no brown, just bright red. And I mean fucking bright red. Brighter than a heavy metal band member’s leather pants. Second, third, fourth wipe and more bright red. No pain, just red. What the fuck is wrong with me? I’m bleeding out my ass. Not something I’m familiar because I am pretty off limits down there. I mean hell I can’t even handle a suppository. And remember blood = worry, so I’m thinking what should I do.

Ok, I need to digress for a bit. I said down there is off limits but there was this one time years ago. I was living back East and my buddy owned a dry cleaner. One of his customers had tickets to a Phillies game, so we all went. The game got rained out and we were drinking before hand. We were pretty lit, with nowhere to go, so my buddy’s customer, who was married, suggests we go to an Asian Bath House and get massages. So we show up and go into our private rooms. This Asian lady is rubbing my back and then asks me, “You want happy ending? Fifteen dollar!” Well, I’m pretty loaded and was a single 25 year old guy so I figured what the fuck.

Then I notice I have no money, but knew one of my friends did. So I wrap up in a towel and run down to another of the private rooms. I barge in and there is my buddy getting a happy ending. He was like, “What are you doing, Cooper?” I told him taking some money out of his pants that were on the floor, and he couldn’t do a fucking thing about it right now. So I run back to my private room and give the lady my cash. As she is stroking me, she is also putting her finger, you know where. I would have told her to stop, but she is a professional so probably knows what she was doing. Plus I didn’t want to piss her off because my dick was in her hand and I didn’t want to get an Indian burn. Anyway she gets done and we all meet up at the car. I ask my friends, “Hey, did any of you get a finger up your ass?” And they were like, “No, dude, you must have gotten the bonus plan!”

To be continued...

Blood Sucks - Part 2

I think the fear of blood goes back to when you were a kid. Think about that statement. When you were little how many times would you fall down, get a bump or bruise, ignore it and keep playing? However, if you fell down and scraped yourself and saw just a trickle of blood you’d start bawling. But of course then the School Nurse or your mom would come rushing to your aid. “Oh my god, are you ok?” Then they would wipe your tears away, spray some anti-bacterial stuff on the scratch, throw a band aid on it and you would be better. But the attention and the reaction that you got from the sight of blood put a fear in us at a young age.

That fear of blood can consume you. Years ago I was in the passenger seat of my friend’s car and we were driving to the Jersey Shore. I was sipping on a plastic jug of iced tea and we were cruising down the Atlantic Expressway. We were surprised that there wasn’t much traffic and we were getting ready for a weekend of insanity and pure on debauchery. Suddenly a car stops out of nowhere, causing a chain reaction crash. My head slammed into the windshield, totally cracking the glass. On my way up, I smashed my lip into the dashboard. Although, somewhat shocked, I was fine.

I was fine until I got out of the car. I felt my lip and it felt moist and saw a little bit of blood. It was night time and I looked down at my shirt and it was very wet and sticky. The front of my shirt, and I hate to say this, but I was wearing a surgeon’s shirt, but hey it was the eighties, was mostly covered in liquid. At that moment I freaked the fuck out! I thought I had a serious injury and would have to be rushed to the hospital. Did the sight of blood cause this? Hell, yeah it did! My lip had a small scratch which made me over analyze the situation.

The “blood” on my shirt was actually iced tea from the jug that spilled all over me during the crash. If I had never seen that little dribble of blood from my lip, I would have been completely calm and fine. Yes, I would have cracked the windshield, but would have said, “Fuck it, everything is cool. Thank god I have such a hard head!”

To be continued...

Blood Sucks - Part 1

Blood sucks. Blood is the scariest thing a person can see. Your own blood, that is. Scarier then The Blair Witch Project, The Omen or The Exorcist. We may see blood on television or in the movies, but that doesn’t compare to seeing our own blood. (Plus we know that Hollywood stuff is syrup or maraschino cherry juice or some special effect.)

A broken bone hurts like a motherfucker, but it doesn’t scare you. Sure you get that stomach ache when you break or sprain something. You know the stomach ache I am talking about. The one that feels like you just got kicked in the balls, times four.

Actually I have never been kicked in the balls. I think that is another one of those Urban Legends just like the people who had their luggage ripped off on a trip. Yeah, this family was in Jamaica and when they got back to their hotel room, everything was gone. Everything that is, except for their toiletries and a camera. When they got back from vacation they developed the film. And in the photos were a bunch of Rastafarians waving to the Kodak with the people's tooth brushes shoved up their asses.

I've never been kicked in the crotch but did take a hockey ball there once. I was in Fourth grade and we were playing some Sixth graders in street hockey. It was cold as shit out and I was playing goalie, without a cup on. Now there are two kind of Mylec street hockey balls. One is for the summer which is orange and harder and one for winter that is blue and softer. Well like a bunch of fucking idiots we were playing with the blue one in twenty degree weather. A Sixth grader is about six feet away from me and winds up with a hard slap shot. The ball came right at me and hit me square in the package. I went down and out. Visions of kids I would never have passed before my eyes and I got that stomach ache. The one that makes you feel like you are going to puke up a locomotive.

When you break a bone, you know exactly what happened. You fucked up your arm or leg, but you have instant realization of what has happened. Your shin is sticking through your flesh or you can’t move a limb, but you suck it up and go to the hospital and know what you are dealing with.

Blood is a different thing. And I am not talking about a bloody nose or a bloody lip. Fuck that, I’m not even talking about a shaving cut. (However if you cut your lip shaving, that shit never stops bleeding.) All the above things are easy to fix. You grab some tissues, apply some pressure and it’s done. You might get alarmed for a second, but when you think about why you were alarmed you feel like a pussy and then the blood stops and you go on with life.

To be continued...

Marijuana and Me - Conclusion

OK, back to marijuana. Besides the medical stuff, California has some other really strong weed. Weed much stronger than that Sensimilla from my college days, which turned me into a whimpering, little bitch. I know a guy who buys weed that he says is hydroponic. The herbage is actually cultivated in a green house in a scientific way. It goes by names such as the chronic, the swag and the cush. Oh, and the buds are pretty! These buds are a huge and green and purple and actually look like a corsage. I could just imagine two stoners getting married and using this stuff for boutonnieres.

I did try the swag a few years back and it was a bad choice. I was out drinking and a buddy asked me if I wanted to smoke a little. What the hell it was the weekend, right? Wrong! I took two hits of this stuff and once again lost my mind! I remember sitting in the bar and the whole bar started to spin. I had to get out and get some fresh air, and then decided to walk home. I got one block down the street and literally couldn’t fucking walk. Thank god there was a bench on the corner. I collapsed on it and had to call my buddy to come get me and drive me home. Cowboy would have been proud of me!

I also tried it at Reggae on the River, a music festival in Humboldt County, better known as the “Weed Capital of America.” I was amazed when I got to the weekend event. People were just walking around with buds for sale, joints for sale, even care packages. (They consisted of Pot Brownies, Marijuana Rice Krispy treats and something called Goo Balls.) And you could haggle on price. It was like shopping for trinkets in Tijuana.

Let me tell you there was quite a lot of fucked up people there. I was mostly drinking but did eat a brownie one night. Not to say I got stoned, but a group of us were hanging and playing guitars and having a blast. But then I sort of freaked out, because the girl I was hitting on, her head suddenly appeared to be a goat’s head. (In retrospect, it made no sense because she was wearing a college sweatshirt, and we all know goats don’t do well on their S.A.T.s.)

So as you can see, I can’t handle marijuana that is why I don’t smoke that much. But to be honest, I wish I could enjoy it. Think about it. You don’t get a hangover, you don’t angry and you don’t get a beer belly from it. You might laugh a lot but remember laughter is the best medicine!

Marijuana and Me - Part 4

I live in California now. A place where marijuana has been legalized and I don’t have a problem with it. I love when people come out against this law and say how smoking pot can lead to health problems. Hey assholes, it is legalized for people who are in pain. If you want to outlaw something because it causes health problems, I have two words for you…junk food! Think about the shape the person is in who will scarf down Twinkies, Big Macs and Fresca! Tax the shit out of Kit Kats, Suzy-Q’s and Jolt Cola and see what will happen to our deficit! Oh and keep it away from the kids and throw out the video games and see how quick this country stops being the capital of obesity!

The funny thing about medical marijuana is how easy it is to get. Originally it was for people with glaucoma or very advanced cancer and it was for medicinal purpose. But now it is a sham. Someone can walk into a dispensary where there is a doctor on duty. The doctor asks what bothers you and then fills out a prescription card for you. I love when people can buy it after they say they suffer from anxiety! Guess what? Welcome to my life and almost everyone I knows lives. Just say you want to get high, that’s all. Or when the doctor asks you what you are suffering from, bang your hand on the fucking table and tell him your knuckles hurt.

The good thing about medical marijuana is the names they give to it. What creative marketing. (Actually it isn’t. Hell you could call this stuff bloody anal cyst and people would still buy it. “Hey man, pass the bong of retarded monkey feces. It is good shit!”)

Trainwreck, Purple Voodoo, Mango Og, Purple LA Confidential, White Widow, Purple Urkle, Old Skool, Snowcap. Cool fucking names and very seductive. Oh and they also have different varieties of food products now. You can get cookies, brownies, pizza, even tortillas with cannabis. Talk about killing two birds with one stone. You can get high and cure your munchies in one step. Damn, society has become lazy!

I know people who smoke this stuff everyday. And damn that is impressive. I tried some of this medical stuff and I did not feel any pain, except for my stomach from laughing so hard. Honestly, I don’t know how people can function on a daily basis when they spark up every morning. People work when they are stoned. I used to be a waiter and could never work that way, if I did it wouldn’t be a pretty sight. I would have been trying to take an order and then just start cracking up. And when I checked back to see how their food was, I would have been staring at their plate. “Hey, Dude. That looks good. You gonna eat that? Don’t bogart, man!”

Before I continue about marijuana I want to talk about something that recently showed up at a party I was at. (Interestingly at this get together a lot of people were passing around the medical marijuana. But I was a good boy and didn’t partake.) A friend of mine pulled out this tin. I looked like a very small shoe polish container or something that would hold Nivea face cream in it. He had purchased it at a gas station and it is totally legal. It was called Salvia.

If you aren’t familiar and I wasn’t either, Salvia is a psychoactive herb which can induce dissociate effects for a short time. So a friend of mine decides to try it. I was thinking, I might too, I mean it is legal after all. So I tell him that I will wait and see how it effects him before I smoke some.

I go out to get a beer from the patio and then I hear commotion from the kitchen. I run inside to see what is happening and the guy who tried this legal herb, Salvia is on the floor passed out and snoring like a baby who just had a good meal of breast milk. He is snoring away and everyone doesn’t know what to do. Is he in a coma? Should we call 911? It was a scary moment, but he finally woke up after five minutes and was fine. The person who wasn’t fine, was the guy who brought the Salvia to the party. The whole time this was going on he was thinking, “Holy shit, I’m going to jail for homicide by way of Salvia!”

To be continued...