What?

So no one told me that if you take vicodin often enough it’ll make your colon fill with impacted fecal matter, and the only way to remove the impacted charcoal black turd is to use a tool to extricate and pulverize it from inside the anus.

This process isn’t practical on the toilet. It’s almost totally necessary to perform the procedure in the tub whilst “letting the chips fall where they may.” While performing a Partial Poopbaby Abortion, you need blue rubber nitrile gloves, a tongue depressor, a Fleet brand enema with Comfortip®, and copious amounts of bleach, paper towels and black trash bags. Be careful when picking up your poop baby after extraction. It may be heavy and prone to crumbling like dry clay. Lift with your knees and use both hands. Do not place your poop baby in the toilet without first breaking it in to many pieces, lest you clog it.

Alright ladies and gentleman! Had surgery yesterday, formally called a pilonidal cystectomy, and I feel pretty fantastic as long as vicodin is in me. IF I don’t take vicodin I am in ridiculous pain that gives me back spasms almost like a seizure. Wtf, right?

The anesthetic was absolutely amazing. The nurse/doctor team that administered it were younger, and I think they gave it to me nice and slow because they know it’s a beautiful ride. I had wonderful psychadelic dreams, but I can’t remember them. I know it doesn’t sound right but that’s how it was.

I got in the shower with my wife and when she took a close gander at the wound she just about passed out. She got out and sat by the toilet. I had to laugh.

I promised you guys pics, so here it is. My fuckin camera died before I could get the courage to spread my ass cheeks any further. These don’t do it justice. It’s deeper, wider and longer than it appears.

Crazy shit huh?

I’m excited to be able to slouch in my chair, go swimming without infections, wear thick colored underwear and belts, things that you just can’t appreciate with a normal ass. Surgeon says 6 weeks and I’m good to go. I can “return to work” in 2 weeks. Who wants to work though?

I’m still alive.

Alcohol and ativan do strange things to your memory. The past 9 days feel like one big day. Each day blurs together and conversations and memories are lost.

I see a surgeon for my aorta on Monday, I see a therapist that hopefully will give me something stronger than ativan on Tuesday, and Wednesday I have surgery on my ass cyst. I’m serious, that’s what my week looks like.

Here’s what my ass looked like on the first removal attempt:

I’ll be sure to post the new carnage as soon as I can deal with it. I know you’re on the edge of your seat.

-Freak Show

I haven’t talked on this page in ages because basically, I didn’t have anything to talk about. But right now I have too much to talk about, so I thought it would be cathartic to burden you hatters with it.

So I guess I’m a pretty “lucky guy”. I put lucky in quotes because you’d have to be a really sadistic person to want my luck. I went to my Cardiologist a few weeks ago for some palpitations and pain in my chest. So the Cardiologist recommends I have a CT scan. He doesn’t even tell me why. He told me to come back in a weeks time for the results. I’m good at reading people, and it seemed almost as if he knew what the CT scan would show before I got one.

So I go about my business for a few days, and before I return to the cardiologist, I go in for a routine checkup with my regular doctor. As soon as the Doc enters the room, he grabs my chart and reads the first new test result sent from my cardiologist. He said aloud “ascending aortic aneurysm 4.5 centimeters located…” and I went cold. I stopped him and said, “wait a minute, I don’t have an aneurysm.” but he confirmed that I did.

Why am I lucky? Because about 1% or less of the population has a bicuspid aortic valve, which automatically predisposes that subgroup to a 50% risk of an aortic aneurysm. I also have hypertension in my 20’s which would seem EXTREMELY “lucky”.

Every time I’ve gone to the doctor they’ve been concerned with my aorta. They never told me why, they just ran more tests. Echocardiograms, CT scans, EKG’s, the like. Little did I know, they were watching the expansion of an AORTIC ANEURYSM. Aorta = main artery that feeds life giving, oxygen rich blood to the ENTIRE BODY.

Why is this alarming? Because the aneurysm could suddenly burst from all of the stretching and weakening. If it bursts, I am most certainly dead. You see, the body pumps 5 liters of blood per minute through that Aorta – and the body only holds 6 liters of blood. If there’s a hole in the aorta, you die within minutes. Not to mention, 4.5 cm is about the right diameter at which they might want to rip out my old bicuspid aortic valve, coronary arteries and ascending aorta. They want to replace all of this beautifully designed material with a synthetic cloth called Dacron. It’s basically the same shit as your polyester shirt.

So why am I writing this? Because I have an opportunity to tell you that life is way shorter than you think. It’s definitely shorter than I thought. It could be my time any minute if this aneurysm pops. It could be my time on the operating table, or most likely after the operation. If I never told you people to live life to the fullest, it would be a shame.

Those of you that spend too much time on the internet should get out and see someone special TODAY. Go conquer that “to do list”. Go ask that girl on a date. Ask her to marry you, or enroll in college and stick with it. But don’t waste another minute of your life on the web. You’ve dodged bullets so far, so make the most of it.

On a side note, I’d like to say fuck you to all the people who in some way resent me and people like me for having an ailment. You’re sick fucks. You know who I’m talking about. You’re the type that’s always been healthy. You’ve never seen a doctor in your life and you’d rather not see one. You look at people who are scared of their ailing health as weak and pathetic. You mock them and trivialize their fear. Your end of life issues are so far away that it’s the furthest thing from your mind.
People like me are jealous of people like you. But don’t get me wrong, we hate you too. We’d love to be in your position because internally, you have nothing to fear. You have no limitations. You’re not bound by monthly prescription refills, doctors visits or tests to see how fast one is dying. You’re not reminded of your mortality by tests that score worse each time. You don’t have a disease that you know could degrade on a trip out of town. You don’t need to take 2 pills a day to remind you of your mortality and these limitations. To the contrary, you belittle medications and their efficacy. One should not take pills, he should run a marathon a day.

You mother fuckers can snicker and be kinda glad that somehow you’re not a bad person like me and people like me, but deep down I know you’ll get yours

If you have valve/aorta/health issues, feel free to hit me up – freakshow@517underground.com.