Well last week was hellish. Spent a week in the hospital where I had a spectacular reaction to something, likely an antibiotic. And at the same time my gall bladder decided to explode. Not explode, per se. It wasn't gall stones, as it turns out, but gall sludge; yeah that's a thing. Basically the result is similar to gall stones, minus the sharp pains plus a dull, roaring ache. All at the same time. It was maybe one of the most trying experiences of all of this so far.
I'm home now for a couple of days, booked in for another procedure on Wednesday where they install a "bone transport" device on my left shin. This is bolted into what's left of my shin, and I'm supposed to turn a gear 4x/day so that my bone is "stretched" to close the 4 cm gap that's left after they removed the bone graft. In a pain a drug-fuelled haze, I wrote this for facebook. Apologies to any believers.
If God existed, this is what today might have looked like.
Scene: Omar is sitting on the toilet, taking his first poop since Thursday night. As before, it is an epic effort and eventually he births a solid brick the size of a Coke can.
Sideways.
As it finally crashes into the toilet, Omar’s probably prolapsed rectum collapses back into itself like the event horizon of a dying star. Checking the toilet bowl for cracks, Omar mutters “Dear God, just ****ing take me now”.
Scene: God is in Heaven, and he’s in a bad mood. He hasn’t been paying much attention to Omar lately, so out of morbid curiousity he starts creeping Omar’s social media. Coming to the past couple of days, he reads Omar’s recent Facebook entries with some incredulity.
God: What the actual **** is this.What’s with the whining and complaining - Jesus Christ, this isn’t how I built this muther****er. I think someone needs to be taught a lesson and brought back in line.
Baby Jesus: Hey, what’s up, you called?
God: What? No, it’s just… Omar. He’s all despondant because things aren’t going this way. Oh, boo hoo I don’t get to go to Florida… (checking Omar’s financial records) … I mean, he got a full refund on everything! The rental car, the flights AND the hotel DESPITE his contravention of their cancellation policy! He didn’t lose a dime!
Baby Jesus: Yeah, but he was looking forward to the trip. It was his first chance to escape the winter, and it got dashed so quickly. How’s he not supposed to be upset?
God: (Looking sideways at Baby Jesus) He’s being a whiny *****, it’s out of character, and I don’t ****ing like it. He wants to complain? I’ll give him something to complain about… (God cracks his knuckles)
Baby Jesus: Damn, dude, there’s no need to get so worked up about this. What’s the big deal? There’s no need to go all Old Testament. That’s not you anymore, right? Remember Job? You were a total dick to that guy, and for what? So you could get your ego stroked?
(God takes a deep breath, his face darkening. Baby Jesus doesn’t notice and continues)
Baby Jesus: Abraham. That guy was solid. SO-LID. And what did you to do him? Whisper in his ear to sacrifice his newborn son on the top of a mountain in your name. That guy hauled a machete and a baby to the top of a mountain, was ready to swing away to prove himself to you and you were like “PSYCHE!!! I totally got you, dude!! Hahaha you should see your face man, oh, this is priceless…” And to add insult to injury, he had to haul his baby and the ****ing hatchet all the way back down the mountain and then explain to people that God spoke to him but then gave him a mulligan at the last minute. Another dick move.
(God clenches his fists. Baby Jesus continues, flashing his baby blue eyes)
Baby Jesus: I could go on and on, but there’s one in particular that pisses me off. Remember when you were raging and wrecking the cities of Sodom and Gomorrah? Yaddah yaddah yaddah, Lot’s wife turns her head just for a second and WHAMMO - pillar of salt. She was probably just looking back to see if her daughters had made it out alive, man. And worse? The story survives but her name doesn’t? WTF dude, she had a name, but you couldn’t see fit to have someone write it down after you turn her into a seasoning? Old Testament God is dead, man, just accept it. I know you’re having a bad day or whatever, but don’t take it out on that dude down there. He’s had a rough enough time.
(God takes a deep breath. There is thunder in his voice and lightning in his eyes as he mutters through clenched teeth)
God: ****. You. Jesus. You don’t know me. One more word and with one snap I’ll dissapear your cute little loincloth and we can have a measuring contest to see what’s what. The archangels can judge!
(Baby Jesus laughs harshly, turns on his heel and walks away with contempt, giving God the finger over his little shoulder. Baby Jesus tosses one word out as he leaves}
Baby Jesus: Deuteronomy!
(God shouts after him)
God: You’re not even supposed to be white, you racist ******! Blonde hair and blue eyes, my ***!
(God casts his eyes downwards, preparing to teach Omar a lesson when suddenly, a page runs in with an old-timey phone)
Page: God, Satan is holding for you
(God takes the line; it’s not often that Satan calls)
God: Go for God.
Satan: Dude. Even I think Omar’s been through enough. Ease up, old man. Let him have an off day. Don’t you have thoughts and prayers to answer?
God: You too? This is why you called? Piss off, you sulpher-smelling pissant. It was probably you that got to him, wasn’t it. You did this, and now I have to fix it. Like always. Don’t you have something better to do? Don’t you have another school shooting to plan?
Satan: Yeah, I see how you could think that, but honestly none of that is me. Those gun-toting bozos are your responsibility. You made ‘em, Mr. All Seeing and All Knowing. Like I keep telling you, I don’t do much at all. I just receive ‘em when they expire. In fact, if anything, it’s me cleaing up YOUR mess! I’m just saying, ease up on Omar, man. There’s no need…
(God slams down the phone and hurls it across the room)
God: ENOUGH! A plague upon you, Omar Petralis, for your complaints. May you have fevers and chills all day long, may there be an unexplainable rash that covers your body and boils! May there be ****ing boils! I miss good old-fashioned boils! May the reaction be confounding to your medical experts, may no treatment sooth the fire that consumes your body, may all you eat for dinner is some ****** Jell-o and may you beg your nurse, Nancy, for death. You will scream silently, moan quietly and lose all hope as your doctors try one treatment after another as the day grows long. This is your punishment for complaining, your penance for even thinking about giving up hope in the face of your trial. This is your lesson. May you learn it painfully.
(God pauses a moment, a twinkle in his eye)
God: I see that the bed in the ward next to you is empty. Let’s change that. I’m thinking...92 year old lady...as feisty as she is senile. Mmmm...with a loud, clear voice. Yeah, voices, that’s good. She hears voices and has conversations with the voices! Yeah, she talks back, super loud and she argues. She hasn’t slept in .... 40 hours, her daughter is well-meaning but totally overwhelmed, and this old bitty is just going to keep shouting at ghosts Lionel-style: All Night Long. Good luck sleeping, ****er.
(God pauses)
I do good work.
Pride over bones any day.
