I don't cuss. Yes, I am better than all the people who do cuss, but not because I don't, that's just coincidental. I just never got into it. I suppose it's the non-conformist in me. Growing up, kids would start cussing and drinking and smoking, kind of just to show that "hey, I'm all grown up now" and I never was into that. Indeed, I had, and still have, a great aversion to acting all grown up. It bothered me as a kid that somehow I was less a person because I wasn't an adult, so I just internalized that I was all right the way I was and I didn't need to take on any of the accouterments of modern American adulthood. I suppose that is why I am stuck in eternal childishness to this day.
But back to cussing. Even the word just seems embarrassing. It's a version of the word "cursing", as in "I curse you to forever wander the earth with gnats biting you and boils over your whole body" which today has been twiddled down to the simple "Fuck you!"
The whole thing just never made sense to me.
The word "shit" meaning feces, or in verb form, to defecate, makes sense. For example, "you look like shit" although not literal everyone can understand the metaphor. You look like excrement, unappealing to the touch and smell, and to be avoided.
I had a roommate in college who would come home and notice me cooking some delicious goulash and he would peer in the pot and exclaim "what is that shit?" to which I would retort, "it is not shit, it is delicious goulash" and he would respond, nonplussed, "looks good, when do we eat?" So he would be using the word to mean "stuff". A like example would be "we need to move all your shit over here" to which the response would likely be "yeah, I got a lot of shit to move" and no one would be making any value judgment on the particular shit that needed to be moved. Ironically, I use the word "crap" in the same way and somehow manage to offend. "You have a lot of crap in here" is likely to evoke a defensive "It's not crap, these books represent the pinnacle of man's knowledge." Ironic in that if I had called it "shit" no offense would be taken.
"Fuck" is the most nonsensical cuss word ever. We all know what it literally means, but it kind of just means "double-plus" know like in the book "1984".
"1984" is a cautionary tale about totalitarianism. An interesting development in the book is the concept of "newspeak" where the government has decided that having too many words is confusing and starts to pare down the vocabulary, ostensibly to simplify communication, but actually to stifle thought. Removing words with subtle meanings removes the ability to communicate those subtle ideas, eventually removing the ability to even think those ideas.
So, instead of words like good, better, best, bad, worse, worst, the ministry of culture takes the one word "good" and adds "plus" to mean "better", i.e. "plus-good." And so "double-plus-good" replaces "excellent", "fantastic", "radical", "totally groovy, man" etc. "Double-plus-ungood" is used to replace "that stinks to high heaven." See how this restriction of vocabulary limits our freedom of expression? I think of "fuck" in the same way. It means everything, so it means nothing. "That's fucked up" is the same as "that is double-plus-ungood" in that it really conveys no meaning besides "I heartily disapprove." What is that you disapprove of? What aspect can I change to gain your approval? How does it displease in comparison to other non-pleasing things? All that is lost, the critic says "that's fucked up" and everyone laughs and we move on. No thinking, no critical analysis, nothing. It's all evisceral.
At best most profanity is a lie. Using and outrageous, shocking word should be reserved for truly shocking, outrageous things.
For example, the firemen entering the World Trade Centers on 9/11, upon noticing flaming bodies landing around outside, they can honestly exclaim "holy shit!" because it means "there is something so disturbing, so panicking, so beyond the pale of normal observance that I must use the most shocking phrase in my vocabulary: HOLY SHIT!" Seeing a high school kid make a difficult shot in a basketball game does not come close. Seeing a cat chase a much bigger dog around the yard does not come close. Getting a B+ on my sociology final does not come close. Those are all lies, just like the people who are always saying something is the biggest, or best, or longest, or whatever, and you get sick of them always having witnessed the most of whatever the topic is about, I get sick of people using profanity and outrageous, shocking expressions to describe the slightly non-mundane. Pull out your dictionary and get some new words, words that actually mean something.
Sunday, January 4, 2009
Friday, January 2, 2009
Up late last night at a little dinner party. It's hard to get up on the day after New Years anyway, but remember I'm laid off? So I have some contract work I'm doing and I need some money so I'll go in.
How many people get their income in this way? I mean, how many people are not on a salary but get paid commission, or only when the job is finished? Which way is "harder"? Getting paid by the job makes sense to me emotionally and psychologically, it seems that follows the core principles of "capitalism", I'm incentivized to do a good job quickly. Big corporations are run like mini-communist states, I suppose some not so mini. So many people are paid not for actually doing anything, but because their boss likes them, and they put up an air of importance, and they can tune into whatever values their boss wants to project to his boss, and so it goes.
But doing contract work for a small business, the owner just wants something produced and he doesn't know how to do it himself, but he has a notion of what a good job is, so he pays me for my skill in getting the job done, not because of how I dress or I can schmooze or I stay late pretending to be "on top off" various "issues." Maybe the real solution to the economy and to force us to be productive is to just put a cap on business size?
How many people get their income in this way? I mean, how many people are not on a salary but get paid commission, or only when the job is finished? Which way is "harder"? Getting paid by the job makes sense to me emotionally and psychologically, it seems that follows the core principles of "capitalism", I'm incentivized to do a good job quickly. Big corporations are run like mini-communist states, I suppose some not so mini. So many people are paid not for actually doing anything, but because their boss likes them, and they put up an air of importance, and they can tune into whatever values their boss wants to project to his boss, and so it goes.
But doing contract work for a small business, the owner just wants something produced and he doesn't know how to do it himself, but he has a notion of what a good job is, so he pays me for my skill in getting the job done, not because of how I dress or I can schmooze or I stay late pretending to be "on top off" various "issues." Maybe the real solution to the economy and to force us to be productive is to just put a cap on business size?
Thursday, January 1, 2009
Happy New Year
The new year came in watching Kathy Griffin embarrass Anderson Cooper on CNN. Is that what I've come to, watching CNN for the New Year's countdown?
Let's see, this year my Dad died, I was laid up in the hospital for five days with a severe tooth infection, I got laid off, my credit card bills are way too high, I lost a ton of money in my 401K due to stocks going down, might seem like a crappy year, but I know there are people worse off so I guess I can't complain(?)
On the plus side I've lost five pounds, I just got a new job offer, and I love the swirling snow outside the family room window, and Target Optical put a new screw in my glasses for free!
Let's see, this year my Dad died, I was laid up in the hospital for five days with a severe tooth infection, I got laid off, my credit card bills are way too high, I lost a ton of money in my 401K due to stocks going down, might seem like a crappy year, but I know there are people worse off so I guess I can't complain(?)
On the plus side I've lost five pounds, I just got a new job offer, and I love the swirling snow outside the family room window, and Target Optical put a new screw in my glasses for free!
Thursday, November 6, 2008
Laid Off
I got laid off today.
Our architect came by my cube and said he wanted to talk to me. Nothing unusual about that, I figured he wanted to ask some technical questions or my opinion about something. We went into the conference room across the aisle from me, nothing unusual about that, it has a white board. I followed him in and noticed the HR lady sitting at the table. Mmm, what's she doing here?
We sat down and the architect quickly said something like "days like this are difficult. Your position is being eliminated." I thought, ok, so what's my new position? We had been having slow sales, our revenue this year was so far very poor, we had shuffled some executive level people, we had just hired a new director of technology, a re-organization was in the works, so they are probably finally rolling out the new organization and they are going to tell me what I will be working on now.
"Today is your last day." That kind of hit me hard. It was like I wanted to pause time immediately so I could think a little. Then I wanted to rewind, this couldn't be true. I was one of the best software people they had. I was smart, hard-working, innovative. Just yesterday I had been talking with my manager about what project I would be working on next. I was the most versatile guy they had here, I had 27 years experience in software development, I had 14 years in this industry, I was a mentor to the less experienced.
The HR lady took over and told me about the severance package and about insurance, etc. I'm not the type to freak out, so I asked pertinent questions about the situation, what about the open job requisitions, are those closed? Most were closed, but I was welcome to apply for any open positions. The whole thing seemed surreal. I didn't ask about who was going to finish up what I was working on. I did ask how many are affected by this.
"11% of the workforce, from all areas of the company."
They told me I can pack up, or they can pack up for me. I said I would pack up. I stepped out and saw my cube neighbor, a member of my team. He had a box and was packing up. "You got hit too?" I didn't feel very gregarious at that point and just went and got a box. By the time I came back there were more people who were packing up.
I didn't have a whole lot to pack. I grabbed a DVD and copied all my personal stuff from my computer. I put in my yoga mat, my various packaged food that I nibbled on during the day, my model of Dr. Zauis, my mug, some pens. I had some paintings my wife had done. It all easily fit in the box. My previous manager came over and gave me his card.
I left and went across the street to the hotel where the outplacement people were set up. I talked with a nice counselor who made sure that I was emotionally all right. Sure, I'm fine, I just dread going home to tell my wife.
"Will she be supportive?" she asked with grave concern.
"Oh yeah, I just mean it's going to be hard to tell her."
The whole thing is still surreal. I have about two months of severance. They'll pay for insurance for three months. They actually were pretty decent about it. And I understand the logic, third quarter results come out tomorrow, they're probably pretty bad, so this move will reassure the stockholders that the executives are on top of things. Sure, they could be bold and say our people are our best resource, and developers are an investment. They probably don't care that they've put the company in a downward spiral, all the people left are going to be nervous, they're going to be overworked, they're going to start looking for new jobs, the best ones are going to get new jobs.
The whole thing sucks for everyone.
Our architect came by my cube and said he wanted to talk to me. Nothing unusual about that, I figured he wanted to ask some technical questions or my opinion about something. We went into the conference room across the aisle from me, nothing unusual about that, it has a white board. I followed him in and noticed the HR lady sitting at the table. Mmm, what's she doing here?
We sat down and the architect quickly said something like "days like this are difficult. Your position is being eliminated." I thought, ok, so what's my new position? We had been having slow sales, our revenue this year was so far very poor, we had shuffled some executive level people, we had just hired a new director of technology, a re-organization was in the works, so they are probably finally rolling out the new organization and they are going to tell me what I will be working on now.
"Today is your last day." That kind of hit me hard. It was like I wanted to pause time immediately so I could think a little. Then I wanted to rewind, this couldn't be true. I was one of the best software people they had. I was smart, hard-working, innovative. Just yesterday I had been talking with my manager about what project I would be working on next. I was the most versatile guy they had here, I had 27 years experience in software development, I had 14 years in this industry, I was a mentor to the less experienced.
The HR lady took over and told me about the severance package and about insurance, etc. I'm not the type to freak out, so I asked pertinent questions about the situation, what about the open job requisitions, are those closed? Most were closed, but I was welcome to apply for any open positions. The whole thing seemed surreal. I didn't ask about who was going to finish up what I was working on. I did ask how many are affected by this.
"11% of the workforce, from all areas of the company."
They told me I can pack up, or they can pack up for me. I said I would pack up. I stepped out and saw my cube neighbor, a member of my team. He had a box and was packing up. "You got hit too?" I didn't feel very gregarious at that point and just went and got a box. By the time I came back there were more people who were packing up.
I didn't have a whole lot to pack. I grabbed a DVD and copied all my personal stuff from my computer. I put in my yoga mat, my various packaged food that I nibbled on during the day, my model of Dr. Zauis, my mug, some pens. I had some paintings my wife had done. It all easily fit in the box. My previous manager came over and gave me his card.
I left and went across the street to the hotel where the outplacement people were set up. I talked with a nice counselor who made sure that I was emotionally all right. Sure, I'm fine, I just dread going home to tell my wife.
"Will she be supportive?" she asked with grave concern.
"Oh yeah, I just mean it's going to be hard to tell her."
The whole thing is still surreal. I have about two months of severance. They'll pay for insurance for three months. They actually were pretty decent about it. And I understand the logic, third quarter results come out tomorrow, they're probably pretty bad, so this move will reassure the stockholders that the executives are on top of things. Sure, they could be bold and say our people are our best resource, and developers are an investment. They probably don't care that they've put the company in a downward spiral, all the people left are going to be nervous, they're going to be overworked, they're going to start looking for new jobs, the best ones are going to get new jobs.
The whole thing sucks for everyone.
Tuesday, October 14, 2008
Blogging! I love blogging!
I will give my opinions about various things.
I will not raise my hand to tell you if I am joking.
Currently I am watching Sponge Bob on tv.
Tomorrow? Who knows?
About this picture of me.
Recently, this past summer, I had a horrible tooth infection that precipitated a trip to the emergency room. My mouth had swollen shut and I couldn't eat anything. A cat scan was taken to try to pin point where the infection was. This is the "scout" image.
Note my square jaw.
I will not raise my hand to tell you if I am joking.
Currently I am watching Sponge Bob on tv.
Tomorrow? Who knows?
About this picture of me.
Recently, this past summer, I had a horrible tooth infection that precipitated a trip to the emergency room. My mouth had swollen shut and I couldn't eat anything. A cat scan was taken to try to pin point where the infection was. This is the "scout" image.
Note my square jaw.
Wednesday, June 4, 2008
What I did this summer
This is a repost of an email I sent recently. It explains why I got a CT image of myself for my icon.
Here is the definitive story from my own mouth, written in the middle of the night because i can't sleep:
Last sunday kathy and i went to mississippi river for a little holiday, as is said in europe, and i got a toothache. On monday it was getting worse but we were going home anyway so came home in the afternoon and thought maybe i have something stuck between my teeth so used the water pick and it didn't hurt but it didn't make it better.
So tuesday i called our (new) dentist, getting a dentist you can trust is as hard as getting a mechanic in a new town, among the family we had gone to two dentists in town over easter, so i went to the one i had gone to, she has a tv you can watch while they clean your teeth, so i figured go to her. She took x-rays and said i had an abscessed tooth so need a root canal. That particular tooth, old #18, has a crown so has caused trouble before, it is the last molar since the wisdom tooth behind it had been pulled out a few years back. The enamel for the crown was broken anyway, i crack my back teeth from teeth grinding and too strong of jaw muscles. She said she could pull off the crown and look underneath, if there was enough tooth left she could give me a root canal, build up the tooth and put a new crown on. Otherwise she could just pull the tooth, and then we'd have to think about getting a false tooth or some such. Since it is last tooth there is nothing to anchor it on, so that would be a little more complicated.
Of course I would rather keep my teeth so that made sense. However, i was starting to get a swollen jaw so first thing is to reduce swelling and get rid of the infection and after that don't wait too long to come in for the root canal.
Well, ok, makes sense, so schedule the root canal next friday, the soonest we can.
She puts me on peniccillin and i say it hurts pretty bad can you give me a pain killer too and she says ok, vicadin, i say thanks, at least i could sleep. The tylenol and ibuprofen weren't doing too much the night before. So that night it hurts pretty bad and the next day feels worse, that night is bad again so thursday call and say it's not getting better. She says, oh, it should have felt better within a day or so, so here is a stronger antibiotic. This was a consult over the phone. That thursday night is horrible, call the next day again, by now my mouth is swollen shut and i am having trouble swallowing.
To even take the pain pill i have to push it to the back of my mouth past my teeth and then swig some water to swallow. I go in friday morning and she says we should just do the procedure now, but then sees i can't open my mouth and says this is worse than i can do so she sends me to the emergency room. Waconia hospital is just about 10 miles down the road so kathy takes me. Realize at this point kathy drove me to the dentist, that's how bad it was! Everyone say "poor Chris!"
So we go to emergency room and they try to look in my mouth and i can't open my mouth at all, the admitting tries to pry open with the popsicle stick and can't get in so orders a cat scan. The cat scan shows inflamation, but no real sack of pus or anything to drain. Of course I get a copy of the cat scan on a cd, that's what i do, if any of you have any ct or mr scans send them to me and I'll make a nice 3d image of it, like i did for jackie's appendix.
I had been hoping they could find a sack of pus and they could stick a needle and suck it out! Doesn't that sound like it would feel good! Well, the admitting sends me to icu because they are worried about my airway getting constricted. They send me up and i meet the ear nose throat specialist and he tries to stick the popsicle stick in my mouth and can't get in there. But of course he has a special device! A special flexible scope that he only has to stick up my nose and work its way around to my throat and see what is going on. I warn him about my gag reflex. He says, that's ok, just breath normally. haha, you've been warned.
So he sticks this flexi straw with a web cam on the end of it up my nose and the nurse is so kind and holds my hand and i start spitting and gurgling, like that robot guy in "Alien" but the doc goes pretty quick and says it looks swollen, let's get you on antibiotics and anti inflammatories to reduce the swelling and then you can have your root canal. Haha, so my incentive to get better is so I can have a root canal! We ask about is there some other mechanical reason i can't open up, like the jaw got dislocated or something, and he says there is nothing like that on the cat scan. Any exercises or something to do also? Not really, just get the swelling down so we can get in there. I can move my mouth sideways and front and back, just can't open it. How come i've been on antibiotics and it hasn't helped. Well, in the hospital they can do it intravenously and we can watch you so should be stronger.
Well, they put me on iv so the medicine goes straight into my blood and i get a little better, saturday i can open a little and i actually eat something, i have some scrambled eggs and cream of wheat, realize this whole week i have only been eating applesaucse and oatmeal since i couldn't chew. It is weird feeling for me, many times i have an appetite when i am not hungry, but now i was very hungry but no appettite. Oh well, i can force down some applesauce and scrambled eggs, but can't chew. Saturday goes pretty well. That night i crap in the bed a few times (super strong multiple anti-biotics) but by the third time I am not embarrassed anymore. Try getting out of a hospital bed quickly with an iv, blood pressure cup, finger connector to measure my O2, heart monitor, push the button to call the nurse, oops, too late. "Can I help you?" "I crapped in the bed again." I suppose i should have said "There was an incident" but i am too groggy anyway. The nurses are all real nice. "That's all right, i'll come clean up." Calling it crap is pretty generous anyway, it is really just "brown pee coming out my butt."
Sunday i feel a lot better but my mouth is still restricted. Not so much pain. I can open my mouth about 5 mm, enough to slip in a spoon or straw, but still can't chew and still swollen. Sunday is a different ENT, the oncall partner of the guy i saw friday and saturday and he says i can't go home because i still can't open my mouth enough. Fair enough, should i be trying to force it open or is there exercises i should do? He seems in a hurry but kathy and i bug him with questions.
So that night it gets worse again and I clamp up, and now it is monday and i call kathy and say "come on over honey". They take another cat scan and send me over to the oral surgeon and he takes a bitewing xray and says your jaw is swollen shut, we need to get rid of the source of the trouble: That damn tooth! (I am using hyperbole for comic effect: cm)
Kathy and i talk to the oral surgeon a while to discuss getting a root canal versus just pulling the tooth out, the oral surgeon is patient but insistent that there probably is no point to keeping the tooth, let's yank it! at this point i am not too fond of old #18 anyway
Ok, so we agree, i wish we had decided that friday, or even last tuseday, but these matters are delicate and need to be examined from all points of view. I get wheeled back through the tunnel that goes between the hospital and the medical offices, back to the hospital and they say, ok, surgery at 1:00. Sounds good to me. Wake up at 6, call kathy at 9, cat scan at 10, consult oral surgeon at 11, surgery at 1.
Aha, good thing i hadn't eaten yet, go through the checklist: don't smoke, don't drink (what do you do?) am i allergic to anything? not that i know of.
The anesthesioligist comes in, another nice guy, we go through my history again. He explains that they have to put a tube down my throat so i can breath, they don't want my airway to collapse. So they can either put me to sleep and stick the tube down, or stick the tube down and then put me to sleep. Mmm, maybe the first one is better? I warn the anesthesioligist i have a strong gag reflex. "Oh, it'll be all right" he says. So he waits to consult with the oral surgeon, it is better to get the tube in first, then put me under, make sure my airway doesn't collapse. Makes sense, I can handle discomfort, but not so much strangulation.
So the procedure is to put the tube in, as soon as it is in they will put me under, within seconds he says. Ok, i can deal with that.
He takes a can of wD40 out, with a thin straw attached to the nozzle, and that he can stick in my mouth and spray the back of my throat a few times. He sticks it down my nose and sprays some more. Unpleasant but tolerable. Then he pulls out a sequence of tubes, each one a little bigger, and says we will start with the first one. He sticks it in and I go into my gurgling and spitting routine. I am thinking please don't barf, because they warned me if I barfed since they can't open my mouth i would need a tracheotomy if i choked on my barf. I guess i can't barf anyway because there is nothing in my stomach, so i go through the dry heaves routine, not really dry because i am spitting and gurgling. The anesthesiologist is a man's man i suppose, because he says, "why don't you just push it in yourself?" So i take the tube and push it in, some how because i am controlling it i can focus and breath all right and get it in there. Ok, so the second tube goes inside the first and in farther, and then he takes out this long tube with a nice bend in it and if i were in a different mood i suppose i would laugh to look at it, it looks a couple feet long, maybe it is, with a big bend at the end. I suppose they have to get that end down to the top of my longs, then open a balloon to lodge it in place, and then i am all set. So he quickly slips that down my tube and i gurgle and the nurses are holding my arms and down i go and everything goes out.
I have a hazy memory of me twisting and struggling with about ten nurses trying to hold me while i silently scream, a la the hulk, or arnold in "Total recall", but that is just a weird dream memory. They tell me later that the instinct is to pull the tube out so they have to make sure I don't do that, it would rip the top of my lungs. Of course, so courteous of you to not let me rip the top of my lungs!
So I suppose the surgeon talks to me after but i don't remember, kathy is there and talks to him, what a life partner!
I wake up in the recovery room and the oral surgeon tells me some things but i am like, whatever, and then they wheel me back up to me room. The only thing I need now is the head nurse to slap her hands twice and say "all better!"
So the next day the oral surgeon says once i went under they were concerned about opening my jaw, they hadn't seen any mechanical obstruction in the cat scan but they weren't quite sure. He says that once i went to sleep they could open my mouth fine, so it was just the pain that was limiting my mouth motion. He says that once he popped off the crown a whole punch of pus came out, the tooth was totally decayed so he couldn't just pull it out but had to "remove it surgically", which means he left two stitches. He cleaned out the infection between my jaw and the interior muscle, and put in a little shunt with another stitch, to keep it draining. He says i can go home today, so that sounds good to me.
So today i came home, and recovery is now recovery from a tooth extraction, have to eat ice cream and drink gatorade and lay on the couch and watch tv. I don't feel so good yet, but about 800 times better than last week. A side benefit i just noticed, i jammed my finger playing basketball about a month ago, and it was still swollen, but now it feels all better, i suppose the anti-inflammatories helped out.
I will stay home this week, the doctor filled out the forms for work so i can have "short term disability" which means sick for more than three days. Work is pretty nice, they have chipped in and have covered for me pretty good.
Summary is to go to the dentist regularly.
And so "That's that!"
Here is the definitive story from my own mouth, written in the middle of the night because i can't sleep:
Last sunday kathy and i went to mississippi river for a little holiday, as is said in europe, and i got a toothache. On monday it was getting worse but we were going home anyway so came home in the afternoon and thought maybe i have something stuck between my teeth so used the water pick and it didn't hurt but it didn't make it better.
So tuesday i called our (new) dentist, getting a dentist you can trust is as hard as getting a mechanic in a new town, among the family we had gone to two dentists in town over easter, so i went to the one i had gone to, she has a tv you can watch while they clean your teeth, so i figured go to her. She took x-rays and said i had an abscessed tooth so need a root canal. That particular tooth, old #18, has a crown so has caused trouble before, it is the last molar since the wisdom tooth behind it had been pulled out a few years back. The enamel for the crown was broken anyway, i crack my back teeth from teeth grinding and too strong of jaw muscles. She said she could pull off the crown and look underneath, if there was enough tooth left she could give me a root canal, build up the tooth and put a new crown on. Otherwise she could just pull the tooth, and then we'd have to think about getting a false tooth or some such. Since it is last tooth there is nothing to anchor it on, so that would be a little more complicated.
Of course I would rather keep my teeth so that made sense. However, i was starting to get a swollen jaw so first thing is to reduce swelling and get rid of the infection and after that don't wait too long to come in for the root canal.
Well, ok, makes sense, so schedule the root canal next friday, the soonest we can.
She puts me on peniccillin and i say it hurts pretty bad can you give me a pain killer too and she says ok, vicadin, i say thanks, at least i could sleep. The tylenol and ibuprofen weren't doing too much the night before. So that night it hurts pretty bad and the next day feels worse, that night is bad again so thursday call and say it's not getting better. She says, oh, it should have felt better within a day or so, so here is a stronger antibiotic. This was a consult over the phone. That thursday night is horrible, call the next day again, by now my mouth is swollen shut and i am having trouble swallowing.
To even take the pain pill i have to push it to the back of my mouth past my teeth and then swig some water to swallow. I go in friday morning and she says we should just do the procedure now, but then sees i can't open my mouth and says this is worse than i can do so she sends me to the emergency room. Waconia hospital is just about 10 miles down the road so kathy takes me. Realize at this point kathy drove me to the dentist, that's how bad it was! Everyone say "poor Chris!"
So we go to emergency room and they try to look in my mouth and i can't open my mouth at all, the admitting tries to pry open with the popsicle stick and can't get in so orders a cat scan. The cat scan shows inflamation, but no real sack of pus or anything to drain. Of course I get a copy of the cat scan on a cd, that's what i do, if any of you have any ct or mr scans send them to me and I'll make a nice 3d image of it, like i did for jackie's appendix.
I had been hoping they could find a sack of pus and they could stick a needle and suck it out! Doesn't that sound like it would feel good! Well, the admitting sends me to icu because they are worried about my airway getting constricted. They send me up and i meet the ear nose throat specialist and he tries to stick the popsicle stick in my mouth and can't get in there. But of course he has a special device! A special flexible scope that he only has to stick up my nose and work its way around to my throat and see what is going on. I warn him about my gag reflex. He says, that's ok, just breath normally. haha, you've been warned.
So he sticks this flexi straw with a web cam on the end of it up my nose and the nurse is so kind and holds my hand and i start spitting and gurgling, like that robot guy in "Alien" but the doc goes pretty quick and says it looks swollen, let's get you on antibiotics and anti inflammatories to reduce the swelling and then you can have your root canal. Haha, so my incentive to get better is so I can have a root canal! We ask about is there some other mechanical reason i can't open up, like the jaw got dislocated or something, and he says there is nothing like that on the cat scan. Any exercises or something to do also? Not really, just get the swelling down so we can get in there. I can move my mouth sideways and front and back, just can't open it. How come i've been on antibiotics and it hasn't helped. Well, in the hospital they can do it intravenously and we can watch you so should be stronger.
Well, they put me on iv so the medicine goes straight into my blood and i get a little better, saturday i can open a little and i actually eat something, i have some scrambled eggs and cream of wheat, realize this whole week i have only been eating applesaucse and oatmeal since i couldn't chew. It is weird feeling for me, many times i have an appetite when i am not hungry, but now i was very hungry but no appettite. Oh well, i can force down some applesauce and scrambled eggs, but can't chew. Saturday goes pretty well. That night i crap in the bed a few times (super strong multiple anti-biotics) but by the third time I am not embarrassed anymore. Try getting out of a hospital bed quickly with an iv, blood pressure cup, finger connector to measure my O2, heart monitor, push the button to call the nurse, oops, too late. "Can I help you?" "I crapped in the bed again." I suppose i should have said "There was an incident" but i am too groggy anyway. The nurses are all real nice. "That's all right, i'll come clean up." Calling it crap is pretty generous anyway, it is really just "brown pee coming out my butt."
Sunday i feel a lot better but my mouth is still restricted. Not so much pain. I can open my mouth about 5 mm, enough to slip in a spoon or straw, but still can't chew and still swollen. Sunday is a different ENT, the oncall partner of the guy i saw friday and saturday and he says i can't go home because i still can't open my mouth enough. Fair enough, should i be trying to force it open or is there exercises i should do? He seems in a hurry but kathy and i bug him with questions.
So that night it gets worse again and I clamp up, and now it is monday and i call kathy and say "come on over honey". They take another cat scan and send me over to the oral surgeon and he takes a bitewing xray and says your jaw is swollen shut, we need to get rid of the source of the trouble: That damn tooth! (I am using hyperbole for comic effect: cm)
Kathy and i talk to the oral surgeon a while to discuss getting a root canal versus just pulling the tooth out, the oral surgeon is patient but insistent that there probably is no point to keeping the tooth, let's yank it! at this point i am not too fond of old #18 anyway
Ok, so we agree, i wish we had decided that friday, or even last tuseday, but these matters are delicate and need to be examined from all points of view. I get wheeled back through the tunnel that goes between the hospital and the medical offices, back to the hospital and they say, ok, surgery at 1:00. Sounds good to me. Wake up at 6, call kathy at 9, cat scan at 10, consult oral surgeon at 11, surgery at 1.
Aha, good thing i hadn't eaten yet, go through the checklist: don't smoke, don't drink (what do you do?) am i allergic to anything? not that i know of.
The anesthesioligist comes in, another nice guy, we go through my history again. He explains that they have to put a tube down my throat so i can breath, they don't want my airway to collapse. So they can either put me to sleep and stick the tube down, or stick the tube down and then put me to sleep. Mmm, maybe the first one is better? I warn the anesthesioligist i have a strong gag reflex. "Oh, it'll be all right" he says. So he waits to consult with the oral surgeon, it is better to get the tube in first, then put me under, make sure my airway doesn't collapse. Makes sense, I can handle discomfort, but not so much strangulation.
So the procedure is to put the tube in, as soon as it is in they will put me under, within seconds he says. Ok, i can deal with that.
He takes a can of wD40 out, with a thin straw attached to the nozzle, and that he can stick in my mouth and spray the back of my throat a few times. He sticks it down my nose and sprays some more. Unpleasant but tolerable. Then he pulls out a sequence of tubes, each one a little bigger, and says we will start with the first one. He sticks it in and I go into my gurgling and spitting routine. I am thinking please don't barf, because they warned me if I barfed since they can't open my mouth i would need a tracheotomy if i choked on my barf. I guess i can't barf anyway because there is nothing in my stomach, so i go through the dry heaves routine, not really dry because i am spitting and gurgling. The anesthesiologist is a man's man i suppose, because he says, "why don't you just push it in yourself?" So i take the tube and push it in, some how because i am controlling it i can focus and breath all right and get it in there. Ok, so the second tube goes inside the first and in farther, and then he takes out this long tube with a nice bend in it and if i were in a different mood i suppose i would laugh to look at it, it looks a couple feet long, maybe it is, with a big bend at the end. I suppose they have to get that end down to the top of my longs, then open a balloon to lodge it in place, and then i am all set. So he quickly slips that down my tube and i gurgle and the nurses are holding my arms and down i go and everything goes out.
I have a hazy memory of me twisting and struggling with about ten nurses trying to hold me while i silently scream, a la the hulk, or arnold in "Total recall", but that is just a weird dream memory. They tell me later that the instinct is to pull the tube out so they have to make sure I don't do that, it would rip the top of my lungs. Of course, so courteous of you to not let me rip the top of my lungs!
So I suppose the surgeon talks to me after but i don't remember, kathy is there and talks to him, what a life partner!
I wake up in the recovery room and the oral surgeon tells me some things but i am like, whatever, and then they wheel me back up to me room. The only thing I need now is the head nurse to slap her hands twice and say "all better!"
So the next day the oral surgeon says once i went under they were concerned about opening my jaw, they hadn't seen any mechanical obstruction in the cat scan but they weren't quite sure. He says that once i went to sleep they could open my mouth fine, so it was just the pain that was limiting my mouth motion. He says that once he popped off the crown a whole punch of pus came out, the tooth was totally decayed so he couldn't just pull it out but had to "remove it surgically", which means he left two stitches. He cleaned out the infection between my jaw and the interior muscle, and put in a little shunt with another stitch, to keep it draining. He says i can go home today, so that sounds good to me.
So today i came home, and recovery is now recovery from a tooth extraction, have to eat ice cream and drink gatorade and lay on the couch and watch tv. I don't feel so good yet, but about 800 times better than last week. A side benefit i just noticed, i jammed my finger playing basketball about a month ago, and it was still swollen, but now it feels all better, i suppose the anti-inflammatories helped out.
I will stay home this week, the doctor filled out the forms for work so i can have "short term disability" which means sick for more than three days. Work is pretty nice, they have chipped in and have covered for me pretty good.
Summary is to go to the dentist regularly.
And so "That's that!"
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