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Archive for the ‘pain’ Category

The Riderless Black Horse is an expression I borrowed from Stephen King to describe migraines.  The hoofbeats thudding through your head are ominous and threatening.

I was off work today, bedridden for the most part in a dark room – probably should have used an injector but I have a certain limit below which I won’t use them.

But then at 5pm I had an appointment.  At the eye doctor.

I sat for millennia as the light from a thousand suns poured into first one eye and then the other and they boiled in their sockets.  Molten lava sloshed in the channels of my brain, following a tidal pattern that had no apparent source.   Entire memories and experiences cried out and shriveled up, turning black and blowing away as fine sparkling dust motes.

Then he charged me several hundred bucks and sent me on my way, sweaty and shaken.

****

The Malaysian airliner issue is still out there.  I’ve heard lots of impassioned arguments for it being just an accident, a malfunction, or something less than sinister.

But you just cannot explain away the things that make zero sense.

KT McFarland had an article about what we have learned and what have potential terrorists learned, which is interesting from a “flow of information” standpoint.  The argument being that we have told a lot about how we respond and how lax security is, and how we have learned nothing.

What kind of talk is that?  Seriously?  McFarland has supposedly worked in national security posts and she doesn’t recognize that we’re watching the terrorists very closely right now?  You better believe that they are watching the spider web for telltale vibrations.  Information flow never flows only one way unless one is an idiot.  Our security forces are many things, but idiots?  No.

As a former NSA director told me, we’re still looking at China, Russia and North Korea. We’re not as focused further south, or in the Southern Hemisphere.

We’re looking at China, Russia, and North Korea???  Really?  They are the LAST places I’d look.  Those are stupid ideas.  And those are perfect examples of poor misdirection.

She says also:

… not everyone in the world is sharing information. Our satellites may not be looking south, but maybe Chinese satellites are, especially since Malaysia borders the Strait of Malacca, one of China’s most important trade routes. The Chinese official press has criticized the U.S. for not sharing our satellite data. Are they sharing theirs?

My guess?  China has worked very hard to scrub their data of any information that tells about their sensors and technology first.  Subtle variations in the images tell what kind of apertures exist in their systems, aberrations present, and detector capabilities (noise, readout noise, sensitivity, etc.).  That takes time, so I am not surprised it took so long to distribute what they do have.  Just handing out photos willy-nilly is just giving away information about your capabilities.

… even if we have the technology it isn’t always used, or used correctly. There were three separate instances where the missing plane wasn’t doing what it was supposed to do.  Yet Malaysian air traffic controllers missed them. India has radar but, according to some reports, turns it off at night to save money.

India has radar but turns it off at night.  And that couldn’t possibly have been exploited?  Surely not.

There have been so many stupid things uttered by people who are supposed to be smart that I strongly suspect that there is an energized campaign of misinformation on all sides.  That’s easier to swallow than everyone involved is an idiot.

And another article has the following quote:

“The reason I don’t lean toward it being hijacked and then landed in a foreign country to be used later is that you’ve already advertised that there’s a missing aircraft out there now,” Cane said. “Why would you allow your potential targets to raise their defenses? That’s not the way terrorists operate.”

Have IQ’s dropped precipitously recently?  Did the 1993 Trade Center bombing just totally get forgotten?

Terrorists observe.  What they learn from observing determines how they will act.

Has no one read Sun Tzu’s The Art of War?  The terrorists have.

****

Could someone remind me again what NASA stands for?

Social, economic, and political studies?  Was that what NASA was created to do?

Study of the downfall of civilization?  There is irony there if you dig for it.

****

Proof of life?  No, proof of lie.

NOAA showing its bias for all to see.

 

 

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Got a call from the sitter today.  My daughter had issues at both ends – projectile from one led to explosive reaction at the other.  That is as delicately as I can put it.

Cruel Wife was leaving work at that time anyway and said “Work the extra you need to work and then come home, I’ll deal with it.”

I came in the door and gagged.

Franken-Boy was playing on the Wii, oblivious.  Cruel Wife was in the laundry.  I gagged some more.

CW came up and saw my stomach was rolling and said “Go on, get out of here.”

I leaped at the chance to go to the local CVS to get Ritz™ crackers and some Sprite™ because they just plain stay down easier.  And I figured Girlhead might have an easier time of it, too.

Guess what?  I came back in the door and was exposed to it all over again.

That time I made it to the bathroom as the nausea swelled, but… nope.  Nothing.

I have a really sensitive nose – I’m the canary in the coal mine.  Years ago I went down the street to a buddy’s store and said “Dude, did something burn up today?”

“No.”

“Well, I’m smelling something hot.”

“Can’t smell a thing.”

“Well, I’m telling you something is not right.”

“Nope.  Nothing.”

The next day I came in and he said “Dude, we had a fire last night.  Lucky the place did not burn down.”  He then led me to the spot where a cord to one of the coolers had failed and resulted in a big black section of wall.

As I tell CW, “The nose knows.”

The smell is not getting better.  I’m not getting used to it.

So the question I have is this:

In general, are all men wussier than women when it comes to smells, or are men just by nature given more sensitive schnozzes, or am I a total wimp?

I’m pretty sure I’m a wimp, but I’m curious about the thoughts on the other parts of the question.

****
I do work with this one machine shop all the time and have for the last 12 years or so.

So today my buddy Steel Nerves stopped by. He said a friend’s boy is autistic, too (like mine, but worse, as you’ll see). His buddy asked his son to go to the fridge and get a beer. The kid went and got it and just stood there in front of his dad as you can imagine a totally literal autistic kid would.

So the Dad says, “Don’t just stand there, throw that beer over here.”

Now, if you are the parent of an autistic kid you will understand exactly what I mean when I said my warning bells started to ring shrilly. I said “Oh, no, Steel Nerves… tell me he didn’t…”

Steel Nerves nods and says “Yup, kid hauls off and chucks that bottle as hard as he can and it hits his dad square in the center of the forehead – CRACK! He came around to tell me about it, sporting a HUGE lump dead-center of the forehead – black and blue, mostly black.”

I said “SHEEEIT, Steel Nerves! How old is the boy?”

“Sixteen. Knocked his Dad right the **** out,” and nods matter of factly.

Can you imagine how hard a sixteen year old could hurl a beer bottle at your forehead? Damn.

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Psychic pain.

Oh, how materialistic I am.  This need to possess something I will never ever have, probably won’t even see, much less hold.

Ow.  And no I wasn’t talking about Charlize Theron or Kate Beckinsale or anything like that.  I may be immature, arrogant, and disrespectful of authority but I’m not an animal, for Pete’s sake.  Think of me more like a big dog that talks.

It is a watch that is a thing of beauty.  IWC Portuguese Tourbillon Mystère Squelette

I beseeched Cruel Wife in tones of most urgent need.  “I would like you to say yes, without even thinking about it.  Say yes, that I may have one of these for my very own.”

She replied without even thinking about it.

“No.”

Nothing quite like a swift emotional/spiritual kick to the nuts.  She has earned her stage name honestly.

****

I can’t help but say it again.

Obama is a complete and total flake.  He’s dishonest, he’s scheming, he’s not qualified for the job he is in, and he never should have gotten there because he isn’t there legally.  But that’s all sewage-infested water under the bridge.

What we should focus on is that somehow out of 350 MILLION people, we could not come up with five opponents that look like they have the ability to knock him out of office. This is so amazingly bad it is as if you took a spoiled piece of meat and made a confit with rancid grease and stuffed it in pasta made from ground-up FAIL.  It is so mind-numbingly piss-poor of a showing that I clench up all over in disappointment.  There really is not a word that encapsulates what I want to say.  Nothing comes close in order-of-magnitude.

We could have picked names randomly from the pool of individuals that met the age and naturalized American requirements (ahem) and done as good of a job.

We really stand a better than even chance of winding up with this turkey for four more years.  I would have calculated the odds of being struck by lightning at the exact moment that both you and the rabid bull that was goring you were struck by a meteor as being better than Obama showing up on the first day of a second term.

And what happened?  We walked away with a lineup of assclowns that I wouldn’t trust in a valet service to park my rusted out jeep.

Yes I’m disgusted.  More with each passing day.

****

In case you were wondering, deformable mirrors aren’t just for electrons any more.

You were wondering.  Admit it.

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I suppose one could say that since it is consensual then it is ok but I still find this to be one small step away from inc3st, b3astiality, and dwarf pr0n in terms of repulsive behavior.

Dutch broadcaster to air cannibalism.

****

Aw hell, folks, it’s Grab Ass Tuesday.  Technically it is Wednesday as I post this, but I don’t give a rat’s patootie.

Here’s a joke to warm your heart.  I am told by Cruel Wife that if I ever do this I’m dead meat.

A couple was shopping at the mall on Christmas Eve, and the place was packed. Walking through the crowded mall the wife suddenly looks up and notices her husband is no where in sight. They have so much to do in such a short amount of time, that this really pisses her off. She grabs her cellphone to call him and ask him where the hell he is.
The husband answers in a calm voice says, “Honey, remember the jewelry store we went into 5 years ago where you fell in love with that diamond necklace but we were so broke that we could not afford it, and I told you not to worry, that one day I’d be able to buy it for you?”
She is so touched she begins to cry…”Yes-I remember that jewelry store.”
He said, “Well I’m in the bar right next to it.”
****
Sent to me by a friend of my Dad’s – Salty Nutter – don’t know where he got it.
Yeah, I shot jerky out my nose when I saw it, too.
****
My kitty, Jilly-Boo/Jill/Jillbert (pick one), has been as cute as a kitty can be since I got home from the hospital.  I think she realizes that life is fleeting and moments are precious, that relationships are what really matter.  It’s scritches that make the world purr, dammit.   Pictures get bigger if you click on them.
Jilly-Kitty in Occupy Lemur’s Drawers
Jilly-Boo looking very Cougar-like in Occupy Lemur’s Spare Bedding Foam
Lemur King’s healing neck.  Yes, it hurt.  Yes, I’m pasty-white.
The neck pic… bottom middle is where they hacked out part of my sternum to use in my neck fusion.  A faint “V” to the left of it 2-1/2″ and up 1-1/2″ (“V” pointing to 10 o’clock) is where the drain tube was.  The dark line is where they hacked in using something very similar to Aggie Sith’s Zombie-Killing Machete.
Swallowing is still a chore.  Hurts still but when medicated the hurt is less than what I experienced all day every day prior to the surgery.  I’ve got no complaints.
I even have more strength back.  Before, when I tried to open a bag of tortillas I did not have enough strength in my thumbs and forefingers to open the ziploc bag and ended up cutting the zip-tops off of every bag I came across.  Cruel Wife thought I was being an ass but I figured better to let her think I was an ass than to worry her with things like that.

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Quizzicality.

I am still not quite up to snuff.  It’s nothing bad, I am just taking less painkillers by pure choice and feeling the effects of post-surgery more.

I’m told to stop doing this as being all tensed up and such makes it take that much longer to heal but dammit I’m sick and tired of being drugged.  I know people pay good money for that but I value my brain.

Don’t you worry, I give in when I’ve got no other choice.  I’m a control freak.  What do you want to hear?

I did get out with Cruel Wife and toured her company.

Some roads around Detroit are better than I remember.  Some still suck ass, and those range from feeling like the cobblestones at the end of the Tour de France to feeling like a Hare Scramble in Baja, Mexico.

Slice it any way you like, Detroit roads are hell on neck fusions and it is a LONG drive.  On the ride out there I tensed up, gritted my teeth, made sudden hissing noises.  Sensing that it would be better to distract Cruel Wife and myself from these sounds and thoughts, I struck up a conversation.

LK:  Hey.

CW: What?

LK:  When I meet your new boss, can I screw with his head?

CW:  No.

LK:  Can I subtly push him off balance?

CW:  No.

LK:  Can I plant the seeds for screwing with his head the next time I meet him?

CW:  NO!  No no no no – NO.  Leave him alone.  Wait until you and I both know him better.

LK:  (Pouting)  Man, I enjoy messing with people’s heads.

CW:  I know you do, and so does he in an overt way.  You like to do it stealthily so they don’t get it at first…

LK:  And then, reveal it to them when it will have maximal impact.  Yes.  Yes, I do. 

LK:  (Pause while thinking about it.)  Huh huh huh.

(That’s the laugh women can’t do because they don’t have the right equipment.)

CW:  No, you cannot mess with his head.  Leave him alone.

Sensing it would be better to go back to tensing up, gritting my teeth, and making sudden hissing noises I started doing so.

About 30 long minutes later we had dim-sum with her boss and co-workers.  It was great.  I waddled out of there totally stuffed, loosened the neck brace a few buttons, steadied myself mightily with my walking stick, and we set off for the rest of the day.

Went by her company and got to see all the cool lab testing equipment and this one thing called a magnaflux.

You spray the part you want to look at with this solvent containing a crapload of colloidal magnetic particles.  Then you put the test part in this giant hoop and put a 2000A-5000A pulse through it with a *BANG*.  The part jumps (presumably to let you know that it is fully cooked) and then when you look at it under a black light you can see fluorescing cracks where the particles are aligned with the induced B-field.  It’s really quite cool.   It helps greatly if you believe in electrons when explaining the large-current part but if we just assume that the magnetic field was let out of a bottle of magnetism† then everyone walks away happy.

† Yes, I believe in electrons.  I just can’t see them so they kind of piss me off.  What can I say?  I was attacked by a clown as a child and my dad was an electrician, opening me up for getting the feces zapped out of me a few times.  The evil clown probably isn’t relevant but I thought I’d throw it in there.  Dad argued that it was my fault (sure, blame the victim) and I pointed my unburned fingers at the electrons which unsurprisingly didn’t show themselves any more, acting all innocent-ey.

Oh, the quiz part… Are you scientifically literate?

I got a 92% (missed 4).  I don’t feel too badly about it because the ones I missed had to do with planetary moons around gas giants (why clutter my brain with useless stuff that I can always go look up?), the whole “Pluto isn’t a planet” idiocy (like I give a sh*t), heaviest noble gas of which I never once used for anything (I’m partial to Helium, Xenon, Argon, Krypton, thank you), and one on cellular growth.   I have nothing to be ashamed of.

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All right folks.  I may have done something not so smart Saturday night but it was because I felt so good I didn’t even think about it.  We have a hand-chopper (Blitzhacker) thing and I was chopping up pickles.  Six hits, light ones, with my right hand…. and bazinga.  Not sure what happened, probably nothing bad but it was kind of painful.  Intensely related to my neck.  Hurts other places.

Damn damn damn.

Anyway, this next snippet of story takes balls.  Castrating of lambs can be hazardous to your health.  Especially if you use your teeth.

****

So if you are sitting there in your back yard and the rich kid up on the hill is using his iPad helicopter to spy on your sister while she sunbathes and takes pictures of you doing … things… and then uses pictures of both for his own uses and shares them with the other neighbors…  do you give him back his iQuadcopter when it lands in your yard?

I think Iran is a bunch of slimy bastards but somehow Obama calling them up and telling them they *have* to give our stealth craft back… boy would I ever tell him to stuff it if I were in their shoes.

Iran is a bunch of douchebags that should be bombed the rest of the way back into the stone ages before they are actually able to strike Israel.   But at the same time I don’t blame them for saying to the US “Hey, thanks, free spy-plane!”

“We obviously believe strongly in a diplomatic approach. We want to see the Iranians engage and, as you know, we have attempted to bring about that engagement over the course of the last three-plus years. It has not proven effective, but we are not giving up on it,” [Secretary of State Hilary Clinton] said.

What isn’t said as loudly by the Obama administration:

Yeah, we’ve seen how lots of sucking up and bowing has really proven less effective in controlling the leaders of rogue nations and human-rights-trampling nations than we would have thought.   We really thought toadying up and acting all beta-male would be respected by these regimes and they would fall right in line with our new Metrosexual Alpha-Shemale approach – you know, the one President Obama keeps demonstrating time and time again?  It’s designed to make everyone think you’re alpha male without you ever having to be that way – it’s much safer, we think.

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A cut above…

Cruel Wife found our kitties, Jill and Jack, lying on my side of the bed on top of one of my shirts bestowing Catsmus blessings upon the Holy Chicken of Christmas while I was in the hospital.  High Priestess Cruel Wife delivered the HC^2 to the altar next to my bed.   Now, if you are squeamish, just be content with the kitties and do not scroll down.

Here I have been blessed with the HC^2′s Anointment of Anonymity.  Yes, that gash looks like something that Aggie of Sith would bestow using her Machete of Zombie Filleting +4.   Correction, that is what it would look like if Aggie used a machete and lots of Wound Sealant compound instead of sutures.  Apparently this doc is not a fan of catgut and rarely uses a knot where a squirt of something else will do.

Below is what the x-ray showed once the plate was installed.  Disc taken out, piece of my sternum popped in, and plate and screws from a door hinge from Lowe’s. (I asked that they use the Redneck Grab-bag Special rather than the fancy-schmancy Ti6Al4V golden-child formulations)

Yes.

My. Head.  Is.   Being.    Held.     On.      Using.       Two.         Screws.

I suspect that the vertical wire is for the longer-range antennae that is connected to the fish-hooks the government installed in my brain years ago.  Mind control.  It’s all about mind control.

I can’t even feel the piece of sternum that they stole.  Can’t feel the screws all that much.  Can feel the incision and the sore neck ligaments that got stretched out.

I have some problems swallowing, which puts a damper on my food intake, but that’s not such a bad thing.  I chew my food much more thoroughly and enjoy each bite more because taking a big huge swallow isn’t really all that much fun.

This morning the doc chastised me for babying my neck.  He said “Tip your head all the way to the right.   No, you can move it more than that.  Ok, now the left… uh huh… tip it all the way back…. forward now… more… more…”

I said “But… but… ok, the physical and occupational therapists came in and told me all these things that I have to do in a certain way, how to hold my head, how to move to get out of bed…”

He looks at me with this “I pity you” look and says “Who are you going to listen to?  Them or me?  Listen to ME.  I’ve done lots of these.  Your bones are more solid than 99% of the other people’s out there† – you have very strong bones.  You could get in a car accident and you’d be fine.  Don’t baby it.”

I shook his hand for like the tenth time today, able to feel his hand with all five fingers and said “Thanks Doc, really.”

There is independent corroboration on the bone toughness thing.  Years ago when I had my arm mangled in the machine at the plywood plant the orthopedic surgeon (we’ll call her Dr. Frigide) had to enlist the help of a family friend, also a doctor (we’ll call him Doc Peter Relief).  Apparently they were having a horrible time getting the screws installed properly even with oversized holes in the arm bones.  Dr. Frigide wasn’t the largest gal in the world but she was a physical anomaly – she was a blackbody radiator hovering around 2-3K.  The room would drop by 10-15 degrees when she walked in.  She was straining to get them in my even a few turns and Doc PR was sweating profusely by the time the deed was done even with her there to cool things off.    They could only figure that years of lifting heavy weights and draining cows of their daily output (plus genetics) led to some strong bones and kept them from being shattered much worse than they were.   Osteoporosis is likely not going to be one of the things I’ll be afflicted with when I grow older.

I’ll have a more in-depth recounting of the day tomorrow.

Update:  Perhaps the fingers-sensation-free-of-tinglies tingly feeling that I was getting was a bit premature.  I suppose good days and bad days exist here, too.  But, there’s been no neck and arm pain still.  I’ve got no complaints there.

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I am now hooked up to a sedative. See, everyone that comes in sees a calm individual.

Had the anesthesiologist say “your appearance fooled me but not your vitals. So I am going to order up something.”

Bless you, child.

Cruel Wife is sitting 3 feet away banging on her laptop.

And as i said, I just got my sedatives and iV painkiller. Very smooth.

So I am going to knock off for now.

LK

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Soon… soon…

Tomorrow is the surgery.  Fused-disc time.  No more foolin’ around.

I think you will be pleased with tomorrow’s posting.  Pleasantly so.

A friend has been invited to play and he accepted.  He will pour forth upon these pages a fun and twisted story.  He darkles.  He tincts.  Yar.

Or something like that.

All that comes to mind is:

Your soul is so dark it smudges mine.  – Zebra speaking to Rat, Pearls Before Swine

That’s not a negative commentary on our guest poster.  My soul has plenty of dark already.

Seriously, that is all that comes to mind.  I’m blank right now.  Even random stuff that normally comes to me is kaput.  And usually my brain NEVER stops spinning – at least three levels working at a time (which is not as fun as it might sound, in truth).  Today?  Nothing.

Oh well.  More later, eh?

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Pressure points

They did a discography today.

Note:  Many thanks to The Dude (aka Wilson to my House) for taking a half day off and driving me to and from the procedure.  Cruel Wife couldn’t originally get the time off but then came down with a nasty cold and so I’m keeping her at least one room away rather than catch it before surgery.  Spaced Diode was going to but then he got called off to San Antonio for work travel (poor bastard).

Imagine you are lying on your back, no sedative, and a looooooong needle is inserted in the front left right side of your neck so it can puncture the discs on the left side and inflate them. the needle goes through your entire neck diagonally.

Imagine that happening multiple times.

I’ve attached a horizontally-flipped image and put arrows on it to show where they stick you.  Think of it then going for the left side of the spine.

Simply put, it is rather painful when they pump fluid into a disc.

I can think of things I would rather do.

Luckily I have painkillers now. Still smarts but the sharp edges have been taken off.

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Happy Thanksgiving folks!

We were going to go to a retaurant for dinner but got invited to a Thanksgiving dinner at the last moment.  The friend of mine up at the UofM.

He felt guilty that he wouldn’t be able to take me to tdo test procedure on Monday because he’d be on travel to San Antonio next week but he’ll be driving me to/from the surgery.  I told him to stop feeling guilty.

Next Monday is the procedure where they pressurize the disc in my neck.  My understanding is that it hurts like he’ll so I am looking forward to it.  It turns out that The Dude can drive me.  So he’ll get some good laughs.

But today, we feast.  Hope you all have a good time with family and friends!

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Slaughterhouse Rules.

Saw the surgeon today.  He listened to my symptoms, asked a number of questions, and explained what he thought was going on.

So two discs look like they are problematic and he says there’s no question he wants to remove them and fuse the vertebrae.

There’s another symptom I’m having, and it has to do with the shoulder pain.  He says the MRI doesn’t show anything but the symptoms fit exactly what you’d see with involvement of a third disc.  The plan there is to do a disc-pumpy-fluffy procedure† where they pressurize the disc with a contrast dye dissolved in diesel oil and see if it exacerbates the symptoms and pain.

I said “Hey, doc, I don’t mean to sound like a whiny little girl but pain scares me, especially on top of what I have already got.”

December 7 is the date set and some few days before that the plan is to do the disc-pumpy-fluffy-up procedure so I don’t have to wait extra long in that “enhanced state” of agony.

Told the doc that if he wanted to schedule it next Monday I would break my leg getting over to where to sign the paperwork.  He nodded and said “I know.”

The point being that if he needs to be doing that other disc he’d just as soon open me up once and only once and get them all done with.  I’m ok with that.

Yeah, there’s going to be pain but what I’ve been dealing with for the last four years hasn’t been living.  My son doesn’t know what it’s like to have a daddy who can do stuff with him.  It’ll be pain worth having.

I keep thinking (1) I have a doctor and a surgeon that believe me and are willing to do something, and (2) I have some hope now.

† Also referred to as a discography

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Franken-boy turned six recently.  The wrap-around in the title has more to do with a python wrapped around a limb this weekend than any intellectual exercise.

Some weekends we usually go to this small coffee shop a half hour away and hang out with my buddy from the UofM.  About a month ago we were there and we had someone give us a flyer to a reptile zoo.  We offered to the boy the chance to have his birthday party with a bunch of snakes and lizards or Chuck E. Cheese’s.  I would argue that either place gives you snakes and lizards but the zoo has higher-quality ones.

Here is the question:

Do six year old boys like birthday parties if they involve snakes and lizards?

Do frogs have watertight assh*les?  Of course they do!  Are bears Catholic?  Does the Pope crap in the woods?  Do Occupy America losers sniff their own farts?

We got the party favors, Cruel Wife baked a snake-cake, we brought in pop, and we made a pizza run partway through the party.

What was there?  Glad you asked, because that is what I asked.  There were:

  1. Pythons
  2. Chameleons
  3. Tortoises
  4. Bearded Dragons
  5. Blue-Tongued Skinks (minor disappointment on my part when I learned that it was skinks and not skanks, but in the context we were working in, skinks really made more sense)
  6. Boas
  7. Rhino Iguanas (will charge anything but didn’t use a single credit card while we were there)
  8. Monitor lizards
  9. Crickets (food)
  10. Madagascar Hissing Cockroaches (maybe food)
  11. Scorpions†
  12. Tarantulas‡
  13. Brazilian Pink Salmon Bird Eating Tarantula (say that even once really fast, I dare you)
  14. Uromastyxes
  15. More criters
  16. Still more critters
  17. And more critters

† My least favorite animal  (tied for first place with earwigs)

‡ My second least favorite animal

The coolest part was near the end where they brought out some of the animals and let the kids hold them.  Blue-Tongued Skinks are cool.

The boy grinned from ear-to-ear with a big cheesy grin when he got to hold a real-live snake.  He was in awe when a 20 foot python hung down from it’s branch and was 6 inches from the boy’s nose (separated by glass).  Boy and snake stared at each other for minutes and minutes, which is pretty good for an autistic kid.

Meanwhile we were monitored by the Monitor Lizard who stood on it’s hind legs and monitored us as we went through the exhibits.  He did his job well.

****

I saw the pain clinic people again today.  I have officially given in and reluctantly agreed to higher doses of painkillers.  After months of the worsened state of discomfort from the herniated discs I gave up, especially since the neck and head are killing me (figuratively) and the arm and hand don’t feel all that much different from being scalded with hot water.   The only thing this afternoon that kept me from chopping my arm off at the elbow was the knowledge that it wouldn’t accomplish anything.

No, painkillers don’t help all that much for chronic pain but they take the sharp screaming edges off.

Friday is the meeting with another surgeon, and hopefully this guy will have a better solution.

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