Gut Rumbles

March 22, 2006


I didn't write anything yesterday. I felt like Fido's ass. I suppose that I'm going through a healing process, but a pain like a throbbing toothache settled in my belly and just wouldn't quit all day. I tried walking. (That's a laugh--- just imagine the stove-up scuttling of an arthritic crab, only not so graceful.) I tried sitting. I tried various positions in the bed and on my sofa. I couldn't get comfortable or stop hurting no matter what I did.

Did you ever develop a "stitch" in your side while running? Well, just imagine that stitch running from your sternum to your crotchital area and covering BOTH sides at once. That's what I had, only worse. I believe the doc bruised my innards when he cut on me.

I feel better today. Once I finally managed to go to sleep last night, I fell into a 12-hour coma filled with tumultuous dreams of booger-men chasing me with baseball bats and chainsaws. I think I had a long conversation with my dead father, too. The weirdness quotient was very high.

Today I feel no worse than if I were kicked in the gut by a large and ornery mule, and that's a vast improvement from yesterday. I don't want to jinx myself, but I'm hoping that the worst is over now. I don't go back to the doctor for my follow-up visit until Monday, and I think I've suffered enough already to tide me over until then.

The good news is that I'm not running any fever, my wound appears to be healing with no infection and I'm almost able to talk again. Besides, if I can sit in this computer chair without feeling as if someone just ran a red-hot spear through my innards, I'm better off than I was.

One thing that really chaps my Cracker ass is the fact that I can't plant my garden this week. A nice rain fell yesterday morning, perfect for wetting in the fertilizer I spread, and today appears to be a real beauty, with blue skies and sunshine. I already missed St. Patrick's Day for planting my Silver Queen corn, and every day that passes now is one more day past prime conditions. I just ain't up to doing it right now.

But I AM up to thanking this lovely lady for calling to check up on me and to ask if there was anything she could do to help me out. I've met some effervescent, incandescent, cheerful, outgoing, enthusiastic people in my life, but Kelly puts most of those folks to shame. She's a spotlight among 20-watt bulbs. Bejus! If she could syphon off some of her good-vibe energy and bottle it, I would buy a case.

Heh. I'm going to fix her happy wagon the next time she does that. I'm going to moan piteously, whimper in pain and ask her to come clean my house.


I hope we get some of that rain soon. I have the garden plots planted and every thing is doing well but I am having to irragate twice a day. The damn wind is drying everything out too fast.

Posted by: GUYK on March 22, 2006 12:34 PM

I'd be happy to clean your house...while you watched my three minions...LOL, You mean to world to us...okay...enough mushy shit...what can you watch my demon spawn? BWAHAHAHAHAHAH

Posted by: Kellie Harmon on March 22, 2006 02:15 PM

oops...when can you..not what..see what they do to me?

Posted by: Kellie Harmon on March 22, 2006 02:17 PM

... happy healing, Rob... good to hear you are mending....

Posted by: Eric on March 22, 2006 02:21 PM

All your guts are in a sack, called the peritoneum. That sack is chock-full of very sensitive nerve endings; far more so than, say, your actual guts. Peritonitis is when that sack gets inflamed. So, yeah, the whole thing hurts.

I had peritonitis when my appendix ruptured. I was 14. For weeks afterward, my mom kept telling me to stand up straight. I was like, "I AM standing up straight!" But really I was kinda hunched over.

Hope you get to standing up straight again, soon.

Posted by: dipnut on March 22, 2006 02:31 PM

I don't know which is the lesser of two evils.
Cleaning Rob's house or watching Kellie's little darlings.
heh heh heh heh.......

Posted by: Maeve on March 22, 2006 04:16 PM

better take your number six arm with you next time you go to the hospital.

Posted by: leo on March 22, 2006 05:15 PM

You're still a wuss. Drop and give me twenty.

Posted by: Steve H. on March 22, 2006 06:40 PM

Kelly is wonderful isn't she? Let her take care of you!

Posted by: livey on March 22, 2006 07:47 PM

If they had to cut through muscle tissue to get to your ulcer, that's probably why you're in such pain. When my gall bladder ruptured, I got a sternum through belly button incision that went through all my abdominals to clean me out. I woke up screaming when they moved me back into my bed after the surgery.

Man, I don't like remembering that.

Posted by: Russ on March 23, 2006 09:59 AM

I was concerned when I didn't see a post because you are one of the marathon bloggers of all time.

Glad to know you are feeling better.

You are one tough cookie.

Posted by: A Different Kim on March 23, 2006 10:02 PM


It's called a C-section. You're allowed to bitch when you also have an infant sucking on your tits every two hours.


Posted by: cj on March 23, 2006 10:32 PM

What they did, A-man, was fillet you open like a fresh-caught snook, then they clamped the edges of the incision to a frame that surrounded you on your surgical gurney. Those clamps hold you open so the surgeons can work in the cavity to repair the whatever and clean out the cavity, which migh involve pulling out all your guts and laying them aside whilst they scrub down the mess you've made while you were perforated.

The end result is that you have bruises INSIDE your abdomen. You can only hope that the clamps didn't do any permanent damage, such as to the bladder....

Posted by: Rivrdog on March 24, 2006 12:10 AM
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