Gut Rumbles

February 20, 2008

Moms are moms

Originally published July 5, 2003

I can identify with this post. It reminds me of MY mama. She can get fired up sometimes.

But she still loves little Robbie, her first-born son. I'm going to have my pump installed next Wednesday. Who do you think I called to ask about coming to pick me up from the hospital when my dick transplant is complete? MY MAMA, that's who.

And she agreed to do it.

I'm going to drive myself to the hospital, then have one of my friends take me back to pick up my truck when I feel able to drive. My mama will bring me home after the surgery. I just hope that she doesn't feel compelled to hang around and nurse me. Mamas feel that nursing urge strongly, but in this case I would rather be left alone with a handful of percodan and a box of white zin for a day or so.

The Second in Command, Nurse Ultimate, at my urologist's office says that I will be sore and bruised for "a few days" because of the procedure. I asked her, "How sore?" and she responded, "That depends on your pain threshold."

I told her that my pain threshold sucked and I wanted lots of wookie pills to make me feel better. "You'll get whatever you need," she replied. I started whining in pain right then. "Can I get some to practice with?" I asked. She threw me out of the office and told me to go wook myself.

It looks like everything is set. I get the lab work done on Tuesday and get reborn on Wednesday. My mama will drive me home afterward. They booked me in a 23-hour outpatient room, but as soon as I can walk, I'm leaving. And I lied about my pain threshold. Put me in a hospital room and I have an AMAZING ability to overcome pain if it means getting my Cracker ass out of there.

For a few days, I'll probably end up with something I've seen only in porno movies: A Big, Black Dick. But it's better than what I've been toting for the last 20 months. I threw away the elixer three months ago. I still have 15 hypodermic needles and an unlimited prescription for more. Plus, I have an unlimited prescription for Viagra.

I need to become a heroin addict who sells back-market Viagra. I can be a stoned pony selling little purple pills to people with limp dicks. Hell, after learning to give myself an injection in Roscoe, shooting myself in the arm would be a piece of cake. Guys, think about it. Does "hypodermic needle" and "my dick" go together? OF COURSE NOT!

But I have done that. I will never do it again. I can't wait for Wednesday, when my mama is going to drive me home.

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