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The Original O'l Farts Club.
- Thread starter Putembk
- Start date
My x wife is.....
@bigsur51
I suffered migraines since the age of 11.
Took every imaginable drug available to no relief.
Imitrex subcutaneous did knock out a migraine but
left me feeling horrible for days.
I had em bad too... sometimes 3-4 days at a stretch.
Finally, in the 80's I found a new doc who did help
w/ the Imitrex when I told her that I lay there in agony
trying to figure out how to chop my head off with out dying.
No one else in my family has ever had migraines.
Cannabis did help if I could catch it at onset.
Otherwise the smell would make me barf (as did
any thing odorous though).
I did learn along the way that as we age, they 'should'
reduce in frequency, intensity and duration.
I was hopeful but not really convinced.
I am now nearly 67 and haven't had even a regular headache
for nearly 7years.
Perhaps there is hope that yours will also abate in time.
I suffered migraines since the age of 11.
Took every imaginable drug available to no relief.
Imitrex subcutaneous did knock out a migraine but
left me feeling horrible for days.
I had em bad too... sometimes 3-4 days at a stretch.
Finally, in the 80's I found a new doc who did help
w/ the Imitrex when I told her that I lay there in agony
trying to figure out how to chop my head off with out dying.
No one else in my family has ever had migraines.
Cannabis did help if I could catch it at onset.
Otherwise the smell would make me barf (as did
any thing odorous though).
I did learn along the way that as we age, they 'should'
reduce in frequency, intensity and duration.
I was hopeful but not really convinced.
I am now nearly 67 and haven't had even a regular headache
for nearly 7years.
Perhaps there is hope that yours will also abate in time.
Big fight coming......
I think if he slowed down on all of his indoor activities to half speed may help replenish fluids and lower his barometric pressure
Well, Grasshopper... I have been all over the world and came to the conclusion that the weather, land, and gemutlicheit folks all can be found in south Floriduh.
Some people find the endless summer to be quite enjoyable. Going to the beach on a day that has snow up there in the mountains.
And the barometric pressure is gonna be higher than the High Plains just about all the fargin time. Making you more distant from the triggering.
Death valley
OK -- Here's whatcha do... when they come in, grab that bandage and start sucking on it. Tell them you want more bacon.Naaa - vertically that's a piece of surgical sticky tape - over a 12 inch cut - made to access the heart- after cracking thru the sternum - then winching it all apart -
Horizontally - below that - it does look a bit baconesque - I'll give ya that - probably some blood and tape mix -
- thing is they don't serve no bacon for breakfast in this hospital - too many complain'in kosher's and halal's - all getting 'offended' by it I 'spose - man can't even get a full English breakfast in an English hospital these days - WTF is this world coming to?
Oh, hell... That just triggered a true story that I wrote for a magazine. I am gonna try to look it up and see if I should post it.
Awright -- found it. Since it is hospital-related, I'm going for it. Turn the page.
Ahh - so was that 'the special mission?' - <spooky Hammond Organ music>
Good thing your not one of those people who don't react fully to the anesthesia. Your brief but descriptive words give me the "heebie-jeebies" thinking about that.Naaa - vertically that's a piece of surgical sticky tape - over a 12 inch cut - made to access the heart
Horizontally - below that - it does look a bit baconesque - I'll give ya that - probably some blood and tape mix -
- thing is they don't serve no bacon for breakfast in this hospital - too many complain'in kosher's and halal's - all getting 'offended' by it I 'spose - man can't even get a full English breakfast in an English hospital these days - WTF is this world coming to?
I remember my great grandfather talking about all the changes he seen in his 100years. Now I am living my own changes and like you wondering, where is all this going.
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His reach goes beyond the pond my friend ,.proceed with caution
Who knows, each person is different of course.
I could never figure out any particular 'trigger'.
They just came on like a freight train and blam, knocked me down.
I is my understanding that it is a chemical in the brain that agitates
nerves which then create another chemical that stimulates the original
to send out more chemical.
It becomes this round and around until...?
Dunno.
I only know from experience that they are painful like nothing else
and I was completely debilitated until they would subside.
A Cup Of Sweetness…
c Walt C. Snedeker
c Walt C. Snedeker
As The Fabled PC, my long-suffering Scottish spouse likes to point out, I have the mind of a child. It’s true; I keep it in a jar under the bed.
My sense of humor, she says, sometimes ought to have its license revoked. This last pronouncement came as a result of some small misbehavior on my part that took place in the local hospital.
Seems that I needed to have knee surgery. Ouch. And the deal was that since this was a scheduled affair, I was to give my own blood for the future operation. Side Note: I have since discovered by talking with Scooter (my-son-the-doctor) that they don’t need this blood for these operations. They use it for the beautiful rose bushes outside on the hospital grounds. But this information is to remain strictly between us folks. Back to the story.
So I go on down to the hospital, and go through all the depositions, mortgages, interviews, and entrail divinings that hospital minions delight in inflicting upon us lowly civilians to prepare for this blood donation. Having been fingerprinted and DNA’d, retinal-scanned, and my genealogy confirmed for seven generations, they passed me to the Second Stage.
That’s the one where they have ten chairs that were left over from a movie about Auschwitz and Dr. Mengele, all empty, with tubes and syringes and other scary things hanging from them. Of course, even though there is nobody else giving blood, there has to be a fifteen minute wait (to build up your blood pressure, I can only assume). Finally, in comes Dr. Quasimodo with a gasoline can and a razor to get some blood from my quivering alabaster bod.
So I go on down to the hospital, and go through all the depositions, mortgages, interviews, and entrail divinings that hospital minions delight in inflicting upon us lowly civilians to prepare for this blood donation. Having been fingerprinted and DNA’d, retinal-scanned, and my genealogy confirmed for seven generations, they passed me to the Second Stage.
That’s the one where they have ten chairs that were left over from a movie about Auschwitz and Dr. Mengele, all empty, with tubes and syringes and other scary things hanging from them. Of course, even though there is nobody else giving blood, there has to be a fifteen minute wait (to build up your blood pressure, I can only assume). Finally, in comes Dr. Quasimodo with a gasoline can and a razor to get some blood from my quivering alabaster bod.
A palsied gnome with thick, clumsy fingers began to probe various parts of my arm with a section of epoxied garden hose, eventually causing a serious serous flow to ensue. Kewl. Some minutes later, having donated my own gore, they gave me one of those apple juice containers with the foil lid.
You know the kind: they hand them out in airplanes. No matter how carefully you attempt to peel back the foil, the pressurized juice is guaranteed to erupt, so that ALL the passengers can have the experience of dumping apple juice all over themselves.
I'm a fairly large and healthy guy, so I really don't need a sugar hit after giving a pint of blood... that’s why I decided to put the unopened container in my pocket, so I could open it later when I had my wetsuit on.
I got up to leave, when a particularly acerbic lady in a nurse’s outfit suddenly brayed at me: "Hey! You... if that's yer name! You ain't going nowhere."
I got up to leave, when a particularly acerbic lady in a nurse’s outfit suddenly brayed at me: "Hey! You... if that's yer name! You ain't going nowhere."
It wasn’t easy, Gentle Reader to withhold the entire series of comments that this straight line handed me, but I was noble. I looked over at her. Her nametag identified her as Miss Demeanor.
I was obviously something that annoyed her (I was a patient, albeit only temporary, and ambulatory at that – a double annoyance to her.)
She sighed and snorted at the same instant – an accomplishment which I found impressive – and imperiously beckoned me to the foot of her throne.
"Here, take this and go give me a sample."
“This” was one of those little plastic cups (you know the ones) and she pointed a peremptory finger at the potty door. Ever obedient as always. (Ah, an interruption – The Fabled PC is reading this as I relate it, and her comment on that “obedient” quote has just disproved the adage that two positives cannot make a negative: Regarding it, she says, “Yeah, right!”)"Here, take this and go give me a sample."
Getting back to the story, I walked into the aforementioned potty… and the Devil bit me right on the butt.
I took out the container of apple juice, ripped off the top, and poured the contents into the specimen cup. The empty container went into the convenient wastebasket thoughtfully provided by the hospital housekeeping folks.
When I came out of the potty proudly waving my brimming specimen cup, Miss Demeanor got her PMS in high gear.
"You are supposed to leave it in there on the shelf, not bring it out here!" This, with a rolling of the eyes and a sigh that Hillary Rodham would die for.
Sooo... I sez very politely: "Dang, Miss Demeanor, ma'am, I'm powerful sorry I didn't read your mind, and therefore have apparently made it so this here sample is contaminated. Tell you what: I’ll just recycle it for you!”
With a nice flourish, I upended the specimen cup and drank it down.
Miss Demeanor went ballistic. Absolutely nuts.
Miss Demeanor went ballistic. Absolutely nuts.
She went echoing down the hallway, calling for Security, doctors, and probably the cotton-picking FBI.
A lot of folks immediately gathered round, so I quickly went into the potty, retrieved the empty apple juice container and showed it to them with my charming boyish smile.
A couple of the doctors began laughing so hard they spotted.
A couple of the doctors began laughing so hard they spotted.
When Miss Demeanor came back, EVERYBODY was laughing (and several were pointing at HER, with tears in their eyes).
She was the only one what didn't see the humor of the situation.
Kinda difficult to do the 'sucking on the bandage' bit Walt - since that pic was from 3 weeks ago now - but I will remember that bacon
gambit - for the next time I'm in such a heavy surgical situation - might get a few dark comedy guffaw's - at the very least -Everything changes. It always has. It always will. It makes no sense to fight it. We need to adapt to it. Only accept the things that you find usefull and ignore everything else. Surround yourself with the things and people that you love. live in the present moment in the space that you occupy now. Worry and anger will kill you faster than anything else.
“ Peace lies not in the world, but in the man who walks the path”
- Buddhist proverb -
“ Peace lies not in the world, but in the man who walks the path”
- Buddhist proverb -
My back is feeling a lot better, thankyou
My daughter, resident dog whisperer thpught it was either a Leonberger or a Estrela Mountain dog.
It's a cutie, that's for sure.
Hope everyone's well oiled and medicated.
Thx. Never heard Willy doing this.
As much as I love Willy, this is still my fav:
The vid from The Smother's Brothers is the version I most remember
as it was soooo trippy! All avail on YT is of poor quality
Edit to add:
I still have the original KR & 1st. Edition 45 record in my collection.
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you mean the 90’s on that Imitrex right….it was only approved for medical use in 1991 cause I had tried everything up to that point in time the 80’s and I didn’t discover Imitrex until around 1995
what the hell man @Gypsy NirvanaNaaa - vertically that's a piece of surgical sticky tape - over a 12 inch cut - made to access the heart
Horizontally - below that - it does look a bit baconesque - I'll give ya that - probably some blood and tape mix -
- thing is they don't serve no bacon for breakfast in this hospital - too many complain'in kosher's and halal's - all getting 'offended' by it I 'spose - man can't even get a full English breakfast in an English hospital these days - WTF is this world coming to?
i thought you were just going in for another one of your spa days!
now they got you laid up with meat pasted to your chest
thats not just bacon, that shit is ribboned with fat!
get well soon
