Walk a WHAT with no shoes???

But I don’t want to walk down there.

“But don’t you want to see where you’ve been for the past few days?”

I know where I’ve been, I even know where I am. I’ve been in a hospital that slipped me a Mickey the other day, took my knee out, put in a replacement made of LEGO™ building blocks, and sold my old one to some rich Chinese guy who ground it up and smoked it and now believes that his gout is cured and his penis is three inches longer.

“My, don’t we have an active imagination.”

Mister, considering the pain I’ve been in and the rock-em-knock-em medications you’ve been feeding me, I been living on imagination and saltine crackers.

“Well, considering that, you can’t really believe all of what you just said.”

Yeah, you got me there. My knee wasn’t as young as it used to be. Guy’s probably only going to get two inches.

People in hospitals don’t seem to quite understand what they do. They cut you open, saw or gnaw out a part of you, put in a fake piece, close you up, put a big band-aid on it, put you a room and then come back fifteen minutes later and ask you if you want to go for a walk.

And what’s worse, they so, so damn nice about it.

So, this is my world for the moment, and you’re welcome to it. It ain’t so bad, really. Food’s decent. Drugs are excellent, which probably makes the food decent. All the damn clothes don’t have anything in back, though. These folks definitely are ass people.

l’ll be leaving here in a few hours, which means they’ll be lighting up the “Vacancy” sign soon. If you happen to be limpy or gimpy, c’mon down!

Remember, there’s a couple million more rich Chinese guys where mine came from.

Advertisements

I fought the pain …

… and the pain won.

You know, walking is vastly overrated. You’d think by now we would have come up with a cure for it. I mean, I’ve walked all over the place for more than 50 years now, where else do I really have to go?

Been there, done that. It’s about time that people and places started coming to me. Yeah.

For two days, I’ve been staring at a large piece of me – my right leg – laying as if it were dead to me. They call it a pain block. Freaky feeling for sure, but it had its advantages. First and foremost, if I didn’t feel my leg, I also didn’t feel what had been done to it.

I found out what that was around 2:30 a.m. Woke me up out of dead sleep. If my knee had a face, it would have been Al Pacino’s Tony Montoya, smiling up at me.

“Let me introduce you to my leeeettle frien’!”

I called for backup. Grabbed the TV remote/light-turner-on-er/GET ME A FREAKIN NURSE NOW thingie. They anticipated my call. There was a button marked PAIN.

“Can i help you?”

Oh yeah you can – either you can get the number of the ambulance that just ran over my leg, or grab the nearest sterile hand grenade, pull the hypo-allergenic pin and toss it in here! Latex gloves optional!

“I’ll bring you something for the pain.”

God bless you – anything, as long as it’s lethal.

“Oh, Mr.Waterman, you’re so funny.”

Nice to know I can maintain my sense of humor in the face of such excruciating adversity. I ought to have them rolling in the halls when they have me try walking later today.

Anybody know the words to “Tears of a Clown”?