St. Patrick’s Day: A Retrospective
A happy group of college seniors get in line at the bar at 5am, only to wait nearly two hours to enter. While standing in line, one bright individual who had already been let into the bar decides to repeatedly heckle this fine group of Americans, even choosing to moon them through the window. Minutes after this picture was taken, that same dude tried to leave the bar while still talking trash. This leads to a quite literal gang-beating, with the final blow delivered by large man standing in the back of this photo, former Michigan lineman, and current CFL combine record-setter Michael Knill. Asshole crumples into a heap outside, we are satisfied, and St. Patty’s Day begins.
There are no photos from St. Patty’s ‘08. This is good news for all who were involved in St. Patty’s ‘08.
The epic battle of Emily v. Burrito (she loves when I post this picture). Also, the last time I was “sick” and my last non-chemo related vomit. Due to said burrito.
GIN BUCKETTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT! What’s a gin bucket? Gin bucket.
Sad faux-artistic photo of sad St. Patty's Day ‘07 shirt and Oxycodone.
How far I have fallen.
If there’s ever a moment when you realize your “College Days” are over, it has to be the first St. Patrick’s Day after graduation. Sure, I was in law school for the past three years. But that’s not terribly different from college. In fact, it’s almost like a regression back to high school. In any event, you still have the ability to take an entire weekday off to go drinking, and nobody is going to yell at you. That’s not real life.
Now? Well now, even if I was perfectly fine, I wouldn’t have too many friends to go drinking with me at noon. Now, I can’t even stay vertical long enough to get drunk. Now, I’m on SuperPills that warn you to wean yourself off of them slowly if you take them for more than couple days so you don’t experience withdrawal symptoms.
(Side note: The bottle warns me “alcohol intensifies effect.” Uh…isn’t this the worst warning ever. It doesn’t say, “Do not consume alcohol while taking this drug.” It literally tells me that alcohol “intensifies” the effect of this already intense drug. Sure, it tells me to use care when operating machines. But I don’t operate too many machines these days. If I wasn’t a responsible human being and/or incapacitated, this would be a terrible thing to write on a bottle. It’s like writing “Warning! This can get you twice as drunk for a quarter of the cost!” Dumb label).
I’ve long known “it” was over, but I’ve been pretty preoccupied every single day since June 1st. Haven’t really had time to think about it. It didn’t really set in until today. To say the least, it was depressing.
Which was unfortunate, because otherwise, I had a very good day. Only very minor, sporadic headaches. Strong periods of vertical activity. Able to get some work done. Thursday afternoon was my D-Day: if I wasn’t feeling better by then, I was going to head back up to Hopkins to patch the damn spinal leak.
Of course, I was paranoid all day. I envisioned whatever it was that had “patched” the hole was hanging on by a thread, and thought that I could dislodge it if I did jumping jacks or moved around too much. So I moved gingerly all day, not wanting to walk too far or make too many movements so as to re-spring a leak in my spinal column. I have no idea if any of this makes any biological or anatomical sense whatsoever, but it made sense in my mind, so that’s all that matters. I would even look forward to recharging over the weekend and being ready to go next week…except I’m scheduled to do this again next Wednesday.
But such is life. I’m really anxious to get some more info on various tests. I should know more about the CSF analysis on Wednesday, and I’ll hopefully have my third PET scan disc with me so we can compare images, although it appears the first shipment of discs somehow got “lost” by UPS so…if you see my PET scans anywhere, let me know. I imagine I’ll be an exponentially happier person in about two weeks. Provided nothing bad turns up in the final two tests. And my spine cooperates. And nothing else comes up.
One can hope.