The Bourbon Logs

It’s official: i’m converting from whatever it was that i previously was - an “agreeable somnambulance” maybe is the best way to describe it - to a bona-fide and unapologetic state of atheism. Chris just scoffed when i mentioned my conversion. “You’ve been talking about it for years” was all she said on the matter. That may be so, but i haven’t put it down as the subject of a blog entry, so there.

My inspiration? I was listening just now to Michael Enright’s The Sunday Edition on CBC radio. He did an interview with three earnest people who have “switched” religions. There was one fellow who switched from Muslim to Christian, a woman that switched from Christian to Muslim, and a man who went from Mormonism to Christianity. It was all done with the greatest of respect and everyone agreed that each religion is respectful of the other and that it’s all about “coming to god”. The history of their faiths, entwined as they are with politics, war, ethnic hatred, etc., were dismissed as less important than the individual spiritual journey that these faiths offer to humanity. As they talked i realised that i too have switched religions, or rather, have switched out of religion. This is not a shock to anyone who knows me of course, but it’s interesting to think about how long the process has been going on inside me.

All of Enright’s interviewees clamed to feel the spiritual pull of “god” throughout their lives. This struck me because one true thing i can say is that i have always had the notion that god does not exist, or at the very least a strong suspicion that this was the case. It is my “spiritual pull” - that the stories i was told as a child were entertaining and enlightening but were not true, like 1 + 1 = 2 is true. This was the obvious thing to me. I was baptised as a Catholic; recited the “Now I lay me down to sleep prayer” on a nightly basis until i was in grade school at least; knew the Lord’s Prayer by heart at a very early age; etc. We went to church on Sunday always, i attended Catholic school, i lived in a Christian environment. Everyone i knew was Christian.

But as i say, there was something inside me that said “stories, only stories”. These were things i shouldn’t - couldn’t - “believe in”; rather they were things i could “learn from”. And learn i did i suppose. The moral/ethical soul that i have become was incubated inside a religious - a Christian - environment. Fair enough, and of course the religious context of my upbringing was only a small part of a larger moral/ethical eco-system that i was developing inside, and i would argue a very small part of the whole. What was more important to me, Sunday church and Catholic schooling? or that my father didn’t beat me, my mother loved me, i was raised in a middle-class white family in Saskatchewan in the 70’s and 80’s, and that i was given a long intellectual tether to swing from? I don’t think i need to tell you what i think the answer is, but just to make it obvious, in my opinion it’s the latter.

What was true though is that something inside me prevented any sort of fundamental acceptance of the “mystery” of christianity. The whole “christ has died, christ has risen, christ will come again” thing. To me it was “hey, fun is fun, but c’mon, really, you believe that?” Well, not me. If it’s “come all ye faithful”, i’ll have to sit tight.

Since my childhood my feelings on religion have really just deepened. I don’t discount the spiritual side totally, i respect knowledge and insight in all of its forms: artistic, scientific, spiritual, it’s all golden. But the principle thought that an animate, universal consciousness is responsible for life, the universe, and everything inside and out of it is an idea i am deeply suspicious of. That such an entity regularly intervenes in human affairs, telling this tribe or that one that they are “chosen”; answering prayers like telephone calls; performing miracles and allowing the holocaust - no way. That’s us folks, just us.

So, i’m coming out of the religious closet and making a semi-public statement about where i’m at with regard to the “God question”. I’m answering “no god”.

God is Real; Love the Lord

Young fans of the epic fantasy The Golden Compass woke up today wondering if their parents will allow them to continue reading the book or attend the soon-to-be released theatrical version, now that shocking details of the hidden message contained in its pages has been revealed. The message was discovered accidentally by researchers at MIT, who ran the text of the novel through a series of computer search algorithms as part of an unrelated study. “Initially we didn’t see any patterns come up, it was just noise,” said PhD candidate John Nietzsche, ” but when we reversed the text and reran the tests, we made the discovery”.

The researchers discovered the hidden message God is real; Love the Lord repeated throughout the book. “It appears that Pullman has employed ‘backwards texting’ techniques to embed the hidden message in the book” said Nietzsche. “It’s the first real example of its use that we’ve seen in the wild”.

The findings have dismayed atheists across the globe, as Pullman has long been considered a champion of their philosophy. “We’re all in shock,” said an anonymous Bright, an organization of like-minded atheists. “It’s a real let down.”

What the impacts of backwards texting are is a matter of conjecture. Noted English child psychologist Jane Sommerville has said the technique is harmful to children, as it exposes them to ideas and patterns that they might not come into contact with otherwise. “They are totally defenceless,” said Ms. Sommerville, “and their parents cannot do anything to filter the harmful content because it’s hidden inside another context.”

Atheists have organized book burnings at locations in Europe and North America, and talk of a boycott of the movie are bubbling up on message boards and chat rooms all over the internet. Pullman has not yet commented on the revelations, but the discovery of the hidden message is sure to dog him as he works to promote the book, the movie, and the entire His Dark Materials trilogy. We’ll keep you posted with further developments.

the police state
there’s nothing wrong
then they pull out their sticks
and they beat us along

the police state
force was justified
a threat was perceived
and we never lie

the police state
we serve and protect
while they circle the wagons
and lip-service respect

the police state
we can police ourselves
put one of us down
and you can all go to hell

the police state
everything is fine
and it’s not really illegal
if we do the crime

A man was tasered today at Joe’s Deli and Grocery on Somestreet, Somewhere. The man was speaking a foreign language at the time of the incident. “I believe he was speaking Italian,” said one eye-witness, “at least I heard him say ‘pancetta’.” The man allegedly became agitated while looking in the dairy case. Video camera footage shows the distraught, fifty-something man opening and closing the door and repeating what sounded like “uova uova” in a loud tone. Police entered the scene, took a left past the radicchio, and promptly administered the taser to the individual.

One officer was reported to have said “they’re eggs asshole. Get it?”

Police called in the riot squad when a group of women, some holding loaves of bread in what a police spokeperson called a  “menacing manner”, gathered on the sidewalk outside the popular deli. The as yet unidentified suspect was removed from the store in a stretcher. In a bizarre turn, he was apparently allowed to retain control of a cylindrical object, possibly a salami. We’ll have more details as they emerge.

In keeping with their “Give a Criminal a Break” approach to crime, Stephen Harper’s Conservative government gave the criminal class of Canada an early Christmas present today in the announcment that the GST will be reduced for the second time during their mandate. By lowering the GST by another percentage point the Harper government has cut the marginal tax rate of those earning illegal incomes by a whopping 17%, and 29% overall since taking power.

Career criminals across the country are shouting out a collective “Booyah!” and rushing out to lay their illegally-earned cash down on new purchases of grow lamps, generators, high-speed automobiles, surveillance equipment, alarm systems and legal ammunition, thus increasing their ability to earn more illegal income and escape prosecution should the need arise. Maybe this is the Conservative productivity strategy in action: put the money in the hands of criminals to reinvest in productive capital. “We need to reward entrepreneurship,” said a glowing Jim Flaherty, “and the cuts we’ve introduced will supercharge the right sectors of our economy.”

This is one cagey government. They have courted soft Quebec-separatists by supporting the “Quebec is a Nation” proclamation; they have targeted immigrant populations with immigration reform; and now they are cozying up to a so-far untapped constituency in Canada, the professional criminal. Where this creative bunch look next for inspiration and votes is anyone’s guess. I wonder what Stockwell Day will be wearing for halloween?

My last day behind wires. They come off tomorrow at 9:45 am.

If it’s my last day behind wires, it’s my first behind the cage, loosely speaking. I picked this mask up yesterday. Funnily enough there is some conjecture that the jaw might have brok even if i had been wearing this thing on the day of the incident. It would have been a close call, and depending on the physics, the damage may have happened anyway. It all depends on whether any part of the puck would have struck the mask first. Even a glancing blow would have absorbed some of the force of the puck and no broken jaw would have happened. I think that is the likely outcome, had i been wearing the full cage, but putting on the mask there is still room for a puck to strike the jaw cleanly. It would be a real fluke, as opposed to just a fluke.

Regardless, here i am on the last day, hoping that the jaw has healed. I keep hearing whispers in the back of the mind that perhaps it hasn’t healed, maybe i’ll need to repeat this. That would be a disappointing outcome to say the least.

My last meal tonight? Potato-Leek soup. My first meal tomorrow? Maybe risotto? Maybe more soup? I’ll be anxious to lick my lips no matter what we eat, and anxious too to have my jaw back. Even if it’s only 50% of its function.

Ok, that’s me trying to smile on the morning of day 30. I’ve passed the four-week mark on Saturday and am looking forward to less than 10 days more with these god-foresaken wires hampering my lifestyle. I have a date to get them off: Oct. 31, Halloween. That’s slightly less that 6 weeks but the doc gave me the option of scheduling anytime on or after the 31st, so i naturally picked the first one.

I’ll be getting the gas when he removes the wires. They gave me an option but advised me to go with the gas. “Otherwise,” said the doc, “you’ll be extremely uncomfortable. It’s a bit of a rough procedure.” It’s $300 extra - no big deal when you consider the options. To say that I’m looking forward to getting these things off is an understatement. I am sick to death of my liquid diet; of the cleaning ritual (irrigation, brushing, rinse with mouthwash); of not being able to lick my lips, of not feeling my lower lip; of talking through clenched teeth; of fighting every time i have to yawn or sneeze; etc.

Not that i’m going to be tying into a steak dinner on the first night. The doc has told me my jaw will be at “50 %” when the wires come off, which means soft foods for two weeks or so. It’ll take up to six weeks after the wires come off before i’m back to 100% of original function, according to the surgeon. That puts me somewhere close to Christmas - i’m dreaming of turkey with everything….However, just being able to see my tongue again will be a remarkable thing, to be able to brush the inside of my teeth, to put a spoon into my mouth, to speak using more than my lips and forced air.

The countdown has begun. 9 days to go.

Finally you will never have a problem with your size any more.
We have something special that will make all your ’se^xual wishes real.
Leave behind what you’ve seen earlier. The new era for you has come!
Women will love you!
Friends will be jealous!
And you will Finally your new life! Like a real man with a real penis!
Discover MegaDik and be happy with your new size!

who will take this burden off of me
who will take this burden off of me?
i’ve carried it down so many roads
and now it’s time to pay the toll
who will take this burden off of me

who will wipe these tears from my eyes
who will wipe these tears from my eyes?
i’ve seen much i didn’t wish to see
on the crooked trail of destiny
who will wipe these tears from eyes

who will help me shut the door
who will help me shut the door?
the evening light is fading fast
shadows creep across my past
who will help me shut the door

who will put their shovel in the ground
who will put their shovel in the ground?
who will dig it down six feet deep
where children stare and widows weep
who will put their shovel in the ground

we were idling at the corner of Main and 2nd
waiting for the light to change
on a cool and gloomy october afternoon
a pale autumnal light was ceding its ghost
to a wet vancouver evening
without protest
it was a languid moment that we couldn’t arrest
as a matter of fact we were unaware the moment was guilty at all

as the traffic signal changed from green to yellow
an apparition appeared in the intersection:

a girl on a skateboard sailed through the light
turning north off of 2nd
seeking the main line
leaning into the turn
tall and easy on her board
faux fur collar billowing
flushed cheekbones
a look of triumph and ease on her face
that suggested royalty

what light remained was drawn to the girl on a skateboard
carving the corner on a magnet’s course
riding the moment with a casual and practiced perfection
reminding us all
idling in our cars
what it is to steal the light
and secure its heat against the passing of the day

Well well well, week 3 dawns. Day 16 begins. Only…how many to go?…28 days? Ugh…

I had a checkup with surgeon yesterday. I spent an hour driving out and an hour driving back, 15 minutes in the waiting room, and about 5 seconds in the chair. Doc took a quick look in, said “you see this is how easy it is when you take such good care of your oral hygiene. Come back in two weeks.” That was it.

So i’m taking care of the area. I guess that’s a good thing, and it makes me wonder what the surgeon sees with other patients. I remember what the O.R. nurse said just before she wheeled me into the Operating Room: “you are one of the good guys aren’t you?” I asked her what she meant, and she answered, “you didn’t break your jaw in a fist-fight like most of the ones the doctor sees.” Another interesting tidbit on the backdoor to the surgeon’s office reads something like “parole officers please phone the desk prior to entering”. SO he gets that kind of business, and maybe some of that kind of business doesn’t take very good care of the area.

How is it at 3 weeks? Hungry. I’m always hungry. I’m already sick of this liquid diet, and so much time to go. I grilled a steak for Chris last night for supper - a beautiful, inch-thick New York rubbed and then grilled rare and juicy. It was beautiful. I had some cauliflower cream soup with melted cheese - by my standards a decent “meal”, but hardly the repast an omniverous sob like myself can really appreciate. I chased it with red wine, and later, the ubiquitous evening milk shake: vanilla ice cream, milk, chocolate sauce, frozen mango fruit, some maple syrup. Such is the stuff my meals are made of.

I have very little pain now - no headaches, jaw or mouth pain to speak of. I still lack full-feeling in my lower lip and chin, but it’s not painful. Frustrating somewhat when i get an itch and cannot scratch it.

Thanksgiving dinner tomorrow. We’re having a family dinner at my sister’s place. I’m bringing a bottle of Wild Turkey for the occasion - that’s about as close as i’m going to get to a turkey dinner this time around.

Happy Thanksgiving to all of you. Gobble gobble gobble….

Skipped a day, but no big deal. I think i’ll update once a week from here on out as there won’t be as much happening. At this point it looks like more of the same for the duration of the sentence.

Yesterday was the first day of week 2, which is kind of exciting. I realise now - no, i know now - that i will survive this ordeal. From here on out it’s just a matter of putting one day at the end of another until it’s over.

I had a guiness milkshake yesterday. A can of Guiness, a few scoops of vanilla ice cream, a bit of maple syrup, and stirred it in a blender. Verdict? Next time i’ll just chase the guiness with the ice cream. However, not too bad. I’m trying to add calories to everything. Coffee comes with a can of Boost. My nightcap last night was a can of Boost and a cup of chocolate milk. Etc…

I’ve started working again…i was up half the night worrying about a project. Back to normal? Ah well….

Well, day 7 is here and a small milestone is reached, one week since the operation. I had the best sleep so far - no wakeups that i recall (apparently at some point in the night i slapped chris’s ass, but that’s another, ahem, story), waking up at 7:30 or so much better for the sleep. Another small milestone was reached yesterday, or a mill-stone was dropped, or something, but i managed to take my first “sabbatical” since the operation yesterday. Surprisingly, the movement was “normal”. I’ll leave that one in the bowl where it belongs, however, it was a relief in more ways than one.

I am experiencing a loss of feeling in my bottom lip and chin that’s a bit disconcerting to say the least. It’s exactly like everything is under freezing, like when you get a filling at the dentist, except there’s no freezing. It’s weird.

I had a checkup with the doc this morning. He took a look and commented “I can see you’ve been brushing - that’s good”. He told me a few more spots to run the brush over, where the stitches went into the gums to promote healing. We asked him some questions that we were curious about, like “is six weeks for sure or does it depend, say, on the x-ray at 5 weeks?”. He assured us that six weeks is god. I then asked if he’s confident i will heal in six weeks. “I’m 100% sure that you will heal in 6 weeks. It’s bone physiology - in six weeks you’re jaw will be at 50%, good enough to remove the wires. For two weeks after that you’ll need to stick to a soft diet (mashed potatoes for example); the next two weekds maybe salad at the most, then building to a normal diet. “In three months your jaw will be at 98% of it’s original function.

Well, that sounds good. Anybody got a time-machine? Mr. Fusion anyone?

Well, it isn’t getting any easier. I was optomistic yesterday morning, lips felt better etc. Did some work in the morning and things were looking up. However, around 11:30 in the am i started feeling tired, i mean really exhausted. I made my way to the bedroom, layed down, and basically didn’t make it up until Chris arrived home at 5.

I had a lot of pain as well - mouth, jaw, and head ache. I hit the tylenol-3s again.

I was hungry, but there was another issue. I tried the Water-Pic again and found it to be fairly useful. Little rasberry seeds were flying out of my teeth - i thought that was a good thing. However, it seems to have affected the sensitivity on some of my teeth, in fact the eye tooth on my bottom left side, near the point of impact with the puck and where the jaw was broken vertically. This pain/sensitivity made the smoothie thing, which has been one of the main sources of nutrition for me, more difficult.

Also sucking was hard. I tried tomato soup for supper, and just could not get enough in me. I was hungry, but could not get enough suction to get the stuff down. It was depressing, and my spirits sagged.

The night wasn’t too bad. I was up at around 4:40 am with pain - later than previously. I took two tylenols, and then managed to get back to sleep. I slept until 7:45 or so.

Right now my chin is aching. I don’t think i’ve written about my chin yet. Underneath my beard there are bruises on both sides. I’ve never had bruising on my chin before. It is very tender, and feels swollen and somewhat numb when i touch it, especially on the left side, at the corner of my mouth, where, as i said, there is a vertical fracture. I’m also getting headache pain on the right side of my head, which seems to correspond with the diagonal break running from somewhere at the back of jaw down to the corner of my mouth on the right side. I remember the emergency room physician telling me that bones often break like rings, in two places.

I am definitely going to lose weight in this process. It’s a shame i didn’t get myself weighed before i started. I have a rough idea that i was somewhere in the 150-160lb range (for some reason i still equate weight to pounds), maybe splitting the difference, but i’m not sure. I’ve never been one for the scale, in fact, we don’t have a scale (around here we measure it by the ounce, not the kilo)! I woke up hungry, and am trying to wrestle a smoothie down despite the troubling loss of suction and the painful stab when the liquid crosses the sensitive area. I’ve have my first anti-biotic and will soon have my second. A brush of the teeth and a nap are the next orders of business.

Adios…

I’m getting my lips back. That’s a good sign. The upper lip feels positively normal, the bottom lip less so, but there is improvement. I can move both much more easily than a day ago even; they are more maleable, flexible. As i suspected, my ability to suction up a straw has improved with this increased movement. Eating should be easier today.

I didn’t use pain killers at all yesterday, however, prior to going to bed i had some pain in my jaw and head so i popped a couple of t-3s. And like clockwork, i woke myself up around 3am with a dream that referred to my jaw, and a stabbing pain when i clamped down on a jaw that cannot move. Up i sat, donned my bathrobe, and down i went to the kitchen to prepare a t-3 cocktail. Sleep after this was hard to come by, again, following the pattern of the past several days.

However, either i did in fact get more sleep than previously, or my needs have decreased, but when Chris’ alarm went off at 6 am i was able to get up with her. For the past several days i’ve barely been aware of her getting out of bed - that’s when i’ve been able to catch a couple of hours. So that’s another sign - healing is happening!

Supper last night consisted of mashed yam and potatoes with carmelized onions and roasted garlic, thinned heavily with the water i cooked the yam and potatoes in. I added a bit of salt for flavor. A strange meal for sure but what are you gonna do? I think i also added a tablespoon of whey protein. I’ve been adding a tablespoon of whey protein to pretty much everything. Chris tells me it’s a good source, so i believe her.

The one thing i’m getting curious about is my bowel movements, or rather, the lack of them. I have yet to take my first crap post-operation. I hate to think of what’s going on in my crapular system at the moment. I’m on some top-secret antibiotic that came with a hazard sheet as long as my arm. One of the side-effects they warn about is “diarrhoea” (not an easy word to spell at 7:45 am in the morn). I’ve been taking t-3s at a regular clip. One of the side effects of that is constipation. My diet is liquid. I have no idea what the side effects of that is. Mixed together in the bowls of my bowels, count the hours and measure the vowels, and you’re left wondering what’s gonna happen the first time. Ah, anticipation, it’s what keeps us going isn’t it?

Day 4 - self taken.

Well, day 4 begins and i am writing in the present tense, as i have “caught up”, so to speak, with current events. I awoke at 8:00 am and was disappointed with the state of my lips, which were still swollen despite the brushing that i put in the previous day. Ah well.

I started out with a coffee and the newspaper, thinking that something half-normal would be a good way to start the day. The coffee was a bit disappointing, but the thought was there. After coffee i had my morning elixir of antibiotics and chocolate milk, brushed my teeth, and made a breakfast shake.

Breakfast Shake

1 cup yogurt
1/2 cup milk
1 1/2 cup of frozen peaches
Frozen bananas - maybe 3/4 cup
1 tbs Protein powder (whey)
1 cup or so of peach/pear juice (i just added it until i got the right consistency)

It was/is quite good. I’m working on my second great tumbler of it right now. One thing i’m concerned about is nutrition. I know i will lose some weight through this experience, i’m just worried about how much. I don’t have a lot extra to start with. I’m not skinny by any stretch, but you wouldn’t exactly say i’m fat either. We’ll see how it goes. I keep thinking about the joy of chewing. My first meal will be a miracle….

Update on the Braun Water-Pic: i fired it up around noon and it was positively frightening. I wasn’t letting that thing within ten feet of these gums. It’s too much right now. I think i need to heal for a week or more before i give it a go. Right now i’m thinking it might do some damage. It really fires out of there….

Day 3 begins with the idea of taking a photo from the same position each day as i go through this miserable experience. Chris took this photo of me.

Day three was the first day that i would be “on my own”. Chris went to work and i spent most of the day in bed, reading Sherlock Holmes mysteries and sleeping a lot. Pain-wise i was feeling pretty good and laid off of the Tylenol-3s. I took my antibiotics on schedule, but the biggest deal was the teeth-cleaning. Chris spoke with the surgeon’s staff and they insisted that I needed to brush my teeth immediately, because the swelling in my lips would get worse, not better, until i got in there with a brush. They said it will bleed, it might hurt, but that it was imperative for my recovery that i did so immediately. I told Chris that i would do so, and, after working up a little courage, made my way to the bathroom.

It was with much trepidation that i moved the electric brush into my mouth, at the low speed. It wasn’t as bad as i expected, although my bottom front teeth proved almost unreachable, as they are tucked in behind the overbite and there is a lot soreness down along the gumline. It was weird when i ran the brush over the wires, kind of a zinger along the lines of fingernails down a chalk-board, but the instruction said i had to brush the wires as well, so i did my best. The sides - molars - weren’t so bad, either, to my surprise. I rinsed and indeed there was some blood and gunk that came out, but i was glad i was able to get in there as well as i did.

Rinsed with salt-water when i was finished, made some soup for lunch, which went down, albeit again with difficulty.

Chris brought a Braun Water-Pic home to aid with the teeth cleaning. We don’t know if it’ll help but it sounds like a good idea. Both my dentist and the surgeon’s help-desk thought so as well. I plugged the thing in to charge overnight. Day 4 will see me giving that a go.

I brushed a few more times during the day. Chris also brought home new heads for the electric tooth brush - another Braun product - these one of the “ultra-soft” variety. I did begin to feel a bit more mobility around the lips as i worked the brushing, not necessarily less swelling, but more ability to move them, which i took to be a good sign.

Supper was a tame affair - more soup. I added some protein to it, and thinned with chicken stock to make it easier to pull through a straw. I made a late-night milkshake, adding banana and protein powder, some cocoa and vanilla, and we watched a Last Detective mystery that i recorded the night previously. DC Dangerous to the rescue. Another sleepless night followed, I believe i was up for the duration from 3:00 on through 6 or so, when Chris gets up to shower for work. I slept from that point until 8:00.

Day 2 was a gut-check day, a day to dig my heels in and take care of business as best i could. One thing i knocked down early was the antibiotic issue. There were no problems with that at all as i was able to perfect the maple-syrup/chocolate milk concoction to make it all go down without a hitch. So that was one issue put to rest. Chris made me a smoothy for breakfast which tasted pretty good. Still took me a long while to sip it as i was still having difficulty getting suction. I felt that it was a matter of the swelling in my lips that was making this more of a problem than is necessary. It should get easier to swallow as time goes on, otherwise, well, it’s going to be difficult the entire way through.

I sat around and watched football for a good part of the day. I haven’t done this for years, but enjoyed watching the hype and spectacle of NFL football in the glory of high-definition. Chris went out at some point to do some shopping, and while she was gone Joanne phoned, asking if she could come over. I told her to do so, and took the opportunity to get dressed. She brought over some Sherlock Holmes books that i requested, some protein supplements, and a big, beautiful bouquet of flowers. She helped ensconce them in a vase, and they we played some crib. Chris arrived back an hour or so later, and I took my leave.

Watched the end of the Seahawks game (a win for the Hawks). Had more soup for dinner, this time a carrot-soup that Suzanne, who lives in the coop and heard about my injury, made for me. We thinned it with some stock and i sipped it through a straw.

At some point we looked at the post-op instructions, and they said that i needed to start brushing my teeth on day 2. I told Chris that i thought i should wait until the swelling in my lips went down some more before i started brushing. She agreed. I did the salt-rinse, and we passed another sleepless night. I kept getting up for the ice bag and laying it on different parts of my face. It seemed to provide some relief to me.

One can be critical of the medical system in this country, and one can also be grateful for the medical system in this country, and i guess our experience had a little bit of both in it. We arrived as the doctor asked, at 7:30 am (actually we were early) at the Abbotsford Hospital. We talked with the person in admitting, and told her we were to have day surgery at 8:30am. She told us to go up to day surgery on the second floor, so we did. The day surgery door was locked and the hallway was dark, but we were a little early, so we thought we’d wait and see what happens at 7:30.

At 7:30 the door was still closed, so Chris wandered down to the nurses station to see what was going on. The person there told Chris to wait for someone to show up. So we stood around the door for about 10 minutes. Chris was getting anxious, and moved to go speak with them again. I went with her, thinking that the visual evidence of injury might inspire them. It did. The first nurse said that someone would be along, just have to wait. Another nurse said, “it’s Saturday. Surgical daycare is closed on Saturday. Who are you supposed to see.” We explained the situation, that we were to have my jaw wired at 8:30 this morning. They said they had no record of me and seemed confused as to how to proceed. One of the  nurses took charge, and said she would look into it. “Go sit down and come back in 10 minutes if you haven’t heard from me.”

We sat for the 10 minutes, and then approached her again. “Ok, I don’t know what’s going on, but you have to be admitted before we can do anything. Let’s go downstairs and get you admitted.” So she walked us downstairs to admitting, where we had started in the first place. The nurse ushered us into a small office, where an admittance clerk was sitting with another patient, and spoke with someone in the back. “Do you know about this patient. He’s supposed to be in surgery at 8:30 and we don’t know anything about him.” They were aware of me, and determined that i would be admitted and then sent back upstairs to the ward.

We got ourselves admitted, with the requisite wrist tag, and then went back upstairs. Things were happening. I was ushered to a bed, put into a gown, and then a young and chatty nurse came in and did an interview. After 10 minutes or so someone came down and indicated it was time for me to go to the O.R. “But he hasn’t signed the consent yet,” the young nurse said, “do we need to get that done before he goes down?”

The attendant said “we’ll let them worry about that in the O.R., I was told to get him down there ASAP.” So that was the end of me for the ward, and off i went to the O.R. Went through the door into a brightly lit, antiseptic looking hallway, where a gowned and hatted nurse was waiting for me. “I see you don’t have the consent signed yet,” she clucked, looking at the paperwork. Let me check with the doctor to see what I need to get you to consent to. She came back. “He says you are consenting to ‘Get jaw wired.’ Sign here and here and we can get started.” I signed, and she wheeled me in to the O.R., where the doc was waiting.

They splayed me out, stuck an iv in me, and the doctor asked - ominously - if i had any final questions. I was introduced to the anaesthesiologist, who said “hi, i’m doctor so-and-so, were going to get started now.” He checked each nostril to see if i could breathe properly through each - i wondered why, and then said, “this might sting a bit at first.” It stung at first, and then the room started to get fuzzy….

They wheeled me out of the O.R. At first it was my lips that i noticed. I couldn’t move them. I was breathing through my nose - i realised why the anaesthesiologist had checked my nostril breathing. I lay back and stared at the ceiling. My six week sentence was underway.

Chris came in a bit later and sat with me. The recovery nurse was hovering around, giving us advice and wisdom. I wrote the odd note, and after another 30 minutes or so it was time to leave. I put my clothes on, they brought in a wheelchair, I climbed in, and we Chris wheeled me out. My last note was to the nurse: “Thank you.”

We drove home, i lay on the couch and put on a baseball game (Bluejays and Yankees - turned out to be an incredibly entertaining affair which the Yankees won in 10 innings 11-10 or something like that). Some family dropped by as the day wore on. At some point chris gave me my antibiotic, the one the hospital sent home with me on the first night. She had opened the pill and mixed the contents with some water. I tried sipping it and the taste was absolutely foul - extremely bitter. I muscled it down somehow but the taste lingered for hours. The meaning of what i was dealing with started coming clear and the antibiotic was symbolic of it. Everything is different when you can’t open your mouth. Even sipping through a straw was difficult - i couldn’t get suction. The pain was ever-present, a pulsing, grinding pain. I felt claustrophobic and panicky.

At some point i refused the antibiotic. “I’m not taking those fucking things” was my general comment. I was beginning to be a bad patient. Chris was doing her best to help me but it was a daunting task. At some point she cried and said “you’re just going to have to suck it up. You need to take this medicine, you have to find a way.” I understood what she was saying, but at the moment it was almost too much for me to handle. It was a feeling of being caged, trapped. I could feel my tongue behind my teeth, knowing it would be there for the next six weeks. I mumbled as best i could “i’ve been sentenced here but i didn’t do anything.” Chris agreed.

I managed 3 out of 4 servings of that antibiotic. I landed on a mixture of maple syrup and chocolate milk to deliver the medicine. The codeine was easier to get down - not as bitter. I had soup for dinner, muscling down a serving of potato leek soup heavily spun in a blender. I rinsed my mouth with salt-water prior to going to bed.

Sleep was interesting and limited. When i did sleep i snored, and Chris was unable to sleep. She eventually moved upstairs. I got a few hours of sleep, interspersed with crushing of pain killers, mixing them with liquid and sipping them as best i could. I dreamed at one point that i was at a family gathering and somebody was bragging about joining “the oil club”. They got their cooking oil in bulk, saving “a lot of money”. “It’s so easy” i was told, “everyone should join.” It was a bit of a nightmare, so i woke up. I should have stayed with the dream….

I spent a reasonable night with the benefit of some pain-killers (percocept). I was told to stay off fluids and food after midnight, as there was a good chance i would be having surgery the next day.

We called the doctor as soon as we woke up in the morning, and got his switchboard. They told us to call the office when it opened at 8:30am. We did so and were instructed to just show up whenever we could, but before noon. We took down directions, were told that we needed to pick up my x-rays from the hospital, and hit the road.

The drive to Abbotsford with the stop at the hospital took about 1 1/2 hours. The doctor is one of those “Oral and Maxillofacial” specialists that does reconstructive surgery, extractions, and in my case, jaw wiring. Once in the office we were speaking with the doctor within a half-hour. Turns out he himself is a hockey player, which is funny. He told us how he brings a full stitch-kit to his games and has used it on team-mates numerous times. “They never want to go to emergency,” he laughed, “they all want to be warriors and get stitched up on the spot and finish the game. Everyone is macho.” Then he said that i was lucky that they didn’t do the surgery at the hospital last night. “The surgeons they bring in aren’t certified. You don’t know how many times i see their patients later to fix the damage that they did because they aren’t qualified. I tell them this but the hospital says that they are the only ones who will perform the surgery for them.”

Once he had viewed the x-rays, he gave us the diagnosis. “Your jaw is broken in two places, and depending on what we find when we get in you could be looking at a few different scenarios. The best for you will be if we can get away with wires only, but there is a possibility that we may need to use plates as well. These can cause some nerve damage depending on how things play out.” We discussed timing, and the doc got positively chatty about the inefficiencies of the medical system on this point. “It depends. They try to fit me in around things that have priority like cesearian sections. I’ll try to get you in today, but if not, for sure by tomorrow. Sit tight and I’ll check on the bed situation.”

In the end we waited in his office until noon, at which point he suggested we just go home and plan on coming for surgery tomorrow. He said he would call us to confirm. So off we went for Vancouver, one more day of waiting. I must say i was almost relieved - the thought of sugery and jaw-wiring did not sound like fun to me.

We stopped for groceries at the Save-On at Metrotown. I walked into the FutureShop there and picked up a couple of movies - The Godfather I & II. I figured i might as well hunker down, and why not with these movies eh?

I screened number I when we arrived home. I hadn’t really taken notice before, but the movie opens with the undertaker making a plea for “justice” from the Don, because his daughter was beaten by a group of no-good American boys. “Her jaw was a-shattered, held together with wire,” he tells the Godfather. Ominous beginnings. And later, when Michael (Al Pacino) prevents the assassination of his father in the hospital scene, he confronts the corrupt police sergeant who was part of the assassination attempt. Michael “provokes” the sergeant, and is punched in the face. The end result: a broken jaw. Egads. At some point Chris figured out that my jaw looked just like Marlon Brando’s in the movie, although his were stuffed with golf-balls or something.

The day passed. I had a martini at about 6, which tasted like crap to me, but which i muscled down, thinking it might be the last for awhile. We went to bed without hearing from the doc, but then he called as we were laying in bed, restless and anxious. We were to have the operation first thing in the morning. We both got out of bed, feeling wide awake but relaxed. It was good news.