Basically, I’m falling apart.

I don’t get to find out what the problem is for 4 more weeks. That’s when they’re gonna stick a camera up my ass. Apparently the treatment for most gastro-intestinal problems is utter humiliation. Not only do they shove a Polaroid up there, but I hear they snip off a souvenir.

Nice.

It gets better though. In the week I’ve been home, my “problem” (they think either number one or number two) has graduated into full-on Mr. Captain Tripps (way to go copygodd- pick on a sick man.) Either a virus has caused this (my hope- then i have neither) or I have some super-flu on top of it. My temperature keeps popping up near 103, then down sub-98. I get so cold I layer all the blankets we have on me, and then i get so hot I sweat so much the couch looks like a kiddie pool.

On the upside, daytime television has made me feel a little better that I work 9 to 5.

You know some people with problem one actually get part of their colon removed? I guess that would leave them with a semicolon! HA! A little GI humor for you kids. I’ll be here all week!

Anyway, I know you’re jealous, what with my steady diet of oranges and oatmeal, the hot sweats and the chills. No worries. I don’t think I can give this to anyone unless we like rub colons or something. My gawd I am gross. Blame it on the vicodin.

For all of you anxiously awaiting every post here at EADC, you’ll have to wait for the next time I’m this conscious. From all of us here at EADC, take care of your pooper, America.

So the Doctor thinks I’ll be OK, but I have to stay off my colon for a few days.

After feeling all day that I was growing an evil twin in my small intestine, I spent the better part of last night in the ER.

It started out innocent enough- a little indigestion after dinner. But then the pressure started building in my gut. You know, that slow gassy buildup where your stomach keeps threatening you with gurgles similar to the last things the citizens of Pompeii ever heard? Once the pressure meets critical mass, it can only end in you doing that crampy zombie-shuffle to the crapper where you promptly go into violent labor, finally creating a Jackson Pollock piece in your toilet?

I just wish it went down like that.

Instead, we took the family to a field trip to urgent care. They sent us to the ER because they “didn’t have the right equipment” to diagnose me. That’s medical-speak for “we close in a half an hour- go somewhere else.” See, Jolene? Sweeping up at Haircutts Express DOES have some similarities to working in medicine.

Off to the hospital.

They gave me a little open-backed number when I got there, but I’ve gotta say whoever picked it out has horrible taste b/c it did nothing for my figure. (/Stewie voice)

You know how people catch even worse diseases IN hospitals? Like they go in with a sore throat and get pneumonia and die? Well, if there wasn’t already something horribly wrong with me already then it was watching the series finale of Smallville while waiting to be treated that severely irritated my bowels.

The upside to all the waiting? I had my first taste of Morphine. The downside? They wouldn’t let me take any home.

Apparently I either have something that will go away in a few days with antibiotics or get much, much worse. It was like having my mechanic say “oh yeah i think i fixed it, but drive it around a few days. If it explodes, bring it back.”

But then, even knowing that my innards were irritated, they still attempted to sodomize me on the way out. “Oh yeah, your insurance only pays 30% at Emergency Rooms.” Eh? Come again?

“Had you gone to urgent care your co-pay would be 40 bucks, but since you came here your bill is… (adding machine tics away) $248.00.” Thanks Urgent Care- you guys are super.

It gets better- the grand total including CAT scan, meds, and doctor’s bill will top off at nearly $1,500.00. Yes, we cried. It may double if the anti-biotics don’t work and my gut explodes.

But that’s not all! If it turns out that I have the Big Bad, I may never get to eat spicy foods again and have to cut back on meat.

Meat.

Spicy.

Kill me.

So, enough about me, how was your day?

“It’s either She goes or our family falls apart Ed. You have to end it.”

“How did you even know Helen and I were spending so much time together?”

“How could I not? You talk about her all the time, and anytime someone saw you they saw her too.”

“Man, I had no idea.”

“It’s really sad she could even drive a wedge between us. Besides, who even names their DVR, anyway?”

A few weeks ago it became obvious that with as many projects as we’re involved in and as much social stuff we do, if anything was going to get done around Casa de Adkins then cable would have to go.

Believe me, we labored over the idea for quite a while. If it were a movie they’d show a montage of us in all these scenes, each time in different clothes and looking more and more disheveled, desperately trying to re-budget our time to fit TV in. The music would be really intense too- just to show how hard of a decision it was.

It the last one I’d be wearing a wrinkled dress shirt- no tie- with the sleeves rolled up and my hair would be all greasy and messy and I’d be gripping a wrinkled piece of paper, shaking it into the air in defeat. Then the camera would start spinning on my face and fade to the scene earlier today when the cable guy came to take the DVR box.

I was with her till the bitter end. I held her in my lap till the connection finally faded. She didn’t deserve to die alone.

At her last sputter of life, she managed to flash a bunch of scenes from 24, Scrubs, Huff, Rescue Me, House, Family Guy and the whole Adult Swim lineup- all the shows still worth watching.

Then it was over. The dude handed me a release form to sign and I handed her over. “So you really got rid of Cable so you could read more?”

“Yeah man. It’s kind of scary facing the future without it, though. I’m not sure what to do next…

…You think you could just hang out a bit- I don’t want to be alone.”

“Sure man.”

“I’ll get a couple beers and some books. Fiction or non?”

The following is an internal conversation that occurred while Walking into the elevator the other day:

(Step into elevator, push Lobby)

MIND: … I can’t believe how quick the final exam got here- I’m so not prepared at-

ABDOMEN: Yo man.

MIND: …all. Maybe if I rush I…

ABDOMEN: Dude.

MIND: …get home… read my notes- WHAT?

ABDOMEN: I’m noticing some discomfort.

MIND: Whatever- just take care of it, I’m freaking out.

ABDOMEN: Ok

(FLOOR 11)

EARS: Did you hear that?

MIND: Will you guys please shut up!

NOSE: I’m with ears on this one. Something’s up.

EARS: I told you.

EYES: Nope, all’s clear. Ear’s full of crap again.

EARS: Dude, whatever- who asked you?

NOSE: Ohhhhh MAN!

MIND: Shut Up- wait… ears, nose, abdomen…

(FLOOR 10)

MIND: Holy Crap! Abdomen- what did you do?

ABDOMEN: I took care of it. Ask the butt.

BUTT: Wha? What? I just finished my nap- we going home already?

MIND: What have you done?!?! We’re in an ELEVATOR!

BUTT: wait a second- looks like I might have fired one off.

FACE: Que the redness and sweat.

EYES: I’m serious guys, I think you’re over reacting- there’s nothing there.

MIND: Abdomen!

ABDOMEN: Well, maybe you should listen to me once in a while.

MIND: Dude you can’t go around just-

NOSE: Oh my LORD! Hands- can you give me some help here? Close me up!

LEGS: We’ll get us out of this! Let’s go boys! Hup Hup hup…

MIND: WAIT!

LEFT HAND: No one leaves here until I push the button!

RIGHT HAND: Control freak.

NOSE: A little help!

LEFT HAND: I said hold on!

NOSE: Well, SOMEone didn’t look so shy when he was picking me earlier.

EYES: Oh MY- we’re watering now- What the hell did you eat?

FEET: Um, it kinda feels like we’re slowing down.

EARS: Wait, so like some one is getting on? Freaking classic.

MIND: EVERYONE CALM DOWN- THIS IS AN EMERGENCY! GAAHHHH! WEERREEE STOPING!!!!

NIPPLES: We’re all gonna die!!!!!

(FLOOR 9) (ding)

To be continued…

Not the way to start your day.

Picture yourself as me this morning- if, of course, you can handle that much cool for a second. Your eyes have barely fluttered, you hardly remember the couple times Heidi got up to hit snooze. On second thought, wait- get out of bed with my wife.

Now it’s me. I was just entering a state that could be considered early human. There’s a thud- and a whole mess of thudding in the bathroom. Badoombudumduumboom. Silence.

“Honey?”

Heidi drops stuff now and then, and I usually call out to make sure she’s ok. She usually responds with a touch of irritation that she’s perfectly fine.

“Hon?” Nothing.

I hurdle the expanse between the bedroom and bathroom in nothing flat. Sheets haven’t fallen before I’m at the door, opening it up. “Honey are you-”

She’s sprawled out on the floor, the water is still on. I. Totally. FREAK. OUT.

“HONEEEY!” I have never been so terrified in my entire life.

“WHAT!?!” She pops her head up, irritated. As if I just woke her unnecessarily.

I begin bawling for a second. I’m not ready to wake up this way. I compose myself. “Did you pass out or what?”

“No, I… I was showering, it got too hot in here, I started to leave, and then I was dreaming… um.” She reassesses the situation. On the floor. Soaking wet. Sprawled out. Good time for a nap?

I sit down, nerves shot. “Yeah honey you fainted or something.” We hug and I help her up into our room.

I am now absolutely no good for the day. I think it’s fair to say I can skip my morning poop. You know, usually it’s Heidi that finds me passed out. Go figure.

Authors Note: Heidi is fine. Apparently pregnant women faint sometimes, and she miraculously missed anything that would hurt her. I, being the anal one, concocted a safety plan for future fainting.