Surveys

I recently filled out a survey intended to identify my personality, spiritual gifts, and passion. My views of these surveys are similar to how I feel about colonoscopies. (Fortunately, I haven't had one.) If you need one, go through the ugly process and hope you get results you can live with. If not, deal with what you find.

It turns out I barely have a personality, minimal gifts, and no passion. If a guy got colonoscopy which turned up so little he'd be jumping up and down with joy, maybe not jumping for a while.

I may need a second opinion to help deal with what I found. Apparently, I am not up to the job of dealing with a problem like myself.





Note:
I was originally going to write about how personality test are like going to the dentist, but I didn't want to offend dentists. A large percentage of my readers are oral health professionals (at least 2) and it's dangerous to put off so many of your loyal followers. So I was left with the proctological exam. The problem was all of the other jokes and remarks that are so easy to make. Well, I didn't make any, but I sure expect you to thinks of some. Anyway, I don't like those personality surveys.

That's hardly cool

The X-ray technician poked her her head back in the room, “Did the doctor put screws in your shoulder?”  She had been checking the films she just took to make sure they were okay.  I was fairly sure he used screws, but since I was asleep at the time and no screws were sticking out, I said I wasn’t sure.

A few minutes later, “Oh, it’s okay.  The doctor said he used plastic screws in your shoulder.”  What!  Plastic screws!  Do they even show up on X-rays?

Well, in turns out the don’t.  The best I get is some drilled holes you can see in the clavicle.  (That’s where the plastic screws are holding the cadaver tendon in my bones.)

Good news, my shoulder’s doing as well as the doctor could hope.  Just too bad I don’t have a cool picture making me look like a cyborg.

Andy's Views

    Here is an account of a meal Andy had at Long John Silver.  

I'M BANDAGED UP PRETTY WELL. USING ALL CAPS BECAUSE I CAN'T USE MY RIGHT HAND.
IT'S A COOL HIGH TECH SLING ON MY ARM AND A ICE PACK ON MY SHOULDER. THE PACK IS HOKED UP TO AN ICE FILLED COOLER AND CIRCULATES ICE WATER.
SO FAR RECOVERY IS GOING WELL.
THE STRANGEST PART WAS THE NERVE BLOCK IN MY SHOULDER AND ARM. I'LL TRY TO GET SOME XRAYS OR SOMETHING.
IT TAKES WAY TO LONG TO TYPE WITH JUST LEFT HAND SO THAT'S ALL.
ALL INCOHERENCE SHOULD BE BLAMED ON THE MEDS.

If Lance and Bear can do it..

These are the shoulder injuries of Lance Armstrong and Bear Grylls.  (I couldn't find any of Matt Lauer's shoulder, he must have more controlling PR people.)  Mine is not quite as bad but I'll try to get some pre and post op pictures.  Surgery next week.

Last September during the 6 day power outage I was simply riding down a hill very fast when I was no longer on the bicycle and entering the woods.  The ER treated the shoulder separation but not the road rash or the tree-impact lacerations, not sure why.  We managed to clean those up later that night by the light of oil lamps using water warmed outside on the gas grill.  The poison ivy didn't start until several days later.

I'm going to have a few new parts surgically inserted where ligaments used to be.  If you have any spare ligaments or tendons, let me know.  Otherwise they are coming from dead people - you never know where those connective tissues have been.

Six weeks in a sling leaves me one day to recover before our new baby's due date.  Plenty of time.

How My Parents Met

My mother, a regular contributor to the Chicken Soup the the Soul series, recently submitted a story about how she met my dad. I’ve heard various iterations of the story for the last 40 years so I thought I’d give my version.

My dad (who depending on the version, either dated anyone or couldn’t get a date at all) called a local sorority house looking for a date. My mom answered the phone. “Is Julie there?” She wasn’t. “Is Pattie there?” She wasn’t. “Is Sandy there?” No. “How about Kim...Becky...Susan?” None of them were home. My mom apparently was the only non-social member of the girls social society.

So my dad asked, “Do you want to go on a date?” My mom said, “Sure, why not.” So they met, found out each others names, went on a date, sat on a big anchor, and got married.

My mom’s version is much more Chicken Soup.

A second helping of Liver Pudding

Just like the actual product, I had to go back to this story for more.

I asked the lady who stocks the meat department at the grocery store, "Do you sell much of that liver pudding?"  She says they sell a lot of it, but mostly to "the older people, they love it. They grew up with it, you know." 

I explained I had purchased some to find out what it is.  She says most of the folks put it on crackers or eat it in their scrambled eggs.  I was real close with the fried eggs on the first try an the toast on the second.

I guess I'm a natural when it comes to mysterious meat products.