Travis Besecker's Blog: Apocalypse Coming, page 28

awesome

Remember that surgery I was supposed to have tomorrow to have my meniscus repaired that was going to be outpatient with a few weeks of recovery?

That was going to be awesome.

Instead, I get another cadaver tendon screwed in where my ACL is supposed to be and rehab/physical therapy until Christmas! It’s like I won the lottery!

Except instead of millions of dollars cash I get to be violated with a weathered baseball bat to the crooning symphony of Toby Keith putting pseudo racist lyrics to the Star Wars theme in a room full of dirty diapers collected from a colony of incontinent vegans.

Metaphorically speaking of course.

Awesome.

you know that feeling of "Did I leave the garage door up?" or "Did I lock the door?"

…that you get when you leave the house and it needles at your subconscious until you convince yourself the house is engulfed in flames from the stove being on or over run by small woodland creatures using your open abode as a furry den of ill repute?

I just sat through an hour long MRI with the same feeling but in my case it was a hellbent assumption that I was wearing jewelry or forgot to remove a piercing or metal shaving I’d forgotten about or that my cock had been pierced in a bizarre hazing ritual that I’d blocked out years earlier all to the cinematic soundtrack of “THUMP THUMP THUMP THUMP THUMP TICK TICK TICK THUMP… THUMP…. THUMP…” for an hour.

I think I need a break. Or better meds.

under the knife

Actually I have no idea if they will use a knife or not.

Tomorrow I get an MRI to rule out a torn ACL in addition to the confirmed meniscus tear and displacement. If the ACL is torn it will need to be repaired or replaced. Last time I had a cadaver tendon and screws to fix my right ACL. The surgery was no big deal but the rehab and down time were a total bitch. I’m hoping for meniscus only.

Surgery is this Friday no matter what. The aftermath is what is up for discussion tomorrow I guess. I’ll know Thursday if I’m looking at weeks of recovery or months.

At any rate, Saturday and Sunday I’ll be at the soccer tournament no matter what. I may be in a golf cart and coaching both teams through a Vicodin haze, but I’ll still be there.

I’m stubborn.

Remember when I was physically able to ride my...

Remember when I was physically able to ride my motorcycle?

Yeah, those were good times.

How’s your Monday? Hopefully better than mine.

How’s your Monday? Hopefully better than mine.

Caffeine

I have a very special relationship with Caffeine. An addiction of epic proportion. It’s only caffeine. It’s not like heroine or crack or anything so I let it go. It’s not that big of a deal. It’s only caffeine.

Until I don’t have any for 3 or 4 hours.

Then it’s a really big fucking deal. The headache sets in, the shakes are quick to follow. Then I get belligerent and start looking for things to break. With my head swimming in blood and each pump of my heart trying to explode out of my ears I’ll finally break down and run for a Diet Mountain Dew or a Monster to calm the beast.

It’s not immediate though. The caffeine takes a while to run it’s course and coax the storm calm. By that time, I’m on can number three. Then I gotta piss.

Then the withdrawal headache and shakes turn to OH MY GOD I HAVE SO MUCH SHIT TO DO AND NOT ENOUGH TIME TO DO IT MUST GET EVERYTHING DONE AND WHERE IS ALL MY STUFF AT THAT I NEED AND I NEED ANOTHER SHOT OF CAFFEINE AND MORE COFFEE! COFFEE IS SO GOOD! CAPPUCCINO IS EVEN BETTER! WHY DOESN’T CAPPUCCINO HAVE AN ‘H’ IN IT? MAKES NO FUCKING SENSE! IT SHOULD BE CAP-UH-K-SEE-NO THE WAY IT’S SPELLED! THAT SOUNDS LIKE CASINO WITH A CAP! I FEEL LUCKY! OH MY GOD! LET’S GO TO THE CASINO! I NEED TO GAMBLE! I’LL DRIVE! FUCK IT! I CAN RUN!

Then I lose all my money and can’t afford more Diet Mountain Dew so I resort to mixing splenda packets with free water from the soda fountain at Wendy’s. Little cups because they’re free so I have to keep going back and getting more and more. More trips. More splenda.

Until I pass out.

And start all over again.

Soon.

Soon.

This is what years of running and soccer will do to you…

This is what years of running and soccer will do to you…

A story too good not to tell...

Let me set the scene… 10 year old in the shower, me at the sink brushing my teeth….

“Dad, can I do a golden shower?” - my son

“Um, what?!” - me

“Can I do a golden shower?” - my son

“Um, what?!” - me

“Ya know, I gotta pee. Can I just do it in here or do you want me to get out and do it? A golden shower…” - my son

“…….” - me

“Dad?” - my son

“No and that is NOT called a golden shower.” - me

“What’s it called then?” - my son

“It’s called get out of the damn shower and go to the bathroom before you get in there next time.” - me

It’s gonna storm again but at least the power is back on...

It’s gonna storm again but at least the power is back on at the stadium. Match is gonna be an hour late but I at least get to see the game before I go back home to the dark.