Sorry for the lack of any posts. I've been extremely busy with my real life.
I got a job that has been kicking my ass.
I'm a security guard now and let me tell you.....so many stupid people.
First day on the job I got pepper sprayed. Mind you, it wasn't directly in my face but it was damn close. You see, some people were arguing in the Food court of the local mall(No, I'm not a mall cop. My company was just contracted out to them for the holidays) and I tried to break it up. One girl pulled another girl by the hair and the girl whose hair got pulled whipped out a thing of pepper spray. I was almost in between them so I could break it up and prevent a fight. So when the girl sprayed the other girl in the face, my face was roughly 2 foot away. I ended up getting a big blast of it in my face.
That was awesome...
May I recommend that no one ever get sprayed with that shit. It's not fun.
My second day of work I ended up dealing with an extremely racist Cashier. I was patrolling the mall and going into every store so people could see that I'm there.
Remember, a big rule of being a security guard is that our very presence detours crime.
Anyways, the cashier at this store starts talking to me. I figured why not, my legs are killing me, I could use an excuse to rest for a minute.
So he starts out small, weather and what not. Then he goes into how he doesn't like the local black people coming in his store and demanding better prices. He'd continuously say use "quotes" such as "Yo dawg, why you not be giving me anything cheaper? I can get this crap for 50 bucks at another store" and various other ones.
The best part was he even used a few racial slurs. This went on for 30 whole minutes too so he had ample time to get things off his chest. I didn't want to stay the entire time but my legs were in so much pain.
He finishes and I go back to work. I ended up having the next day off but then I worked the day after that. I return to his store and he's working again. He waves me over and chats me up again. He started out the same way he did 2 days before. First he talks about the weather, ect, ect then he goes into how ever since he told me about the local black people problem that he hasn't had any come back in his store and he thanked me for it.
I was stunned and speechless. All I could say was "No problem..." and I walked off.
Lucky for me I never ended up seeing him again. I think he went home after that.
I didn't work again till Boxing day and that was an experience all on it's own.
The mall was packed. I mean full, overloaded, crowed, and whatever other words there are for way too many fucking people.
I was originally going to be patrolling the first floor of the mall. That would have been a blast. Nice walking, get to chat with people, can sit down from time to time. Nice easy work. Sadly, the fates hated me that day and I got put somewhere else.
I got put atop of the broken down escalator and was incharge of telling people that it wasn't working and that they had to watch their step. It doesn't sound too bad but people are idiots. Complete idiots.
Traffic to this escalator can come from two directions. The left and the right. The right has plenty of room so people can build up and there wouldn't be a problem with the flow of traffic. The left however has a small pathway that can block traffic to a lot of stores so I had to stop people from the right going down the newly formed stairs to let the people on the left go down so I could alleviate the traffic jams.
Not too bad of a job except for stupid people who ever in a hurry to get nowhere.
I wasn't 10 minutes in and I had to stop the right. At first everything is going fine. People are moving, all is well. Then some asshole from the right starts pushing people out of his way saying how he's had enough of this "Fucking bullshit waiting" and preceded to push CHILDREN. He got up to me and pushed me out of the way while spouting some bullshit about how he's been waiting for 10 minutes to use the stairs.
First off, bullshit. The longest anyone had to wait was a minute tops. Why? Because of the wait was any longer than that they'd go use the 3 means of getting to the first floor.
This asshole get passed me and actually starts pushing people ON THE ESCALATOR out of his way aswell. This was just shocking to me. I couldn't believe someone had that little regard for safety.
After that everything calms down for a few hours. Though, I did have a lot of people say things like "No shit it's not working, dumbass" and various other things ending in dumbass. But believe it or not, I also had a lot of people ignore me and precede to the tip of the top stair and almost fall down because they were expecting it to move.
After about 3 hours of this some kid comes up to me and says
"Hey man, I'm just gonna jump on the side and slide down. I'm in a hurry, okay"
I looked at him like he was retarded and flat out said
"No, you're not"
He replies
"Come on man, I'm in a while. It'll be fine. I'll be quick"
I responded with
"No, you won't. You do it and you'll be banned from this mall"
He looked at me like he was about to do it anyways. Infact, he actually had one of his legs up on the rail and was ready to hope over. So, I looked straight in his eyes and said in a deep voice so damn near anyone around me could hear me.
"NO"
He brought his leg back down and walked properly down the stairs.
I felt rather cool after that to be honest. My authority was respected.
It then got boring...again. The only thing that kept me moderately sane was these extremely cute girls at the shop across from me kept flirting with me and bringing me out chocolate and water and even chatted with me.
So ya, that's the exciting first ever week of work for the mighty Randy. Life is pretty awesome right now to be honest. I'm finally working, I'm getting ready to go back to school. I'm getting results from my doctors about my back issues, and chicks really dig the security uniform.
I may take some time to update this but I will always have one up every 2 weeks at the latest. The soonest of course would be 1 week.
Till next time my loyal readers.
Wednesday, December 28, 2011
Friday, December 16, 2011
Twisted messages
Remember my first post in this blog? I sure do. It was about me ripping my balls on a fence. Fun times.
Wait, it gets better.
You see, when I was 15 or so I lived in Salem, Mass. You know, that witch town that's in the movies. Nice place(Not really). Well, one morning during I think spring break something interesting happened.
I had awoke to take a piss at like 10am. Was a very nice pee. I flush, I pull up my pants, and I head back to bed for a couple more hours of sleep.
As I get back into my bed and try to get comfortable, I start to hurt in my balls. Was a small pain at first so I tried to ignore it and go back to sleep but after about 2 minutes it got a lot worse. I tried to wake up my little brother to talk to him about the pain but he was sound asleep.
I walked out to the Living room where my older brother was sleeping and tried him instead. I managed to get him up and told him that I had a lot of pain....down there. He told me to shut up, man up, and go back to bed.
I paced around the living for a minute or two debating on whether or not I should do what I was thinking of doing.
Finally, the pain got so bad that I had to.
I went into my Mother's Room and she was on the phone for a business call. I tried standing there waiting till she got off the phone but it seemed like she'd never get off the phone. I tried whispering to her that I needed to talk to her but she just did that angry look of "Don't you see I'm on the phone?".
So, finally......I flashed my mother and in her eyes was extreme horror because my right Testicle was massive. I'm talking like putting a grape beside a golf ball in some tinfoil. It was fucking noticeable.
I'm not even sure if she told the person she was talking to that she had to go, she just hung up the phone fast. I tell her what happened and we rush to the hospital.
Now, this is where this part of the story sucks for me. You'll see as I go on.
We arrive at the Hospital and my mom starts yelling at the Nurse in the triage. I get seen right away and given a lot of Morphine as soon as I lie down on the bed. The pain was so bad that even through all that Morphine I still felt a large majority of the pain. The only upside was that things go so cloudy it didn't bother me as much. Like, I could feel it but my mind didn't care whatsoever.
Doctor walks in next. My mom and I tell him what happened and he tells me that luckily he dealt with something like this the week before I came in on a much older gentleman. He goes on to tell me that I had twisted a testicle. Somehow in my sleep the little guy did a 360 and the vein had strangled off all circulation to the testicle and that it was a good thing I got there when I did. He might be able to save it. He waves for a few Nurses to wheel me somewhere. I think it was an X-ray. I'm not entirely sure. My mind at that point was focusing on two things.
1: Fuck it, I don't care about the pain anymore. I'm not here right now.
2: Oh god, so many hot nurses around me....are...are they touching my balls? Oh god, they are. Why are so many hot Nurses touching my balls? Don't get an erection......
And then I blacked out. Turns out they were prepping me for surgery.
I woke up some time later to 2 Doctors and Nurse sitting around my bed. They tell me that they managed to save my testicle but walking will be extremely difficult for the next little while and that my heart had stopped on the operating table. They informed me that the anesthesiologist hadn't taken into account that I had a lowered breathing capacity because of my disease.
They gave me too much and my heart and lungs had stopped for approximately 45 seconds.
In my mind, I was thinking "Whoah...I didn't even see a white light or anything. I had just closed and opened my eyes...crappy". One of the Doctors ask if I was okay with being told that and I tell them that ya, I'm fine.
Next they tell me that I'll have to where a weird cup like thing to keep my balls from falling out when I try to walk again. I nod and tell them I'll wear it. I tried it once but it was tight and amazingly uncomfortable so I never wore it again. Nothing ever happened to fall out. I still have both my balls, thankfully.
So, there is that story. Sorry for the wait. Things have been hectic as hell in my life. I even got a job.
Till next time.
Wait, it gets better.
You see, when I was 15 or so I lived in Salem, Mass. You know, that witch town that's in the movies. Nice place(Not really). Well, one morning during I think spring break something interesting happened.
I had awoke to take a piss at like 10am. Was a very nice pee. I flush, I pull up my pants, and I head back to bed for a couple more hours of sleep.
As I get back into my bed and try to get comfortable, I start to hurt in my balls. Was a small pain at first so I tried to ignore it and go back to sleep but after about 2 minutes it got a lot worse. I tried to wake up my little brother to talk to him about the pain but he was sound asleep.
I walked out to the Living room where my older brother was sleeping and tried him instead. I managed to get him up and told him that I had a lot of pain....down there. He told me to shut up, man up, and go back to bed.
I paced around the living for a minute or two debating on whether or not I should do what I was thinking of doing.
Finally, the pain got so bad that I had to.
I went into my Mother's Room and she was on the phone for a business call. I tried standing there waiting till she got off the phone but it seemed like she'd never get off the phone. I tried whispering to her that I needed to talk to her but she just did that angry look of "Don't you see I'm on the phone?".
So, finally......I flashed my mother and in her eyes was extreme horror because my right Testicle was massive. I'm talking like putting a grape beside a golf ball in some tinfoil. It was fucking noticeable.
I'm not even sure if she told the person she was talking to that she had to go, she just hung up the phone fast. I tell her what happened and we rush to the hospital.
Now, this is where this part of the story sucks for me. You'll see as I go on.
We arrive at the Hospital and my mom starts yelling at the Nurse in the triage. I get seen right away and given a lot of Morphine as soon as I lie down on the bed. The pain was so bad that even through all that Morphine I still felt a large majority of the pain. The only upside was that things go so cloudy it didn't bother me as much. Like, I could feel it but my mind didn't care whatsoever.
Doctor walks in next. My mom and I tell him what happened and he tells me that luckily he dealt with something like this the week before I came in on a much older gentleman. He goes on to tell me that I had twisted a testicle. Somehow in my sleep the little guy did a 360 and the vein had strangled off all circulation to the testicle and that it was a good thing I got there when I did. He might be able to save it. He waves for a few Nurses to wheel me somewhere. I think it was an X-ray. I'm not entirely sure. My mind at that point was focusing on two things.
1: Fuck it, I don't care about the pain anymore. I'm not here right now.
2: Oh god, so many hot nurses around me....are...are they touching my balls? Oh god, they are. Why are so many hot Nurses touching my balls? Don't get an erection......
And then I blacked out. Turns out they were prepping me for surgery.
I woke up some time later to 2 Doctors and Nurse sitting around my bed. They tell me that they managed to save my testicle but walking will be extremely difficult for the next little while and that my heart had stopped on the operating table. They informed me that the anesthesiologist hadn't taken into account that I had a lowered breathing capacity because of my disease.
They gave me too much and my heart and lungs had stopped for approximately 45 seconds.
In my mind, I was thinking "Whoah...I didn't even see a white light or anything. I had just closed and opened my eyes...crappy". One of the Doctors ask if I was okay with being told that and I tell them that ya, I'm fine.
Next they tell me that I'll have to where a weird cup like thing to keep my balls from falling out when I try to walk again. I nod and tell them I'll wear it. I tried it once but it was tight and amazingly uncomfortable so I never wore it again. Nothing ever happened to fall out. I still have both my balls, thankfully.
So, there is that story. Sorry for the wait. Things have been hectic as hell in my life. I even got a job.
Till next time.
Thursday, December 8, 2011
From Child to Adult
Everyone is different. Everyone takes information and processes it differently. So what I am going to say won't apply to everyone but it's how I saw/see it.
When I was 13 I was told that I wouldn't live to see 25. News like that hit me hard. I didn't turn to drugs, crime, ect but I also didn't push myself to prove those doctors wrong. I went the fuck it route and decided to not take anything in life seriously. That attitude didn't hit me too hard until I did the transition from Children's to Adults.
At the good ol' age of 16 is when they start the transition to Adult's Hospital and it's not an easy time for Cfers. When you turn 16, you're entire life is thrown on your shoulders and you're expected to handle it with ease. Sadly, that wasn't the case with me. Because of what I was told when I was 13, I wasn't mentally ready to have my life weigh me down like that. I thought I was unstoppable and that CF was a joke. I only take care of my self as a kid because it's what the Nurses and Doctors told me to do. If I didn't I'd get lectured and yelled at. When they took that away, I stopped taking care of myself.
I'm not saying their shitty system is to take all the blame. I blame myself for being so stupid that I took my health for granted but the system didn't help. I was a kid.
So, they start the process by taking you to the Adult's and showing you around the outpatient clinic, take you to the Ward where you'd spend your hospital stays, and then introduce you to the Nurses. It's a miserable process let me tell ya.
Children's is bright, caring, you can feel the love in the air, everyone is cheerful. You feel good just being there.
Adult's is like prison. The paint is faded, the ceilings have mold or water damage, the nurses all look pissed off and overworked, the TVs are these little 10 inch screens that are staticy as fuck, and they charge you for cable where Children's was free. It costs 16 dollars a day for shitty cable in the hospital and 10 dollars a day for phone.
All the time added up from my hospital stays would probably equal a year to a year and a half. Now imagine paying 16 dollars a day for 365 days. That's almost six thousand dollars.
Shaw Cable isn't even that expensive.
In Children's clinic, you get like 6-9 caring Nurses who constantly ask how you're doing and seem interested and you also get 2-3 Doctors who do the same.
In Adult's clinic, you get 1 over worked nurse who doesn't seem to give a flying fuck and 1 over worked Doctor who really doesn't give a fuck at all and seems to be in it for the paycheck at this point.
Because I was a stupid kid I weighed the importance of my health based on the nurses and doctors and how they treated me. I was stupid like that. In Children's I was constantly being asked if I was taking care of myself and I was. I needed that.
In adults, you come in, meet your over worked Nurse, she'll ask you how you're feeling, if you're sick, she'll get the doctor and tell him, he'll come in, ask the same question, then prescribe you an antibiotic, then leave. The whole process would take about 7 minutes and 3 of those minutes would be you waiting on the Doctor.
A kid doesn't need that kind of environment.
So, without the needed questions of if I was taking care of myself by 10+ different people, I stopped taking take of myself all together. I figured if the doctor doesn't show concern, then why should I?
After 2-3 years of this, my lung functions dropped rapidly. When I was 19, I started the assessment for the Lung Transplant. Mid way through the assessment I asked to switch Doctors because I wasn't happy with my current one. It took a while to find a new one but when I did. My health got better and I pushed off transplant for 4 more years. This new Doctor gave me what I needed. She actually seemed to care about me and because of that my health went up. She showed concern so I took CF seriously again.
I mean, I still did the bare minimum because I was still in that shitty attitude of "I'm dead anyways" but I was taking care of myself. That bare minimum saved my life.
I apologize for the delay in the post. I spent all week trying to word everything properly and make sure it was coherent.
When I was 13 I was told that I wouldn't live to see 25. News like that hit me hard. I didn't turn to drugs, crime, ect but I also didn't push myself to prove those doctors wrong. I went the fuck it route and decided to not take anything in life seriously. That attitude didn't hit me too hard until I did the transition from Children's to Adults.
At the good ol' age of 16 is when they start the transition to Adult's Hospital and it's not an easy time for Cfers. When you turn 16, you're entire life is thrown on your shoulders and you're expected to handle it with ease. Sadly, that wasn't the case with me. Because of what I was told when I was 13, I wasn't mentally ready to have my life weigh me down like that. I thought I was unstoppable and that CF was a joke. I only take care of my self as a kid because it's what the Nurses and Doctors told me to do. If I didn't I'd get lectured and yelled at. When they took that away, I stopped taking care of myself.
I'm not saying their shitty system is to take all the blame. I blame myself for being so stupid that I took my health for granted but the system didn't help. I was a kid.
So, they start the process by taking you to the Adult's and showing you around the outpatient clinic, take you to the Ward where you'd spend your hospital stays, and then introduce you to the Nurses. It's a miserable process let me tell ya.
Children's is bright, caring, you can feel the love in the air, everyone is cheerful. You feel good just being there.
Adult's is like prison. The paint is faded, the ceilings have mold or water damage, the nurses all look pissed off and overworked, the TVs are these little 10 inch screens that are staticy as fuck, and they charge you for cable where Children's was free. It costs 16 dollars a day for shitty cable in the hospital and 10 dollars a day for phone.
All the time added up from my hospital stays would probably equal a year to a year and a half. Now imagine paying 16 dollars a day for 365 days. That's almost six thousand dollars.
Shaw Cable isn't even that expensive.
In Children's clinic, you get like 6-9 caring Nurses who constantly ask how you're doing and seem interested and you also get 2-3 Doctors who do the same.
In Adult's clinic, you get 1 over worked nurse who doesn't seem to give a flying fuck and 1 over worked Doctor who really doesn't give a fuck at all and seems to be in it for the paycheck at this point.
Because I was a stupid kid I weighed the importance of my health based on the nurses and doctors and how they treated me. I was stupid like that. In Children's I was constantly being asked if I was taking care of myself and I was. I needed that.
In adults, you come in, meet your over worked Nurse, she'll ask you how you're feeling, if you're sick, she'll get the doctor and tell him, he'll come in, ask the same question, then prescribe you an antibiotic, then leave. The whole process would take about 7 minutes and 3 of those minutes would be you waiting on the Doctor.
A kid doesn't need that kind of environment.
So, without the needed questions of if I was taking care of myself by 10+ different people, I stopped taking take of myself all together. I figured if the doctor doesn't show concern, then why should I?
After 2-3 years of this, my lung functions dropped rapidly. When I was 19, I started the assessment for the Lung Transplant. Mid way through the assessment I asked to switch Doctors because I wasn't happy with my current one. It took a while to find a new one but when I did. My health got better and I pushed off transplant for 4 more years. This new Doctor gave me what I needed. She actually seemed to care about me and because of that my health went up. She showed concern so I took CF seriously again.
I mean, I still did the bare minimum because I was still in that shitty attitude of "I'm dead anyways" but I was taking care of myself. That bare minimum saved my life.
I apologize for the delay in the post. I spent all week trying to word everything properly and make sure it was coherent.
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