The Surgery Channel

That's what I call it anyway. Both my girlfriend and my mother like to watch surgery shows on tv. I'm not talking about E.R., I mean shows that show actual surgeries being performed.

It grosses me out. I can't watch that stuff. I don't really understand why anybody wants to watch that.

I think the main channel that has those shows is the Discovery Health Channel.
Some sample titles of actual shows on DHC:
Born without a face
Born with two heads
Conjoined Twins: Critical Decision
The Curse of the Elephant Man
Face Eating Tumor (WTF!! are you kidding me? What kind of sicko sees that title and says "Hey, that sounds good"?)
Gender Swap (I try to be openminded, but the thought of getting your privates cut off on purpose just gives me the heebiejeebies)

And I don't even know what the shows are called that just show doctors cutting up on people for whatever reason. Whenever I see that stuff on the tv I quickly look away and leave the room. Sometimes I even cover my ears and hum so I don't hear them describing what they are doing.

I'm glad our medical technology is so advanced. I'm very happy that I can reap the benefits. But I just want to sign in at the hospital, get some good drugs and wake up to find it's all done cept the healing. I do not want to watch.

A few years ago my dad went in to have a colonoscopy (soon after I found out I had colon cancer) and my mom went along. She knew the doctor (he was my doctor/surgeon for my cancer stuff and he's great) who was performing the colonoscopy and she asked if she could watch. He said if it was ok with my dad it was fine with him. My dad said sure so my mom hung out in the colonoscopy room and watched em shoving the camera up my dad's ass and then got to watch the video of the insides. She loved it.

*Shudder*

My parent's are both in their sixties now and they have friends their age they hang out with and I swear, all they talk about is medical stuff. Who's got what and what surgeries they have had or are going to have. Sometimes my mother forgets herself around me and starts dishing out all of this "medical gossip". Once she starts I have to jump in front of her and shut her down, like Superman in front of a speeding train. I really, really, really don't want to hear about somebody's nephew in Santa Rosa who has cancer of the testicles. Thanks anyway.

Sometimes this fascination with the surgery channel bites em on the ass though. A few weeks ago I came home from work and Doro told me she had had nightmares because of some nasty bit of business she had watched on the surgery channel. Of course, she didn't learn from this mistake. She still watches that stuff.

Her and my mom both call me squeamish and they might be right. I can watch all kinds of nastiness in a horror movie or action movie (although the end of Braveheart makes me queasy and they don't actually show anything. Just that dwarf's pantomine of what they are going to do to Mel makes my stomach do flip flops) but I hate to watch the real thing.

The Surgery Channel

That's what I call it anyway. Both my girlfriend and my mother like to watch surgery shows on tv. I'm not talking about E.R., I mean shows that show actual surgeries being performed.

It grosses me out. I can't watch that stuff. I don't really understand why anybody wants to watch that.

I think the main channel that has those shows is the Discovery Health Channel.
Some sample titles of actual shows on DHC:
Born without a face
Born with two heads
Conjoined Twins: Critical Decision
The Curse of the Elephant Man
Face Eating Tumor (WTF!! are you kidding me? What kind of sicko sees that title and says "Hey, that sounds good"?)
Gender Swap (I try to be openminded, but the thought of getting your privates cut off on purpose just gives me the heebiejeebies)

And I don't even know what the shows are called that just show doctors cutting up on people for whatever reason. Whenever I see that stuff on the tv I quickly look away and leave the room. Sometimes I even cover my ears and hum so I don't hear them describing what they are doing.

I'm glad our medical technology is so advanced. I'm very happy that I can reap the benefits. But I just want to sign in at the hospital, get some good drugs and wake up to find it's all done cept the healing. I do not want to watch.

A few years ago my dad went in to have a colonoscopy (soon after I found out I had colon cancer) and my mom went along. She knew the doctor (he was my doctor/surgeon for my cancer stuff and he's great) who was performing the colonoscopy and she asked if she could watch. He said if it was ok with my dad it was fine with him. My dad said sure so my mom hung out in the colonoscopy room and watched em shoving the camera up my dad's ass and then got to watch the video of the insides. She loved it.

*Shudder*

My parent's are both in their sixties now and they have friends their age they hang out with and I swear, all they talk about is medical stuff. Who's got what and what surgeries they have had or are going to have. Sometimes my mother forgets herself around me and starts dishing out all of this "medical gossip". Once she starts I have to jump in front of her and shut her down, like Superman in front of a speeding train. I really, really, really don't want to hear about somebody's nephew in Santa Rosa who has cancer of the testicles. Thanks anyway.

Sometimes this fascination with the surgery channel bites em on the ass though. A few weeks ago I came home from work and Doro told me she had had nightmares because of some nasty bit of business she had watched on the surgery channel. Of course, she didn't learn from this mistake. She still watches that stuff.

Her and my mom both call me squeamish and they might be right. I can watch all kinds of nastiness in a horror movie or action movie (although the end of Braveheart makes me queasy and they don't actually show anything. Just that dwarf's pantomine of what they are going to do to Mel makes my stomach do flip flops) but I hate to watch the real thing.

Drugs are good

The little plot of land that our trailer rests on originally had a house on it. The house was quite small, sort of a studio apartment type of house. They guy who owned the property bought the trailer and had it plopped down in front of the little house. The little house (we call it The Hut) still resides behind the trailer. When we moved in we were told we could use The Hut for whatever we wanted but under no circumstances could anybody live in it. Some sort of county regulations.

We have fixed up the front room as an art studio for Doro. The back room is storage. When we moved in I hauled all my boxes of books, comic books and misc boxes of crap into this room and piled em all on top of some wooden pallets. In the year we have been here more and more crap has filtered back into this room until it got to the point that you really couldn't get at anything. We really needed some shelves in there so we could organize the boxes.

When we were fixing up the studio part of The Hut we wanted a door to use put on top of some sawhorses to use as an art table. Our friend dietcokehed is in the property management business and she said she could hook us up with a door. One day she arrived with many doors. I think there were 7 of them. I piled all those in the storage room too, except the one whe uses for a table.

I had been contemplating for quite some time the idea of using the doors to make shelves in the storage room and yesterday I put this plan in motion. The first part of the plan was hauling everything out of the storage room and piling it in the art studio. Then I built the shelves (I pretty much suck as a carpenter. I'm better than Homer Simpson, but that ain't saying much. Usually I'd get my dad to help, he kicks carptentry ass, but he's busy putting hardwood floors in their house). The shelves completed (and they aren't half bad) I now got to haul everything back into the storage room and stack it on my new shelves. Finally I was done.

I went into the house and felt kinda funny. My lower back was suddenly in revolt. I hadn't really noticed it while I was working but now my lower spine felt like it was made of cracked glass. I laid down on the floor on my back, hoping the flatness and stretching out would help move everything back to where it was supposed to be. After getting the dog off of me I laid there for awhile, groaning. When I tried to get up, I almost couldn't.

I think I pulled some muscles or something. If I lean forward it feels like the stuff that is supposed to keep my upper body from falling forward isn't working right.

Doro offered me drugs. Vicadin. I took one before bed and they are amazing. I still felt some twinges when I moved my back but it was no longer pain. I can see why people get addicted to these things. They aren't as good as the morphine drip I had going into my spine when I had my surgery, but then, what is? That was good stuff. Helped me sleep real good too.

Drugs are good

The little plot of land that our trailer rests on originally had a house on it. The house was quite small, sort of a studio apartment type of house. They guy who owned the property bought the trailer and had it plopped down in front of the little house. The little house (we call it The Hut) still resides behind the trailer. When we moved in we were told we could use The Hut for whatever we wanted but under no circumstances could anybody live in it. Some sort of county regulations.

We have fixed up the front room as an art studio for Doro. The back room is storage. When we moved in I hauled all my boxes of books, comic books and misc boxes of crap into this room and piled em all on top of some wooden pallets. In the year we have been here more and more crap has filtered back into this room until it got to the point that you really couldn't get at anything. We really needed some shelves in there so we could organize the boxes.

When we were fixing up the studio part of The Hut we wanted a door to use put on top of some sawhorses to use as an art table. Our friend dietcokehed is in the property management business and she said she could hook us up with a door. One day she arrived with many doors. I think there were 7 of them. I piled all those in the storage room too, except the one whe uses for a table.

I had been contemplating for quite some time the idea of using the doors to make shelves in the storage room and yesterday I put this plan in motion. The first part of the plan was hauling everything out of the storage room and piling it in the art studio. Then I built the shelves (I pretty much suck as a carpenter. I'm better than Homer Simpson, but that ain't saying much. Usually I'd get my dad to help, he kicks carptentry ass, but he's busy putting hardwood floors in their house). The shelves completed (and they aren't half bad) I now got to haul everything back into the storage room and stack it on my new shelves. Finally I was done.

I went into the house and felt kinda funny. My lower back was suddenly in revolt. I hadn't really noticed it while I was working but now my lower spine felt like it was made of cracked glass. I laid down on the floor on my back, hoping the flatness and stretching out would help move everything back to where it was supposed to be. After getting the dog off of me I laid there for awhile, groaning. When I tried to get up, I almost couldn't.

I think I pulled some muscles or something. If I lean forward it feels like the stuff that is supposed to keep my upper body from falling forward isn't working right.

Doro offered me drugs. Vicadin. I took one before bed and they are amazing. I still felt some twinges when I moved my back but it was no longer pain. I can see why people get addicted to these things. They aren't as good as the morphine drip I had going into my spine when I had my surgery, but then, what is? That was good stuff. Helped me sleep real good too.