Tuesday, June 27, 2006
FOOTBALL, PIZZA AND MORPHINE..... OR HOW AUSTRALIA WAS KNOCKED OUT OF THE WORLD CUP
Operation Pus Storm went well as far as operations go. ( incidently, I previously said this operation was no. 5 when in fact it was no.6 )
A quick visit from the surgeon confirmed that the cavity had indeed reached questionable proportions and had gone down to the metal.
I feel that if left any longer it could well have been of sufficient size to provide a new clandestine abode for Osama Bin Laden or Saddam Hussein ( or Sad and Insane as I prefer to know him as ).
Lord knows there were enough nasty little germs and other things of questionable character living in there!
Those two jolly Arabic larrikins would have felt right at home there, issuing fatwahs and reminiscing over their favourite jihad moments with gay abandon.
So after cutting away the damaged tissue and evicting the little nasties out of their warm and humid little home, the offending hole was closed up and stitched anew.
Let's hope this is the last time.
After waking up and receiving a visit from Sister Morphine I was eventually sent back to my room where I spent most of the night being poked, prodded and felt by nurses.
Unfortunately this wasn't in the manner in which I would have preferred but was simply in order to make sure I was still alive and no bits were falling off or whatever it is that they check.
After more visits from Sister Morphine my 4 hour long post op. wait was over and I was finally able to eat something.
My roommate Mark ( bless his little big brother addicted soul ) had ordered a pizza for us while I was lying on the chop shop table.
At this point The Australia v Italy game had gotten under way.
So there I lay, tucked into my bed, quietly munching on microwaved hot n spicy and bbq chicken pizza slices with my brain doing a leisurely backstroke around a kiddy pool full of morphine.
Bliss!!!
What a frustrating game it must've been for straight or drunk people.
The way in which the Italians won was truly, dare I say it, shite!
Firstly, the Italian who got the penalty only did so due to his incredible thespian talent and secondly, the referee was either racially prejudiced against Australia, or was on the take, or was as blind as a naked mole rat of the Afreakan scrub lands.
It seems that all three Australian games were aflicted with pillock referees and that is a real shame as the socceroos played very well and deserved better.
I'm kind of glad I was in an altered mental state as I probably would have gotten quite upset by the way in which Australia was knocked out had I not had a head full of narcotics.
It was painful but I just didn't notice or care about the pain :)
After the game, my drip was removed from my arm and the half hourly checks had ceased.
I was finally able to get some rest.........
Had another one of those Sound Of Music dreams again where I was running around some grassy meadow or something, without a care in the world, only to stop and think:
"Hang on a second! I cant walk let alone run!"
They are truly bizzare those dreams!!
A quick visit from the surgeon confirmed that the cavity had indeed reached questionable proportions and had gone down to the metal.
I feel that if left any longer it could well have been of sufficient size to provide a new clandestine abode for Osama Bin Laden or Saddam Hussein ( or Sad and Insane as I prefer to know him as ).
Lord knows there were enough nasty little germs and other things of questionable character living in there!
Those two jolly Arabic larrikins would have felt right at home there, issuing fatwahs and reminiscing over their favourite jihad moments with gay abandon.
So after cutting away the damaged tissue and evicting the little nasties out of their warm and humid little home, the offending hole was closed up and stitched anew.
Let's hope this is the last time.
After waking up and receiving a visit from Sister Morphine I was eventually sent back to my room where I spent most of the night being poked, prodded and felt by nurses.
Unfortunately this wasn't in the manner in which I would have preferred but was simply in order to make sure I was still alive and no bits were falling off or whatever it is that they check.
After more visits from Sister Morphine my 4 hour long post op. wait was over and I was finally able to eat something.
My roommate Mark ( bless his little big brother addicted soul ) had ordered a pizza for us while I was lying on the chop shop table.
At this point The Australia v Italy game had gotten under way.
So there I lay, tucked into my bed, quietly munching on microwaved hot n spicy and bbq chicken pizza slices with my brain doing a leisurely backstroke around a kiddy pool full of morphine.
Bliss!!!
What a frustrating game it must've been for straight or drunk people.
The way in which the Italians won was truly, dare I say it, shite!
Firstly, the Italian who got the penalty only did so due to his incredible thespian talent and secondly, the referee was either racially prejudiced against Australia, or was on the take, or was as blind as a naked mole rat of the Afreakan scrub lands.
It seems that all three Australian games were aflicted with pillock referees and that is a real shame as the socceroos played very well and deserved better.
I'm kind of glad I was in an altered mental state as I probably would have gotten quite upset by the way in which Australia was knocked out had I not had a head full of narcotics.
It was painful but I just didn't notice or care about the pain :)
After the game, my drip was removed from my arm and the half hourly checks had ceased.
I was finally able to get some rest.........
Had another one of those Sound Of Music dreams again where I was running around some grassy meadow or something, without a care in the world, only to stop and think:
"Hang on a second! I cant walk let alone run!"
They are truly bizzare those dreams!!
