Thursday, July 26, 2007
LOST AND TRANSPORTATION.......
Must be the season for surgery.
A lot of my mates are going back on to the chopping board at the moment.
Eid from rehab was to go the hack on Monday, but that was delayed for two weeks.
David is going under the knife on Friday to have his stump worked on.
Al is looking at having his right arm amputated in the near future.
He's really struggling with that one, reckons he would have been better off if the medicos had just chopped the damned thing off when he was in an induced coma.
It's giving him no end of grief as not only is it completely unusable, it is also causing him a lot of pain, despite the fact that he has no sensation or control in that appendage.
Damien is coming back to Melbourne from the country to have extensive surgery on various limbs due to the bones not uniting.
There's even talk of stem cell injections or something like that.
Then there's my impending operation, whenever that happens.
Still need to see the plastic surgeon before any decision on a date is made.
Hospital time is completely different to normal time, it's as if all normal temporal laws have been turned upside down.
There is no way of telling exactly how close or far away that surgery is, good example of that is Eid's delayed surgery.
He was all set to have it done and now has to wait another two weeks.
I guess these kind of operations are classed as Category 2, as in: not life threatening but necessary.
Had the pleasure of a couple of very quirky tram drivers today.
The first yelled loudly and clearly through the PA system:
"Does anyone know what the quietest form of transport in Melbourne is? Seeing as I'm not getting any replies I will now describe in great detail the next four stops."
And he did.
For the next four stops it was all:
"Next stop is Gratten Street. Here you can go to the Royal Women's Hospital, RMIT, so if anyone wishes to get to these places you should use this stop and catch the buses running east west, etc"
He seemed to posses an almost obsessive knowledge of all local attractions around each stop and delighted in enlightening the passengers in a very loud and concise manner.
The next tram driver spoke with the kind of voice usually reserved for elderly priests giving mass.
His spoke with a dead pan monotonic voice and lingered on the last syllable of every word far longer than was normal for anyone.
"Next stop is Latrobe Streeeeeet. If you have any belongings please take them with youuuuu. With have a lot of stuff left behind on the traaaaam. Don't leave them on the tram as our lost and found property department is absolutely fuuuuull. It's shocking."
Later on that tram, a lady with a pram and toddler.
The toddler, excited by the experience of riding on the tram is standing on one of the seats staring out of the window.
He spots a mcdonalds outlet and immediately brings it's existence to the attention of half the tram's passengers.
As the tram gets closer and then further away from the outlet the child's frantic "Macdonalds! Macdonalds!!!" gradually crescendos from an excited announcement to a pleading lament and finally into a full blown scream.
Beseeching his poor mother to, for all intents and purposes, stop the tram and appease his sudden need to patronise the junk food purveyor, the little brainwashed tyke is met with a "And so?" from the clearly bemused mother.
His extraordinary arousal at the sight of the outlet finally climaxes with his falling off the seat onto the floor, then confusion as to whether he should cry because of the sudden altitude change or the fact that his need for macdonalds has not been sated.
That mixed with a clear anger towards mummy was the last I saw of the disturbed little child as I alighted.
I didn't realise that macdonalds marketing and adveratising could have that big and impact on anyone, especially on someone so young.
This kid went ballistic at the sight and took temporary leave of his senses, would've jumped right out of the window if it was open.
Anyone older acting like that would usually be either snotted one on the kisser or committed to a psychiatric institution.
A very disturbing thing happened today.
I taped the wrong channel on the VCR.
Instead of the two hour season finale of Lost, all I got was some serious debate about something meaningful or other.
My life is now in a state of suspension as I try to figure out if anyone I know taped the episode, or if I can somehow find it on the net and download a copy.
AAARRGGHHHH!!!!
God I hate that show!
But I can't help watching it.
I know how that little kid felt now.
.
A lot of my mates are going back on to the chopping board at the moment.
Eid from rehab was to go the hack on Monday, but that was delayed for two weeks.
David is going under the knife on Friday to have his stump worked on.
Al is looking at having his right arm amputated in the near future.
He's really struggling with that one, reckons he would have been better off if the medicos had just chopped the damned thing off when he was in an induced coma.
It's giving him no end of grief as not only is it completely unusable, it is also causing him a lot of pain, despite the fact that he has no sensation or control in that appendage.
Damien is coming back to Melbourne from the country to have extensive surgery on various limbs due to the bones not uniting.
There's even talk of stem cell injections or something like that.
Then there's my impending operation, whenever that happens.
Still need to see the plastic surgeon before any decision on a date is made.
Hospital time is completely different to normal time, it's as if all normal temporal laws have been turned upside down.
There is no way of telling exactly how close or far away that surgery is, good example of that is Eid's delayed surgery.
He was all set to have it done and now has to wait another two weeks.
I guess these kind of operations are classed as Category 2, as in: not life threatening but necessary.
Had the pleasure of a couple of very quirky tram drivers today.
The first yelled loudly and clearly through the PA system:
"Does anyone know what the quietest form of transport in Melbourne is? Seeing as I'm not getting any replies I will now describe in great detail the next four stops."
And he did.
For the next four stops it was all:
"Next stop is Gratten Street. Here you can go to the Royal Women's Hospital, RMIT, so if anyone wishes to get to these places you should use this stop and catch the buses running east west, etc"
He seemed to posses an almost obsessive knowledge of all local attractions around each stop and delighted in enlightening the passengers in a very loud and concise manner.
The next tram driver spoke with the kind of voice usually reserved for elderly priests giving mass.
His spoke with a dead pan monotonic voice and lingered on the last syllable of every word far longer than was normal for anyone.
"Next stop is Latrobe Streeeeeet. If you have any belongings please take them with youuuuu. With have a lot of stuff left behind on the traaaaam. Don't leave them on the tram as our lost and found property department is absolutely fuuuuull. It's shocking."
Later on that tram, a lady with a pram and toddler.
The toddler, excited by the experience of riding on the tram is standing on one of the seats staring out of the window.
He spots a mcdonalds outlet and immediately brings it's existence to the attention of half the tram's passengers.
As the tram gets closer and then further away from the outlet the child's frantic "Macdonalds! Macdonalds!!!" gradually crescendos from an excited announcement to a pleading lament and finally into a full blown scream.
Beseeching his poor mother to, for all intents and purposes, stop the tram and appease his sudden need to patronise the junk food purveyor, the little brainwashed tyke is met with a "And so?" from the clearly bemused mother.
His extraordinary arousal at the sight of the outlet finally climaxes with his falling off the seat onto the floor, then confusion as to whether he should cry because of the sudden altitude change or the fact that his need for macdonalds has not been sated.
That mixed with a clear anger towards mummy was the last I saw of the disturbed little child as I alighted.
I didn't realise that macdonalds marketing and adveratising could have that big and impact on anyone, especially on someone so young.
This kid went ballistic at the sight and took temporary leave of his senses, would've jumped right out of the window if it was open.
Anyone older acting like that would usually be either snotted one on the kisser or committed to a psychiatric institution.
A very disturbing thing happened today.
I taped the wrong channel on the VCR.
Instead of the two hour season finale of Lost, all I got was some serious debate about something meaningful or other.
My life is now in a state of suspension as I try to figure out if anyone I know taped the episode, or if I can somehow find it on the net and download a copy.
AAARRGGHHHH!!!!
God I hate that show!
But I can't help watching it.
I know how that little kid felt now.
.
