"Heart, Why Are You Pounding like a Hammer; Why are You Beating Like A Drum"

“I get it everyday,
I’m getting used to it.
But everytime it hits,
My heart quits.
I wear a little smile,
While swallowing the dirt.
But underneath my shirt,
My heart hurts.”

Nick Lowe, “My Heart Hurts” from Nick The Knife, 1981.

After meeting with the surgeon today, we have decided to have the surgery on Wednesday, April 5. That is exactly 18 months from the last one.

Well, we are hoping that this is the last one and I must say I am disappointed to a degree to go through this again. On the other hand, having been through this once, I guess I am more prepared as to what to expect.

Pam and I decided to do this sooner than later and have a longer period to recover so I can work at full force next year. I think my jaw dropped when the surgeon came in and said, “How does Wednesday look?”

“Not too far off,” I thought.

“Perfect,” was what Pam said.

I guess I should be more careful in what I ask for, huh?

Last time I waited six weeks; this time six days. I knew it was coming and he assured us that this not an emergency. He also stressed this could be a few stitches as opposed to redo the whole procedure—but he also said he would know once I was under.

People usually ask questions—so here are some of my tongue-in-cheek Most Frequently Asked Questions and Answers:

Does it hurt? Uh…yes. They cut into your sternum, separate it and tear into muscle. It hurts like Hell. Granted I do not have much of a chest, but what I have (you know its tight and buff—ok it’s not) still hurt like the Devil danced on it.

Have they improved Urinary Caths? Sure they have, but guess what—no where in life does it make sense to put things up when things should be flowing down. I vote for a big diaper in the future—but that’s just me.

Are you out of it after surgery? Pam is still telling me stuff the first day that I have very little recollection of. Although I doubt I really said “I hope all of you bastards die a grisly death from the pain you gave me.” (That was a joke—I am not sure I used the words grisly and bastards—too many syllables. Hopefully I will be awake enough for Survivor on Thursday. By the Way—Wednesday is a good surgery day—nothing on TV.

Can you talk to people? Not really, as this is pretty taxing and using chest muscles to do “complicated tasks” like talking and breathing and slight movements takes a lot out of me. After five minutes of speaking to people, I usually wish to pass out. The good thing is, screaming takes too much energy. I used many hand gestures—one that kept reoccurring when people ask, “does it hurt?”

How is hospital food—SUCKS! I mean there is bad and then there is “would not feed it to Junior High kids who are too ignorant to know better” bad. The food was worst than that. Hospital food adds to people’s illness and discomfort and also forces them to leave quicker—“oh I could stay another day but then I would have to eat that item that vaguely resembles a mammal.” Pudding Cups and Ice Cream cups are good, though.

Do people lie to you? Oh yeah, you have tubes running in and out, you have blood on your shirt, and you are more pale than Lily Munster and people come in and say “Wow, you look great.” My first thought was, “Damn, how badly did I look before?” I often wonder how the rest of the patients look. First you are white, then yellowish, and then a kind of pinkish tone (all this may only be applicable for Croatians and Germans). People also lie when they say “This will not hurt.” Yeah, right. I think they should finish the sentence “This will not hurt ME; you, you should prepare for eyes to start watering at any moment.” The other lie, I noticed is when I smelled myself for the first time after not showering for three days and nurses (with tears in their eyes) commented that I did not smell at all. Heh heh, getting even is great. I smelled NASTY!

Are nurses nice? Most are, as I am pretty pushy and demanding (believe that or not) but every Wing has a Nurse Ratchet that comes in and chews you out and makes you feel like a burden. Actually, in the end, she’s the one you like the best because your hatred of her fills you with a desire to survive—if for no other reason than to get even with her. She needs to be paid more, in my opinion. They also lie when they comment how well you performed during surgery—“He did fine” they said. Yeah, I lied there in a comatose state with the best of them.

What do you hate to hear from a doctor? When they stand there, whisper to others, look at a chart or device or something and then they mutter “Hmm..have we tried (insert your favorite Greek or Latin laced medical term here)? Oh we have, we’ll let’s wait and see.” Then they noticed your blood pressure has shot up and they ask you why you are nervous. I also hate the long drawn out “Uh-huh’s from these guys.” Further, I hate it when they bring in the living will guy. I always have visions of that scene from Monty Python and The Holy Grail--“Bring out your dead/This one’s not dead yet/Clunk/He is now, thanks!”

Does the surgeon ask unneeded questions? Yep. First time I saw him the surgeon while I was lying there before surgery he asked how I was feeling. Who cares how I am feeling? I want to scream, how are you feeling? You are not mad at anyone or feeling tired or anything? You are calm and sober, right? No hangovers, no fights with anyone, you have your parking space secured, your favorite team won last night, they have not cancelled your favorite show—anything that will add to his discomfort, I figure, is not helping me. Then he asked what music I wanted to hear, and I said “The Beatles” and ten seconds later after hearing the first few bars of “You’ve Got To Hide Your Love Away” (one of my most hated Beatles songs) I was out. Seems to me he should play what he wants—although I think I would draw the line on “Death Metal” and “Disco.” “Death Metal” does not put people in a “survival mode” and any Doctor who likes Disco probably did not graduate at the top of his class.

And lastly, do you think you will be all right? Normally I would have some smarmy, smart-alec, answer here, but I will be fine. This is the most serious I will be; the one thing this surgery taught me is that I need to help others in life as much as they helped me. I think we all have a role in the intermingling of our lives and I am not too proud to say that I would not be here without the skill of the doctors and nurses and the care of my wife, my cats, my family, my friends, my colleagues, and my students. If you were sent this blog and have the patience to read this far—thanks for being a part of my life—and we still have a long way to go. When the surgeon says 95% of the people make it through fine, then I am probably less worried about death and more concerned with fixing it and getting this over. There are many people in worst states than me. I will be up and around in three weeks after surgery (although they make you walk the next day as I restart Cardio-rehab). I hope to see you soon.

So there I have it—hoping to be more positive about this than I was last time, hoping to make some jokes about it, and hoping to feel as good in a few months as I do now.

More later…

Left of The Dial--And The RIGHT Thing To Do

“My bummin' slummin' friends have all got new bootsAn' someone just asked me if the group would wear suitsWe're a garage bandWe come from Garageland”

“Garageland” by Joe Strummer of The Clash—The Clash debut album, 1977.

Someone asked me once, why the fascination with “Punk Rock” and the “Post-Punk” bands? The answer is simple and I will direct you to a relatively new documentary called Punk Attitude. Punk is from the gut, it’s a kick in the crotch to wake people up, and it’s a call to expressive and artistic license.

DIY (Do It Yourself) bands were tired of the “corporate” rock world of long instrumentation and annoying solo’s and songs about “twilight realms” (Dream-Weaver) and lame pop ditties (Don’t Go Breaking My Heart and Love Will Keep Us Together) in the mid-1970s. I mean Rock Music is supposed to stand for something.

Rebellion is less of a word and more of an attitude. For those who think “three chords,” followed by indistinguishable “screams,” followed by an “up yours” lyric is Punk Rock, well, you have part of the story, but not the whole novel.

Punk’s foundations are in the rebellious nature of the forefathers of rock (Elvis and Jerry Lee) and the angst over how crappy bands took over the radio. Be honest, Yes even to a person who finds them somewhat interesting as a band, as for the person who marvels at Eric Clapton as a solo player; must admit that after a while, it is pretty dull. “Peace and Love” in the 1960s gave way to complacency, big bucks, and yawn music. Hence Punk came in.

Chrissy Hynde of the Pretenders in the Punk Attitude film said that Punk lasted only nine months because the bands that practiced their craft eventually became better—therefore less “punky.” But she is quick to point out that the experimental aspects and willing to take ownership of the art form is the true message of punk—as exemplified in the “Post-Punk” movement. She’s right. I guess the knock is that Post-Punk is so dark and Goth-like. Actually that critique is more based on stereotyping than it is based on truth.

Henry Rollins, also from the film, said as soon as “Mom knew what punk was, it has to go.” Again, right. When it becomes part of the mainstream, it has to change.

The music is so much more than Green Day, Blink 182, and Nirvana. I like those bands as well, but there is so much more.

Still, I enjoy it. The “we will win” attitude, the expression of noise, the “knock you out and take you by surprise” lyrics, the ability to laugh at ourselves, the ability to believe individuals can make a difference, and the “we do not need anyone to helps us” form of individuality have all been around since this country was founded—I consider Thomas Jefferson an example of a “punk” in his day. The music simply headed in that direction in the mid to late 1970s after the rock world hit a wall of corporate control.

I am not as much a fan of Oi (which is almost exclusively British Bands barking like Soccer Hooligans), but I concede it has a place.

I have listed some great websites if interested on Punk and Post-Punk music. Take a gander. I highly recommend The Punk and Post-Punk Diaries by George Gimarc for your reading pleasure. I also recommend the Punk Websites and the links they offer.

I have been buying up the Punk Singles Collections on Amazon and eBay and enjoying some of the British and lesser known bands (by the way—Punk started in the USA with sick of being glam groups like MC5 and Iggy and The Stooges, and then the attitude and sound hit the UK with the importation of the music of The Ramones.)

I also encourage you to take a gander at what Chrissy Hynde meant by listening to the POST-Punk Chronicles CDs (from Rhino) and Left of the Dial—The Post-Punk Dispatches from the Underground College Radio CD Box Set. Fantastic music, to be honest, that I remember it being played when I was in college.

I have recently completed my collection of Trouser Press magazines from the late 1970s until the run ended in 1984 and have been impressed with the articles in them. There were some great INDEPENDENT bands out there (Suburban Lawns, Other Ones, R.E.M.--when owned by IRS records, Joy Division, Echo and The Bunnymen, Violent Femmes, The Cure, and so many others).

Lastly, go to the video store or check the listings on IMF, Fuse, or the Documentary Channel (see kids—DISH is sooooo much better) and watch Punk Attitude—it is a great film. Jello Biafra (former leader of the Dead Kennedys) has brilliant commentaries, as does Rollins, Tommy Ramone, Hynde, “Legs” McNeil, and so many of the founders and later continued players of the Punk Music scene and the people who dealt with the repercussions of the Post-Punk Independent Music scene.

Also, as a plea to artistic expression—visit INDEPENDENT Record shops to help bring new sounds into your world. In Normal, Waiting Room Records does a fine job and has given people an alternative to Best Buy and the like. In fact, if you live in the area and want to check out the CDs I listed, go in, order from Jared, and help support the local businesses of the community. There is an example of something “punky” you can do.

For the Luck of The Draw...

“I can't rub two dimes together
I'm so broke that it's a shame
Though we're two birds of a feather
Lady Luck don't even know my name”
“Lady Luck” as recorded by The Brian Setzer Orchestra.


Some call it bad luck, I call it annoying.

On February 6, I discovered my newly acquired heart valve was leaking. After a throat echocardiogram, it was discovered the valve was leaking around the sutures of the valve and that the valve was intact and functioning normally.

That was the good news.

The bad news—surgery needs to be performed.

I have tried to approach this differently than before, as I am less afraid of meeting the grim reaper and more angered by the whole thing. As a doctor told me, it could only need “two stitches and we’re done.” How horrid. Cut open my chest, six weeks of healing and for what—TWO STITCHES? I mean, while we’re in there for seven minutes, could you look at my spleen as well? Let’s earn our money.

Add to it, five of his patients out of the last twenty-five years have had this problem. That’s 5 out of 1500 or so. Unreal, the "Lady" luck is simply unreal--that is what I deserve with all of my swarmy comments to women. I guess if you fall into that stat of 5 out of 1500, you won’t fall into the stat of the 5% who do not survive—well, at least I hope.

I meet with the surgeon this week, and I will report on the blog then.

Added to that, I have a Baker’s Cyst behind my knee. This can be caused by a torn meniscus, an athletic injury, or gout. Since I am not active, I vote the latter.

I guess getting older sucks to a degree as Pam pulled her back out again. She commented the other night that our bodies act older than they are.

Still, I have some luck. The valve itself is NOT leaking; the valve is not “moving” (bad news) or “twisted” (worse news). This is very treatable and I am at no greater risk than before—so that is good as well.

Well as good as it gets—we all know how well I deal with this stuff. Oh,and do not fall into my traps gentle reader, I wish no pity. I fully expect to be up playing PUNK CD's, reading Batman, cheering on the Bears, and being a general pain in the ass as soon as the surgery is complete. Just with my luck--I will not expect to win any lottery games any time soon.

Here is my philosophy: It is what it is; they will fix it; and I will be fine.

I guess this was a bad time to try to give up swearing for lent. More “good luck,” as it were. More later…

Talk is Cheap

“I can't seem to talk about The things that bother me Seems to be what everybody has Against me! (ooh! ooh! ooh! yeah!) Talk, talk Talk, talk Talk, talk Talk, talk”
Taken from Talk Talk sung by Alice Cooper on The Flush The Fashion album, 1980

A friend sent me this on the complexity of the English language. Add your own. His are in italics while mine are in bold.

Reasons why the English language is so hard to learn:

1) The bandage was wound around the wound.

2) The farm was used to produce produce.

3) The dump was so full that it had to refuse more refuse.

4) We must polish the Polish furniture.

5) He could lead if he would get the lead out.

6) The soldier decided to desert his dessert in the desert.

7) Since there is no time like the present, he thought it was time to
present the present.

8) A bass was painted on the head of the bass drum.

9) When shot at, the dove dove into the bushes.

10) I did not object to the object.

11) The insurance was invalid for the invalid.

12) There was a row among the oarsmen about how to row.

13) They were too close to the door to close it.

14) The buck does funny things when the does are present.

15) A seamstress and a sewer fell down into a sewer line.

16) To help with planting, the farmer taught his sow to sow.

17) The wind was too strong to wind the sail.

18) After a number of injections my jaw got number.

19) Upon seeing the tear in the painting I shed a tear.

20) I had to subject the subject to a series of tests.

21) How can I intimate this to my most intimate friend?

There is no egg in eggplant nor ham in hamburger; neither apple nor pine
in pineapple.

English muffins weren't invented in England or French fries in
France

(Surprise!). Sweetmeats are candies while sweetbreads, which aren't
sweet, are meat...

Quicksand works slowly, boxing rings are square and a guinea pig is neither
from Guinea or is it a pig. And why is it that writers write but fingers don't
fing, grocers don't groce and hammers don't ham?

If the plural of tooth is teeth, why isn't the plural of booth beeth? One goose,
2 geese. So one moose, 2 meese? Doesn't it seem crazy that you can make
amends but not one amend. If you have a bunch of odds and ends and get rid
of all but one of them, what do you call it? Is it an odd, or an end? If teachers
taught, why didn't preachers praught? If a vegetarian eats vegetables, what
does a humanitarian eat?

In what language do people recite at a play and play at a recital? Ship by truck
and send cargo by ship? Have noses that run and feet that smell?

How can a slim chance and a fat chance be the same, while a wise man and
wise guy are opposites?

You have to marvel at the unique lunacy of a language in which your house can
burn up as it burns down, in which you fill in a form by filling it out, and in
which, an alarm goes off by going on.

English was invented by people, not computers, and it reflects the creativity of the
human race, which, of course, is not a race at all. That is why, when the stars
are out, they are visible, but when the lights are out, they are invisible.

P.S. - Why doesn't "Buick" rhyme with "quick"?

Shut the Hell Up. What does this mean? Why insert Hell in shut up? Is Hell loud? Does it need to be shut? Is it up—I thought it was down.

I have heard this before “Your ass is grass and I am a lawnmower.” Does this mean someone wishes to mulch my ass or eat it?

$hit eating grin. Now, I am not sure on this, as having never tasted excrement, but I assume I would not be smiling when doing so.

And my favorite expression from the hospital—“this won’t hurt at all”—yeah, you liar! That was uttered when the pulled a urinary cath out of me. Or “These have improved over the years” I don’t care if the thing is made of silk, you put something into a place where things should only go out.

Have a good one.

Time to "Get Hammered"

“He did the Mash (He did the Monster Mash)
(The Monster Mash) It was a Graveyard Smash”


Among my favorite pleasures as a child was growing up in Ottawa, Illinois where Sunday was the best day of the week.

Every Sunday morning my brother, father, and I would rise at 5:30 and deliver Chicago Tribunes and Chicago Sun Times to the East Side of Ottawa. I actually earned about fifteen dollars a week, and for a third grader, that was a great deal of cash. We would then go to the Ottawa News Agency where the owner Russ would give me boxes of free comic books. Following the News Agency, we would go to McDonalds and have an Egg McMuffin—still one of my all-time favorite food choices, although I no longer partake—Weight Watchers, don’t you know. Then we sat in the same pew for 10:30 Mass at St. Pat’s, followed by heading home to watch Bob Luce Wrestling. After Wrestling, my brother and I would watch the Horror Movies on Channel 32 and Channel 44.

As a child, I grew up watching Hammer Horror films and I still feel the love of the classics today—the best being The Horror of Dracula (1958) starring Christopher Lee as Dracula and Peter Cushing as Dr.Van Helsing. It was gothic, it was cryptic, and it was kind of scary. Bela Lugosi as Dracula from Universal was cool and the accent was wild, but Christopher Lee’s Dracula was…well…violent and frightening. I mean, one would expect that from Dracula, but Lugosi was corny and this was creepy.

I loved the Curse of the Werewolf with Oliver Reed as well, and I would safely argue it was a more frightening film than Universal’s Wolf-man with Lon Chaney Jr.

Universal’s Frankenstein and Mummy were better, but that is simply because Boris Karloff was the best horror film actor, ever.

The Dracula films kept me as a Hammer fan with The Brides of Dracula, The Scars of Dracula, Taste The Blood Of Dracula, Dracula 1972 A.D., and Satanic Rites of Dracula. I watched them all and I thought they were fantastic.

Marvel Comics began a line of horror comics that I think were more than loosely based on the Hammer films over Universal. The Tomb of Dracula series from Marvel was more akin to Lee than Lugosi; the Werewolf By Night series seemed to draw a more modern edge to the monster like Hammer films--much more so than Universal films. The Living Mummy series was also a bit more Hammer-like; and the Curse of Frankenstein series was probably borrowing little bits from each, as the Monster wasn’t a raving psycho like Universal’s version, however he looked more Karloff like than he looked like the Christopher Lee version.

It is funny how I still derive pleasure from these flights of fancy that I possessed as a child. Marvel Comics has re-published their Monster Series in a series called “Essentials” and have re-printed every Dracula story and the first two years of Werewolf By Night and Curse of Frankenstein. I am hoping for a Living Mummy Series as well.

Hammer films are being re-released on Universal DVD’s—having just acquired the Horror of Dracula volume; I decided to order the others from Amazon.

I wish I could go back in time and relive those Sunday mornings of working hard, being paid with a vast amount of “riches” for a kid, having every comic I ever wanted for the asking, and watching those classic horror films. The kids today do not know what they are missing.

Although I could do without those cold Sunday Mornings with a beater car that barely had heat while we toiled across the East Side…and I suppose I can do without the Egg McMuffins, although I certainly miss them.