Tuesday, March 11, 2008
Bruno Watches "Bruno"
I'm going up to Lenox Hill Radiology after work for the mammogram I haven’t had in two-and-a-half years, which is enough time for something to sweep through my body and kill me. It’s unlikely, though. But another hurdle to jump over before I can get on with the rest of my week; a week of “I’m afraid of my phone again.”
I didn’t get very much sleep last night, partly because of restlessness about the mammogram. Also, I started watching the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame induction ceremony and I wanted to see the Dave Clark Five, which is now the Dave Clark Three. I’d been looking forward to seeing Mike Smith to see if he’d recovered from being paralyzed for life, but to my dismay, the other Dave Clark Five guys said that he’d passed away just a few days ago. Jim would have been very sad to have heard that.
Then at midnight I turned off the TV and started reading more “The Kite Runner” and I was starting to get sciatica pains, badly. But I had to see how the next part turned out and the next part and then when I went to lie down the nerve pain hurt too badly to breathe. My first line of defense is Capsaicin crème, a generic brand from the 99 cent store. But that did nothing, and I resorted to the nuclear option, half a Percoset.
This usually takes about a half-hour to work, so I got up and turned the TV back on and stood in front of it channel-surfing. I found a quirky little movie called Bruno on the Long Island station, about this cross-dressing whiz kid and his butch grandmother, Shirley MacLaine. I couldn’t sit and got tired of standing, so I lay down on my exercise mat in front of the TV.
At one point I’d thought I saw Brett Butler in a nun’s habit and figured I was hallucinating. But I checked out Internet Movie Data Base just now and it was her.
The sleep was good, but too short. And now I’m scared of the mammogram.
I didn’t get very much sleep last night, partly because of restlessness about the mammogram. Also, I started watching the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame induction ceremony and I wanted to see the Dave Clark Five, which is now the Dave Clark Three. I’d been looking forward to seeing Mike Smith to see if he’d recovered from being paralyzed for life, but to my dismay, the other Dave Clark Five guys said that he’d passed away just a few days ago. Jim would have been very sad to have heard that.
Then at midnight I turned off the TV and started reading more “The Kite Runner” and I was starting to get sciatica pains, badly. But I had to see how the next part turned out and the next part and then when I went to lie down the nerve pain hurt too badly to breathe. My first line of defense is Capsaicin crème, a generic brand from the 99 cent store. But that did nothing, and I resorted to the nuclear option, half a Percoset.
This usually takes about a half-hour to work, so I got up and turned the TV back on and stood in front of it channel-surfing. I found a quirky little movie called Bruno on the Long Island station, about this cross-dressing whiz kid and his butch grandmother, Shirley MacLaine. I couldn’t sit and got tired of standing, so I lay down on my exercise mat in front of the TV.
At one point I’d thought I saw Brett Butler in a nun’s habit and figured I was hallucinating. But I checked out Internet Movie Data Base just now and it was her.
The sleep was good, but too short. And now I’m scared of the mammogram.
