M.I.s Hurt! Hurts Like A Bitch Load Of Bitches In A Bitch Boat!
Disclaimer: I am not having now nor have I ever had a Myocardial Infarction (heart attack) so I can't speak from personal experience as to the amount of pain one has to endure during a catastrophic cardiac event. On the other hand I've never taken a claw hammer and smacked myself up side the head with it either but I sure as Hell bet that it hurts like a son of a bitch too. If it makes any difference, at 6'4" and 375#, I'm sure it's just a matter of time; if that helps.
Warning: Even though I'm writing these words prior to my composing the body of this diary, I'm sure it's going to contain Stories From the E.R., and knowing myself as I do, they might end up being a bit on the "graphic" side. Not for me mind you because when you end up going out to eat right after working in the Gross Anatomy (dissection of a human cadaver) lab and you don't miss a beat (or your appetite, or your lunch,) then you tend to be a bit desensitized to this sort of thing. But if you, or a family member have undergone CardioPumonary Resuscitation because of a Heart Attack, think first. By all means Read On if you like, just don't say I didn't warn you.
Warning.1: My wife read this after getting off from work this morning and she, very very politely, asked me to put in a second warning about my choice of verbiage in this little essay. So to that end: I cuss a bunch in this one guys so if that bothers you don't go any further!! Turn back before the flying monkeys descend upon you from on high and rip out all your straw!!! I tried to explain that this is a site predominately inhabited by adults but whatcha gonna do? So if you have a weak or sensitive constitution, I am hereby officially putting you on notice that my loquacity, at times, tends to run towards the salty. FOR GODS SAKE, DON"T READ IT!!! THINK ABOUT THE CHILDREN!! WHAT ABOUT THE CHILDREN!!!
Thank you! dc
Warning.2: OK, so that last one was a touch too sarcastic (or so I was told.) I personally don't see it but my wife said it was so here we go, again (and without that sarcastic touch that I do so well): There is rough and caustic language herein. Read at your own risk.
As always. dc
As I have a want to do from time to time, I was channel surfing and went over to see what was airing on the Faux "News" cable network. Lo and behold, what to my wondering eyes should appear but one fat conservative and four tiny other more conservatives. It's this really great early evening show called The Five (combined group I.Q. points). For a change Faux "News" was actually talking about the same story every other cable news network was covering, the botched execution of Oklahoma prison inmate Clayton Lockett. But wait, there's more! Faux's The Five (combined group I.Q. points), had a slightly different take than all the other networks if you can believe that. Rather than seeing this horrible mistake of government as the monumental insanely inhumane fuck up that it was, their whole take was that 43 minutes minutes just wasn't long enough for this guy to suffer. So shouts I at the TV machine, "You group of freaky fucking sadistic scumbag fucks!! Why don't you just slap his black ass on the rack and disarticulated him first!! You could probably make that last for HOURS and then he'll be begging for the hot shot!!"
As she has a wont to do all of the time, my wife told me to calm the fuck down and change the channels if it's upsetting me that much! Lord knows I've tried to explain that I actually enjoy raising my blood pressure by yelling at imbeciles, morons and assholes on the TV looky box, but my views have yet to prevail in my house. I guess she has a point. None the less, listening to The Five (combined I.Q. points) Ghouls got my twisted imagination going, coming up with ways to snuff these poor bastards without any of the fuss and muss but still would put on a good enough show for these twisted sick fucks on Faux. I came up with all sorts of evil fucked up ways to kill designed not only to get the job done but to insure that the condemned put on a "good show". At least they'd do enough flopping around and twitching for those fucktards on The Five (combined I.Q. points) to get all of their good "Christian" boners (or other anatomical features that can experience a combination of engorgement and moisture) hard enough to scratch diamonds like ice.
Now, despite the above disclaimer, I'm not going to list any of them here. Not that I don't think most of you could take it, I just don't want to reveal what a sick twisted fuck I am. Let us just say that some of them involved going by the dry cleaners prior to murdering these turds, or various uses of piano wire, roof joists and concrete floors with drains. Even though my wife's an RN, it didn't take long before she'd reached her limit. What actually scared me was that I actually came up with an easy, cheap, and painless way to absolutely get the job done, and it doesn't require a physician, RN, or any medications stronger than the Midazolam that they were already using. My first thought was, 'hey, I can find a way to use that in one of my diaries.' Then I thought, 'No! I don't want to even mention it in ANY public forum, EVER!' If they haven't figured it out by now, I'm not going to put the notion in anybodies head. They might actually use it.
=Dateline Knob Noster
=
Several years ago I was asked to give a talk to a group of Hospice workers. As a part of my lecture I tried to figure out exactly how many people I had seen die over the years. I was very surprised at the number I came up with, using what I thought were very conservative numbers. I thought I could say, with confidence, that I had participated in at least 700 codes (cardiac resuscitations) including my student years forward. And, unlike the shows on the TV, not a lot of those codes were successful, particularly in my earlier years (I suppose the good news here is that people are surviving these procedures more and more these days and with the advent of new drugs coming on line as well as new and improved techniques, like therapeutic hypothermia, these numbers are bound to increase.)
Well, needless to say, that number only went up as the years chugged on by. To be perfectly honest, my point isn't to brag about how many notches I have on my Littmann (stethoscopes, nice ones.) I suppose the reason I mention it at all is to establish my bona fides when it comes to the wonderful world of Myocardial Infarctions. I've coded men, I've coded women, I've coded friends, I've coded family members, fathers of friends, mothers of friends, wives of friends and their kids. My oldest code was 107 and my youngest was 1/2 of a minute. BTW, you've never lived until you've lost a baby right in your hands, something NO ONE EVER gets use to, and then imagine having to go tell the guy you were just playing softball and hoisting beers with the night before that his baby and wife just died and that you couldn't do one God damn thing to prevent it. And that all you could keep thinking about when you were sitting there talking to him was the sight of his sons grey matter. Yep, I've seen a bunch of shit over my 55 (almost 56) years on the planet. You try and remember the faces but they're lost to the mists of time, and the ones you do remember are the ones you'd like to forget (but you never will.) I can still hear the wales of the mother of my last code patient. She died at age 6 of Neisseria meningitidis meningitis. Even if I would have know what it was at the time, we probably couldn't have done anything to help this poor little girl. At least that's what you tell yourself. I just stood there and looked at her skinny little brown arms and thought how much they looked like my daughter's. Good Times!
Well, enough of that, I suppose what I'm ultimately trying to say is that dying from a heart attack is neither clean, nor is it in any way, shape or form of the word, peaceful. It's unpleasant, it's incredibly painful, and I wouldn't wish it on anybody if I had a say in it. The problem is that when someone suffers a cardiac event like that, they are, on many occasions, fully aware of what's going on for a great deal of the process. A person who's suffering from a heart attack many times are hot, sweaty, short of breath and know that they're about to die and that nobody in that room trying to help them is going to change that fact. You can push drugs, administer oxygen therapy, intubate them (put a tube down into their lungs) to help them breath, precordial thumps (and yes, I know that the procedure is passé, I still did it, what's the harm and I've seen it work) and finally do chest compressions to try and emulate the work that their heart had been doing, from before they were born, up until that moment. People loose control of their bladder and bowels at times. They often vomit around their endotracheal tube (why is it BTW that no one properly chews spaghetti and how do I know that little snigglet?) In short, it sucks! It sucks as bad as anything you can imagine. If you've ever had a serious muscle cramp in your calves, or the back of your thigh, or any other major muscle group, think about how bad that hurts. Now think about that same pain deep inside your chest. I refer you to the above disclaimer but it sure always looked like it hurt a whole hell of a lot to me, for whatever my opinion counts for.
So why, one might ask, would I, or anyone for that matter, be advocating on behalf of a bastard who killed a 19 year old girl by ultimately burying her alive? Why thank you doc. What a great question! I'll tell you why: I don't have much sympathy for humans in general anymore, much less even a drop of the milk of human kindness for those who do asshole things like that. I guess I'm just to old or cranky or both at this point. That said, these "Christians" are completely discounting the whole notion of redemption. Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know what you people who actually believe in the "Murder Penalty" (see you miserable republican fucks, you're not the only ones who can rebrand stuff you don't like), would say, "throw these miserable douche nozzles a Bible and tell 'em to cram for the final." OK, I get that on a certain level, who couldn't. These guys don't exactly engender a whole lot of sympathetic or warm and fuzzy feelings, but to those of us who don't suffer from cognitive dissidence, that doesn't matter. Remember the Constitution of the good 'ol U.S. of A., or that Supreme Court that you love so much... now. They both say you can't torture someone to death in this country. Do the words 'Cruel and unusual Punishment' ring a bell somewhere? I didn't think so.
I therefore plant my flag right here in the good old Terra firma! I'm against the torturing to death of individuals in the custody of the State, particularly NOT IN MY GOD DAMN NAME. I'm just touchy that way. Go figure. It's just too fucked up. And, as someone who's spent a majority of his academic and professional life trying to do just the opposite of that, I say CUT IT THE FUCK OUT!!! YOU'RE NOT VERY GOOD AT IT!!! Jesus Horatio Christ on a Bloody Fucking Crutch if there isn't even one moderately intelligent dipshit motherfucker republican bureaucrat in the whole of the Oklahoma (or Missouri for that matter) Department of Corrections that can figure out how to snuff a brother without fucking it all up, well, maybe you should all get outta the murderin' business all together! For Fuck's sake you ignorant bastards, you couldn't have screwed the pooch on this one anymore if you'd have handcuffed him, gagged him, tattooed him with 'I want to ass rape all your sons and daughters and wives when I get out!!' on his chest and shoved him out into the genpop yard in prison. Christ Jesus, even your most ignorant fucking hood rat junky or low life gang banger knows how to end the life of a nigga' without it taking 43 GOD DAMN MINUTES!!! These are people God Damn It! We treat our pets with more compassion! Even my baby cat (her name, not her age) won't play with a mouse that long before she gets tired of it! The mice don't always die, but their warranties are sure voided. AND THEN we find out that this poor guy was tased earlier that day?!?! Talk about a day starting out shitty and going sideways on ya!
On the other hand, it's suppose to be a nice day today.
Oklahoma O! K!