Aug. 07, 2016 - 10:32 p.m.

Windows 95

Read this slowly, since that's how I typed it....

I think that's how I began the first entry I wrote after having my right elbow repaired back in 2014. The same applies now that I've just had my left elbow done. Once again I'm a one-armed keyboard warrior, hunting and pecking my way to internet glory. Very slowly.

For the next 4 - 6 weeks my arm is being held hostage by the same kevlar, carbon fiber, stainless steel, gorilla snot, and billet aluminum contraption as last time. It keeps my elbow held out away from my body, and bent at to 90 degrees. I look like I'm constantly trying to ask a question, or midway through a girl's baseball throw. (Shut up. You know you do, Princess.)

I'm also tethered to an ice water circulating pump again, which means my ass is velcroed to this recliner 23/24ths of every day. Every 4 or 5 hours NewWifey(tm) has to check the cooler and refresh ice accordingly. Once a week I get to duct tape a Hefty trash bag around my brace and shower off cheese and algae, but other than that and one brief trip to get my stitches out, I'm as much a fixture in our living room now as the coffee table and the, uh, well lets just call them "protein stains", on the couch. And rug. And walls.

However, just because I'm a one-armed wheel-less Steven Hawking doesn't mean I don't find ways to amuse myself. I don't watch TV, I can't work the Playstation controller, and I don't have a smart phone or tablet. Until recently I didn't even have a laptop, but right after my surgery a friend came over and donated her old one. "It's got Windows 95!" she said proudly. Except she was wrong. It's got Vista. Whatever. It pulls up RedTube just fine, and that's all that matters.

In between soiling tissues I also find hours of enjoyment tormenting NewWifey(tm), who has actually been trying her level best for once to be a supportive and caring wife. Idiot. There's no WAY I'm not going to take advantage of that. Foot massages, 2 a.m. runs to the 7/11 for Slim Jims, topless Macarena dances, you name it. As long as I start the sentence with, "Honey, my arm really hurts. Would you -" she does it. Anything.

Except that.

No way, no how. Nope. Not happening. Uh-uh. I can't even get a goddam hand job. "For godsake, if your head smells like Gorgonzola I can only imagine what Little Elvis reeks of. Here's your KY and another box of Kleenex. Have fun on RedTube."

Shit. Don't get me wrong, RedTube is great. But it just doesn't taste the same. So that's one issue.

Another weighty issue is...my weighty issue. One can only be distracted by porn and spousal subjugation for so many hours a day, it turns out (I know, crazy, right?). There are sometimes looooooooong stretches between bouts of diddling and making unreasonable demands on my wife, during which time my thoughts turn to the only thing left.

Food.

Seriously, boredom eating has rocketed up to number 3 on the "What I Did During Mein Kampf" list. After my weekly decontamination yesterday I saw the scale needle kiss the 200 mark for the first time in a dog's age. Even though my RoboCop sleeve probably accounts for at least 3 of those pounds, that's scary enough to put me off my Slim Jims for a while. I'll have NewWifey(tm) make 2 a.m. tofu runs from now on.

A couple of other observations:

I love my job, but I love not getting up at 3 a.m. for it even more.

Pooping while holding your arm like you're in the middle of a tennis serve, looped out on Percoset and attached to a soft serve ice cream machine becomes an adventure every time. It's a good thing DangerHouse has two bathrooms or NewWifey(tm) would be scrabbling gopher holes in the yard, I'm in there so long.

Falling asleep with one arm clamped into an ice water circulation system gives you funny dreams. Look up "Shackleton expedition" in Google images. I've been in every one of those pictures at least once now.

NewWifey(tm) is plotting her revenge, I just know it.

I miss my dog and cat. Or anything to blame some of these stains on.

Well, that's about it. I started this entry Saturday morning. It's now late Sunday night. That's prescription opiates plus 1-finger typing for ya.

I've got 2 more weeks in the 90-degree brace to go, after which they adjust it to allow for about 25 degrees of motion for a fortnight more. Then, hopefully, no more Gorgonzola! Woo hoo, brace yourself NewWifey(tm)!

In the meantime though, it's still the Palma Sutra for yours truly. So if you'll excuse me....

Ciao!

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