The Butcher Block Spa & Resort, Part I

"It's no longer a question of staying healthy. It's a question of finding a sickness you like."

- Jackie Mason

So it seems I got a little unplanned R&R at Elmhurst Hospital the last week of January. My intestines went and burst a seam again. I had been having some soreness in my lower abdomen and it was swollen and hard to the touch so I went and saw Dr. Agarwal in his apartment/doctor's office to get it checked out.  The pain I was experiencing was different than any I had ever had with Crohn's disease. I was kinda thinking it might be appendicitis. It was not. The kind doctor immediately diagnosed it as an infected abscess in my bowels and I should check myself into the hospital ASAP. I told him I'd think about it.

Thinking about it didn't actually take very long as I awoke the next morning with an EXTREME amount of pain and quickly hauled ass to the ER at Elmhurst Hospital, or as I like to call it, The Butcher Block Spa & Resort.

A Room with a View

It's a fairly liberating feeling to be the only person not shackled to one's bed, yet somehow I felt left out. The ER at Elmhurst is chock full of souls so full of joie de vivre that they must be handcuffed to their beds to make sure they don't burst into song and dance at the pure joy of being there. I guess they didn't feel I was all that happy to be there. I did get a great view, however. My bed was parked perpendicular to the bed of a 'man of the earth' shall we say. And his exposed backside seemed to be covered with some sort of mud wrap. He seemed quite relaxed. Matter of fact, were I not aware that I was in a spa I might think he was passed out drunk. As an orderly wheeled me away to get some 'radiation therapy' I made him promise to give me the same view when I returned. He laughed.

I think he laughed because he knew what was awaiting my return from 'radiation therapy'. Man, this place is popular! It completely filled up while I was away and rather than give me my old space he parked my bed in between two other gentlemen's. Room Upgrade, baby! The Honeymoon Suite! Those guys must have been super VIPs because they both had police escorts.

A nurse came in and pulled the curtains closed. I was getting the velvet rope treatment! I admit it felt good. I asked her why. She replied, "To give you some privacy." I looked around at the six guys inside the curtained-off area with me and nodded.   Yeah! VIP, baby! They didn't really acknowledge me. I guess those guys just take being VIPs for granted. The nurse pulled out a thermometer and told me she wanted to take my rectal temperature. I tried to play it cool like I was used to getting special treatment all the time, but my naivete may have shown through a little when I asked her if she was going to give me flowers first.

- No.

- Can you at least lie to me and tell me you love me?

- No.

Not wishing to feel any more the rube, I rolled over and dropped my britches. She took my temperature and I must say that after that experience I'm not so sure why people are so hot to get VIP access in clubs. Celebrities sure do some weird things.

It was time to check me into my room. As I was being wheeled off to the elevator I heard some guy scream out.

- Y'all don't understand! I gots blood coming out my dick! Now gimme a cuppa ice!

I had to chuckle to myself. If he were a VIP like me, he'd probably get all the ice he wanted...