2005-06-24 - 1:50 a.m.
HELLO THERE
I should say right off the bat that I'm afraid this particular entry may be a little more depressing than normal. I realize that most of the entries are already depressing in a "did I really just waste my time reading all of that?" type of way, so I just wanted to give you fair warning that this may be depressing even on top of that.
I wouldn't say it's especially depressing, but if it was, a really depressing post would certainly help turn this into an official blog. After that, I think the only thing left to do on the road to blog credibility would be to start off each post by telling you what album I'm listening to or what book I'm currently reading. As if.
But first, allow me to update you on a few things. I talked last time about having to go back for jury duty again, but those stinkin' jury fools never called me. You're supposed to get a call 2-3 days before you need to report and it never came. I was actually kinda looking forward to going this time because there's been a few cases in the area lately about these adult bookstores that, because some stuffy conservative types have their undershorts in a knot, are being charged with allegedly breaking obscenity laws. I wouldn't mind getting on one of those juries and striking a blow against censorship, because I'm totally against that. Yeah, I am. Actually, I'm more pro-boobies than I am anti-censorship. But I guess they didn't need any jurors for anything. It's certainly not my fault that they didn't need anybody, so I sure hope my name is out of the jury duty rotation for another year. It better be.
I'm also happy to report that the "my wife goes to bed too early" controversy that gripped the nation is steadily improving. After reading my last entry, she actually stayed up late with me that very same night, and we played a rousing game of Monopoly since I had mentioned that particular game in my post. But I forgot how boring it is to play the actual board game, where you gotta look up what something costs and count out the money every time you land on a square. Playing online is much
better, although up until a few nights ago, I hadn't actually done so in quite a while. Plus, in our standard non-online game, none of us even owned a monopoly on anything once all the squares were bought up. Wheee, what fun!
Overall, though, she's staying up a little later each night and I'm going to bed a little earlier. And both events are happening at the same time a little more frequently. The fact that she's making an effort to stay up later is particularly impressive considering that she's got a job now. Not an actual job-job, really, but the summer jobs she's been holding down
for the past few years. She teaches two aerobics classes at the Y on Mondays and Wednesdays, and on Tuesday and Thursday mornings she teaches gymnastics to a group of kids. She's free on Fridays and is accepting bookings, by the way, so go ahead
and call the house if you have an offer.
In a month or so, the gymnastics class turns into swimming lessons. The swimming thing has always struck me as a little odd, since I cannot fathom any way in which I could concentrate on learning to swim if I was staring at Charity in her bathing suit for an hour. But the kids are pretty young, so I guess that's not an issue. Still, I live in constant fear that she'll come home bawling because her suit came down or something and half the class drowned.
With that stuff out of the way, I guess I'll jump into the depressing part. Here, before I get going, here's a story to set the mood. About a week and a half ago, Charity and I went food shopping to buy our groceries and all such whatnots. While at the store, I saw this guy who I hadn't seen in probably 10-12 years. He name is Sean, he was the older brother of a friend of mine. He was about two years older than me and he was always a huge jerk and a bully. But he liked me for some
reason and he'd hang around with me and his brother and our friends sometimes. I couldn't stand him, but since I value my physical safety I never mentioned that particular tidbit to him.
He was big back then, but seeing him at the store, he had to be at least 6'8" and 300 pounds. I saw him from the back at first and I took note of him just because he was wearing a wrestling t-shirt. Plus, you tend to notice somebody that big regardless of what he's wearing. Then I saw him from the front and I saw his face and realized who it was. His face hadn't
changed at all since we were younger. Mine has, and my hair is totally different now, so if he even noticed me I doubt he recognized me. There was a girl with him and they seemed to be shopping together. The girl was kinda tiny, like maybe 5'2" or so, which made for a quite a contrast considering how big he is.
Anyway, I saw them in the aisle, then later I saw them in a checkout line while Charity and I were still shopping. It didn't make an impact on my day, it was just a "huh, how about that" kinda thing. Then yesterday I was talking to a friend who works at a newspaper, and out of the blue he asks "do you remember Sean?". And, naturally, that was kind of weird, since I hadn't so much as thought of this guy in 10 years, then in the span of a week I see him and someone else brings him up.
Well. As it turns out, my friend mentioned him because he'd just seen the arrest report in which Sean was charged with nearly beating his girlfriend to death. Not just one beating, either, apparently they had a fight in their apartment and he
beat her off and on over a period of 8 hours. She's in the hospital in pretty serious condition, and they're going to charge Sean with attempted murder. I don't know for sure that the girl in question is the same one I saw him with at the store, but I would assume so. And I can only imagine what someone his size could do to a petite little thing like she was.
Nice, huh? This is the kind of amusing, heartwarming fun you can expect if you keep reading.
So today I found out that the best man at my wedding is having most of his leg amputated tomorrow. This goes back to a car accident he had just after we graduated from high school where his foot was totally crushed. He's a diabetic and I guess diabetics in general often have problems with the blood flow to their feet. But after the accident, it was like his foot started to rot.
I remember about a year and a half after the accident he told me his foot had ulcers, which I had always thought was an ailment exclusive to the stomach. He showed it to me and, aside from being all swollen and infected and multi-colored and all that, there was a hole in his foot. An actual hole. It was almost completely to the bone, it was the worst thing I'd ever seen.
He's been dealing with it for 6 years now. Sometimes it would be fine, and other times it would get so infected and stuff that he couldn't walk. Not to mention that it was horribly painful. It really messed things up for him. He couldn't keep a
regular college schedule because of it. He had a weight problem for a long time, and around the time of graduation he had finally gotten it under control. But it's hard to keep exercising and stay in shape if you can't walk. Luckily, it was his
left foot, so he was still able to drive.
Last year in the weeks before my wedding while we were doing all the rehearsing and stuff, I remember he said he wished they'd just cut his foot off. I thought he was kidding, and I didn't even know that it was a possibility. I was with him for a few hours last weekend to watch a wrestling show on pay-per-view, and I knew his foot was bothering him, but it didn't seem to be any worse than normal. Then I got a call today from his Mom telling me that he was in the hospital and was having surgery tomorrow. The doctors told him that they could just amputate part of his foot, but it would take 6-8 months to recover and it wasn't even a guarantee that the problems would go away. Getting his leg cut off will only take 8 weeks to recover from and will fix the problem for good.
I went to see him at the hospital today. Twice, actually, because the first time Charity didn't want to go because she figured she'd see him and just start crying and would be of no use to anyone. Then when I came back, she felt terrible about not going and made me take her. Both of us were quite dismayed when we heard what was happening, but after seeing him, I
really couldn't believe how upbeat he was about the whole thing. He even made jokes about how he could tag team with this one wrestler who's missing a leg. I know how awful the problems with his foot have been, and obviously getting it cleared up is great. But still, losing a leg in the process? Jeez, man.
He was excited, though, and he was going on about the technology they use now for artificial legs. They take a mold of your... stump, I guess, and use some sort of special soft plastic that creates a suction and hooks the prosthetic leg onto
your body so you don't even have to strap it on or anything. And the plastic is soft, so it's like a natural cushion. And
they can do tests with some kind of light that show any gaps between the fake leg and the mold they took, so they can make
sure it'll be a perfect fit before you ever try it on.
But still. It's hard for me to say because I haven't gone through what he has, but I don't think I'd be willing to give up
one of my legs. It's my leg, you know? I've kinda become accustomed to it. Attached to it, if you will. It just sounds
awful to me. I felt awful both times I was there because I can't join in with his enthusiasm. There were like a hundred
things floating around in my head that would be negative about having your leg removed, yet he's so positive about it. So
then I'm worrying that he hasn't thought of the negatives, and that he eventually will, and that he'll get really depressed.
Then I wonder what the hell's wrong with me that I can't feel good about it when the only person who's opinion matters thinks
it's great.
I don't know what it is about this time of year. The worst shit has happened between mid-May and mid-June over the past few
years. Going back to 1999, the car accident that started this whole thing happened. The day we graduated, Owen Hart died at
a show in Kansas City. Then about a month after graduation, I heard that this kid I knew from high school, a freshman, had
committed suicide. His name was Evan, I didn't really know him that well. He was in this typing class that I took my senior
year because it was a breeze and I needed another credit. It was in a big room filled with computers, but there were only
like 15 people in the class, all freshman except for me. The girls sat at one end of the room, always giggling and whatnot,
and the boys sat at the other end. I kinda sat off on my own.
I didn't go to the class that often, but when I was there the teacher would always have somebody come over and show me what
we'd been doing. At first, it would always be one of the girls. They'd come over, show me, and then go back to the pack and
giggle some more. Then Evan started doing it and eventually I started going to him before the bell rang to ask him what I
missed.
He was a nice kid. He looked kinda nerdy with these glasses he had, and I got the impression that he was pretty smart. He
seemed to have friends. Other than seeing him in class, our relationship mainly consisted of me seeing him in the hallways
or the lunchroom and saying hey to him. You'd be surprised how many people I knew wouldn't say hi to underclassmen, like to
a friend of one of their younger siblings or something, because they thought they were too cool to talk to a freshman. I
never understood that. When I was a freshman I knew this guy who was a senior and he'd say hey to me in the halls. Not only
didn't he seem to care about looking cool, but it made me feel cool to have a senior talk to me, since all seniors seem cool
when you're an uncool freshman.
So that's how I knew him. Then after the school year ended, I heard he'd killed himself. I have no idea why he did it. It
really bothered me, perhaps unusually so when you consider I barely knew him. Still, though, I kept wondering what was
bothering him. What if there were guys at school picking on him and making his life miserable? If I'd made an effort to
get to know him better, maybe I would have known and I could have done something to help. And if I'm thinking of things like that
when I barely knew him, I can't imagine what his family must have gone through. It just sucks.
2002 was truly awful. Charity was involved in a road rage incident that summer that still makes me sick to think about. But
even that doesn't compare to what happened to my friend Ali. When they caught the guy who killed her last Fall, I thought
I'd write a post here about her, just about how I happened to get to know her and about what a nice person she was. I
couldn't do it, though. I still can't handle thinking about it to any great degree.
I'm not sure why I got off on this whole tangent about other bad stuff. I guess I'm just worried about what's going on tomorrow. I'm going to the hospital pretty early, so I should really get some sleep. But I'm not tired. Maybe I'll play some online Madden football, I need to hone my skillz now that my buddy's gonna be laid up for a while.
I gotta go.
