Flush it Friday – The Beargod, An Inspirational Tale. ©
Row, row, row your boat, gently down the stream. Belts off, trousers down, isn’t life a scream?
Yet another week has passed. Meaningless, it began. Futile, it ends. We listened to music, we complained, we shared our joys and we laughed and here we are again. It is time to flush that which reeks foul, a time to celebrate that which was nice and a time to tell the ugly to get a damn haircut, hippie. I’ll just cut to the chase.
THE GOOD: About halfway into August I went to see a doctor. I do this every year, a control check. Some of you know, and the rest will probably have guessed, that I am sick and that I have been sick for a good while. It’s not life threatening (not in the short-run) or especially inconveniencing, but it’s a damn annoying pain in the butt. However, the doctor did not have bad news for me. In fact, I haven’t been this well in years. It’s the first time ever after my diagnosis that I didn’t need a (temporary) boost in my medication. The only thing that’s physically “wrong” with me right now is my liver. The values (I don’t even remember what are they measuring) are a little high and that’s not even my own doing – alcohol isn’t to blame (for a change).
This is incredibly good news as it has been weighing heavier and heavier on my shoulders and for a fleeting moment I almost felt like everything was perfect. Until…
THE BAD: Being perfectly alright isn’t something I do. I’m well enough, which means I will remain ill until the end of my days, but since there’s nothing acutely wrong with me it means I have been, so to speak, dropped. No more control checks for me and while this sounds good at first, it isn’t. Because my sickness is by nature such that there will be better years and there will be worse years and such that you won’t really know which you’re living until it really hits you with all of its force. So I’m not exactly looking forward into finding out I’m a “little late” when I finally awaken to my need for medical help.
But hey, this isn’t so bad, right? After all you live in a country with a tremendous healthcare, don’t you? Well, yes, but that’s not all. Remember when I said the heightened liver values weren’t my fault? At some point it was decided that since so many people had problems with their liver (it’s killing me, not remembering what it is that they are measuring from the liver) the limit between healthy and unhealthy should be raised. Just like that, people were written officially healthy and have not received treatment for their woes. So now central-healthcare-whatever (I sure as hell hope this is only a national problem) has had to suck it up and the bar/limit has been decreased to where it should be, it turns out I have actually had heightened values for a number of years. Marvelous.
THE GOOD, AGAIN: At this moment neither of these woes are really bothering me, which is to say that I didn’t write this post to get sympathy or back rubs or any of that stuff. I wrote this because the world was out there, it tried to get me and I kicked it’s ass – The Beargod, An Inspirational Tale. ©
And I did get my tickets for next year’s Steelfest already; the line-up has a few pretty exciting names.
THE BAD, AGAIN: Relentlessly looking for a new job, this is frustrating. You might even say it feels like an exercise in futility.
THE UGLY: Imagine the foulest reek you have had the displeasure of smelling. Now multiply it by 200, as in being emitted simultaneously by 200 mostly shit-faced, hairy guys. Crowded, shoulder-to-shoulder in a small room – a splash of booze and the gentle caress of urine offer the finishing touch to this congregation of long-haired punks, who didn’t get a haircut. That pretty much sums up how I expect the Taake gig to turn out. I know it ain’t until next week, but I don’t plan on flushing then and I’ve missed Taake quite a few times – which is to say I’m finding myself somewhat excited about this.
That’s all folks. Try to have yourselves a good weekend, won’t you?