RAT my tonsils, by rob nash

[NashGay@aol.com]

(note, this is going to intimate friends, a family list, a standup comedy 
list and a theatre list)

i bled saturday night.  just got out of the hospital this morning.
two thursdays ago, the 3rd, was my tonsilectomy.
wed, on follow up, my doctor said if i bleed (while she's outta town) i need 
to go to the emergency room and have it coterized.  i feared that meant we 
start all over at zero.  i'd need a complete a new 14 days from the possible 
2nd operation before i could get my life back.  i'd have to feel just as 
awful and hungry and yet not hungry because eating hurts and the food i can 
eat is so unapetizing, in pain, hard to speak, impossible to write or do my 
taxes (but still not impossible to watch videos and talk about them on my 
listserves, oh, and attack christians-- the first reference is for my 
Velveeta Room standup comics list, the second for my RAT theatre list).  and 
i NEED to do "junior blues" and "senioritis" march 1 for the new york theatre 
workshop (rent!) so they can decide if they want to host the quadrilogy or 
not. and jeff calhoun (annie get your gun, grease) my director can decide 
where his time will go for the next few months. and i can finally make some 
money so my manager can get a return on this two year very costly investment 
(the sombitch has flown me places on his dime he believes in me so much) and 
my agents will return my calls because i'm finally making them money.
so when i bled sat, and it stopped immediately, i hoped it was just a quick 
fluke.  when i woke at 2 bleeding more profusely, nauteous and faint, i 
thought, "you fucker, you should have done what the goddamn doctor said to 
do.  (did i mention mom and dad who agreed to care for me decided to hop up 
to austin to see the grandkids since i was recovering so well, and the doctor 
didn't mention that the 10th day after a tonsilectomy is the most likely day 
for bleeding to occur?)
so i dialed 0 for the operator.  ("fuck! kindergarten lesson of call the 
operator superseeded the 20 plus years of knowing to dial 911 when i was 
about to faint, spitting up blood into a glass.  i'm going to die because 
what they teach you in kindergarten ain't worth shit 26 years later!")  
"shit, i'm sorry, i shouldda dialed 911" "i'lll connect you. what city?  
"houston, oh, wait, maybe bunker hill villiage."  "911"  "Yes I'm bleeding 
blah blah blah."  "Where are you?"  "It's not on your screen?  oh, i'm in 
bunkerhill villiage."  "i'll transfer you" he tries six times.  "dude, i'll 
hang up and call." i hung up 8 times and the line wouldnt' release.  ("fuck! 
now technology is going to kill me.")
when the cop got there the bleeding stopped.  when the ambulance got there i 
said, "i really can't afford this, can i just drive myself, since it stopped 
bleeding?"
when i got myself to he ER, the intake receptionist said their hospital (the 
one my doctor did the surgery in) wasn't in my "ppo network."  FUCK ME!!!
also, they coudln't coterize it because they couldn't find the "hole" because 
it wasn't bleeding anymore.
the doctor who took over my doctor's patience in her absence was contacted 
and said to send me home and 10 days is the most common day for the bleeding 
to start if it's going to start.  
i went home.
sunday night at 7ish it started bleeding again.  and stopped.  and again and 
stopped and again and stopped.  i went to bed.  
i woke with more bleeding which didn't stop til my dad and i got a few blocks 
from the ER.  still coudlnt' find it.  the ER said "your doctor (the one your 
doctor refered you to)" said to go to his office at 9am tomorrow.
we went home.
at seven i woke and bled and it didnt' stop. called the Dr. who "couldn't 
make it til 9."  so i went to a different ER (also not in my network, but it 
was an emergency and my new doctor had priveleges there) and bled for two 
hours til the doctor came in his jogging and work out attire and coterized 
the wound.  this was when he casually mentioned, "oh, when i get a call, i 
know it's only going to be a while before the bleedin won't stop and that's 
when we fix it."  hmm useful information to withold from me unil now.  thanks 
for not telling me that right away so i wouldn't hold on to false hope that 
it would get better and so i could wait until it wouldn't stop adn then come 
in. oh, and did i mention, thanks for getting your workout in while i bled 
for 2 hours.
when he left the nurse shot my ass with one million gallons of an antibiotic. 
 goddamn that hurt!  i'd been bleeding all weekend and it was nothing like 
this shot.  i'm allergic to just about everything including at least two 
antibiotics.  was i allergic to this?  i cried.  i'm a 32 year old man.  i 
may be a fag, but i have enough male upbringing to say that it was 16 years 
ago, i was 16, half my life ago was the last time i cried at physical pain.  
dad was there and i have a good relationship with my dad so i just decided to 
take this window and bawl about everything i needed a good cry about (note: 
many of you are intimates and it's appropriate to confide my whines to you, 
many of you i don't even know but you are on a standup list or a theatre list 
and think it's appropriate for me to tell a very honest story and i feel i've 
paid enough dues to whine just a little and who knows, maybe there's a happy 
ending)
"god it hurts.  motherfucker.  godddamn.  oh, this hurts so bad.  i'm so sick 
of this! i'm so goddamnsick of this."
"what are you sick of?"
"poverty!  i'm so sick of not paying my way and i'm so fucking talented and 
NOBODY KNOWS IT BUT ME!  i'm going to win, goddamnit."
"what do you need to win?"
"i'm going to win a bigger audience.  thousands in new york and millions when 
we make the movie will see and be transformed and healed and challenged by my 
work and the gay kids who see it will know they aren't alone.  and the 
straight kids will know they aren't alone.  and my nephews and neice will 
brag about me to their friends.  and i'll pay my own goddamn way.  i won't 
have to borrow money anymore.  i'll be a man.  but right now it fucking hurts 
more than i can say.  they didn't come!!  i take my two greatest plays... out 
of seven plays, each better than the one before it...  and i take the two 
best creations i've ever done in my life to my home town!! to the town they 
take place in and they stay away in droves, the paper doesn't come, more than 
half the email list didn't come, more than 3/4 of the hotlist of poscards-- 
people either familiar with the new venue or who saw Freshman Year Sucks! and 
Sophomore Slump just last July did not come.  they broke my heart.  they 
broke my fucking heart!  don't come because you "support the arts" come 
because i've earned your trust!  you've seen this work and you know that it 
only gets better!  why didn't you come?? how am i going to pay for this 
tonsillectomy and follow up emergency surgery??"
it was great.  god that felt good.  well, the nurse freaked out at seeing a 
grown man cry, and ordered a shot of demerol.  (which i might also be 
allergic to.)
after a brief moment of good post-crying, in a chick-like glow and after an 
initial honeymoon with the demerol, i got sweats and chills and nausea-- 
worse than the antibiodic shot.  
i threw up lots of dark brown blood.  i'd been bleeding all weekend, and your 
tummy barfs that up, clots and all.  but the nurse called my doctor saying i 
was bleeding again so they took me into the OR (i think that's the diff 
between the room he first locally coterized it and the second where they put 
me all the way under again and he went in for a 2nd coterization.)  so i 
spent the night at the hospital.  and the next "10 day danger period" happens 
right around my ny theatre workshop showcase.  if you pray, pray.  if not, 
send poz vibes or whatever you do.  i'll accept anything.

some of the morals of this story:  
1- don't let some new agey old wives tale, cocktail knowlege urban-legend 
like "don't let them take your tonsils!  god gave you tonsils and wants you 
to have tonsils!  don't let those bastard doctors who actually study anatomy 
and double blind scientific method studies for years before they can make a 
call!  trust me!  after all, i have a old wife, a cocktail and am up on all 
the new agey urban legends!"  I SHOULD HAVE RIPPED THESE BITCHES OUT A LONG 
TIME AGO, BECAUSE IT AIN'T NO URBAN LEGEND THAT HAVING TONSILS REMOVED IN 
ADULTHOOD IS MUCH MORE RISKY THAN IN YOUTH.
2- constantly ask your HMO and doctors "if were on the same page here" 
becaues chances are you aren't.  fax your questoins if they won't take your 
calls which they won't.  follow up.  put yourself in their shoes, they're 
just as over stressed and want to have a life at the same time (hopefully 
they can be persuaded to sew you up, then go work out-- hey, dr, i'm going to 
throw you schedule off, may as well, be first, then the work out, then that 
first apointment in the AM which i was going to make you late for anyway.)
3- have friends and family to cry to.  because if you cry the pain, you're 
less likely to act the pain out and you can get back to shamelessly persuing 
this goddamn fucking dream.
4- they haven't killed me or the dream yet.
5- thank you!  goodnight!

-rob nash