Bob is an Asshole

An old and familiar friend has come to visit. A friend I’ve had for years and I am with every day of my life. Although recently he has not been present and his absence while noticeable has not really been missed. You see, he is an utter and complete asshole who makes me miserable every waking and sometimes non-waking hours of my life. But, like a lot of relationships in life, you get used to it. The little quirks and inside jokes you share become as second nature as a person’s morning constitutional or even what one may enjoy for breakfast.

            In recent memory, the last time my friend disappeared was back in August of 2013, I don’t really remember much of him being gone but I do remember when he came back. That is to say, I remember now, I don’t think I remembered the exact moment or what transpired upon his arrival. I do believe I’ve blocked that memory from my swiss cheese like mind. But now I do. All of this because of one simple act of self survival and the foolish decision that led to the act, I am more aware of my old pal every morning I wake and throughout most of the day.

            My friends name is Bob and for most of you my dear readers he is no one new. But to some, he is so I will quickly explain what I’ve been talking about. You see, I suffer from Degenerative Disk Disease in my neck. (I literally have a pain in the neck! HA!) What this means is the disks between certain vertebrae are deteriorating causing the bones to rub together and pinch nerves causing the rare and wonderful “Bi-lateral” tingling and numbing of my arms, hands and fingers. Not to mention what goes on in the other parts of my body due to this extremely irritating condition.

            What occurred last August is once occurring this February, which is to say, I went to my doctor and got my pain meds. Little white pills of the strongest nature. Pills that not only one is not allowed to operate machinery with but also make one feel quite… loopy and numbly, and the only reason I went is because the pain was getting so bad that I was having trouble with everything. Aside from the posted side effects of these miraculous tablets I am soon learned of another side effect I was not quite aware of, that is to say, an effect I had completely and utterly forgotten about.

            The pain. Yes, the reason I got the pills was to reduce the pain but when the affects wear off… the pain I had been living with, been used to, my old pal and chum, my constant companion, well, he was pissed and he let me know it in no uncertain terms. So what did I do? Simple, I took more to get rid of the son of a bitch. And guess what happened when those wore off? Yup, BOB was back and madder than a bag full of cats.

            Now I’m in a quandary. Do I stop taking them and become used to my pal once again, so used to him that most of the time I ignore what is going on inside of me? Or, do I succumb to the blissful feeling of a life filled with taking high grade pharmaceuticals at a discount price? (I have insurance.) Although, there is a third option, I suppose I could just shelf the opaque orange bottle with the warning stickers on it and only take them when I am in dire need, but then I open myself up to the wonderful world of waking up at two-thirty in the morning with stiff joints, numb arms and tingling fingers. Wake up in fear of rolling over and breaking my arms and staring at my radius and ulna as the protrude from my flesh and my bodily fluids slowly leak out onto the bed covers and drip to the wooden floors below. (Yes, this is a viable fear to me. One that keeps me awake at night.) I guess there is the fourth option, which is to let the surgeons have their way with me. Cut me open, scrape and claw at my flesh and bone, then use some magical wand to make my three discs one disc, then sew my body back up and hopefully leave nothing inside of me. Nah, I’m trying to put that option off until the week before I die. I’m not a fan of being cut on. It’s happened in the past, I didn’t like it then and I don’t like the thought of it now.

            In conclusion… Bob is an asshole and I don’t like him and don’t want him around but the alternative is more distasteful to me than being water boarded. So for now I’ll occasionally partake of the drugs my doctor readily gives me and hope that Doctor McCoy from the USS Enterprise (NCC-1701) will eventually show up, slip me a blue pill or better yet wave a salt shaker across my body paying particular attention to my neck area and I will be as good as new.

            Have a great week.