Last Saturday we went to the Paul McCartney concert in Syracuse, and arrived way too early due to paranoia about getting caught-up in a Winston-Salem-style gridlock. Once the gates were finally opened, and we passed through Israeli airport-level security, we made our way to our seats. Ours were on the right side, if you’re facing the stage, pretty far down, near the floor. Great seats! But as we were heading down there, single file on the stairs, I banged my right knee off the back of one of the aluminum bleacher seats. And I don’t want to exaggerate it, but it was PERHAPS the most severe pain I’ve felt in my life. A powerful jolt of electricity rocked my abundant body, and birds and stars were circling my head. There was no quick-fade, either. I’ve stubbed my toes, like everybody else, and that also sucks a big curved one. But it usually fades fairly quickly. This was a sustained hurting.
Yes, I’m lucky to have never fallen off any ladders (mostly because I don’t climb them) or been involved in any serious car crashes or had a heart attack (yet), or anything of the sort. I seriously can’t remember anything hurting so bad as that shit did. I don’t know if it hit in just the right spot, or what. But it was extreme pain that would not leave me alone for the entire run-up to Sir Paul, which was a long, long time. Here’s the setlist, if you’re interested. The show was great fun, the knee crap… not so much. But I’m fine now, thanks for asking.
What’s the most extreme pain you’ve experienced? I know this is probably going to lead to some not-so-funny stories, but we’ll go with it anyway. Do you have anything on this subject? Tell us about it in the comments.
Toney left a little while ago for five days with Nancy in North (or is it South?) Carolina. I felt a little sad when she left. I’ll miss her. And it didn’t help that my Reds managed to blow yet another game today that they had in the palm of their hand, thanks to their “stellar” bullpen. I’m kinda depressed, if you want to know the truth. I also got a haircut a little while ago and it feels like my entire upper body is covered in those little hairlets. I think I’m going to have to take a second shower. I’m writhing in tiny hair agitation. I’m just glad I’m not one of those guys who are covered in pubes from the eyes on down. Can you imagine?
I know this one is brief. Sorry about that. And I realize it’s been way too long. I apologize for that too. But there’s more to read at the No New Jeffs Substack page, if you haven’t already. And there’s the podcast, as well. OK, there’s not much reading with a sound recording, but you know what I mean.
In case you’re wondering, before I call it a day here, the SiriusXM Lithium channel is now playing in the bunker, and I’m enjoying a Pabst tall boy on a beautiful Saturday evening. I’ve paid $13 for one of these babies at rock shows. The one I’m drinking now? About a dollar, give or take.
Have a great day, my friends. I’ll be back faster than last time, I promise.
Let us know about your tales of pain, and I’ll see you again soon.
Support the Surf Report with a monthly $4 donation at Patreon, and get an extra podcast episode every week! Or you can buy me a beer. God knows I love the beer. In Canada? Do your shopping at Amazon! Thank you, guys!
I slipped on some wet stairs at Mardi Gras and fell hard on my ass. I was wee bit intoxicated, so it didn’t hurt at the time it happened…but I couldn’t sit for weeks. It was horrible. I started thinking I had broken my tailbone.
I did break my tailbone once upon a time. Fell on my ass while rollerskating. OK, that hurt, but it was the almost 2-mile walk back to the dorm that blew. And every second of every day for a week. Can totally identify with your NOLA slipup!
I don’t like it when my wife goes out of town either. She’s my all time favorite person.
On to pain.
The night before my wedding I slept at my best man’s house on a thing he claimed was a mattress. I kept rolling around, twisting, turning, stretching trying to get comfortable and ended up absolutely wrecking my lower back.
I couldn’t sit, stand, or walk. All I could do was shuffle a bit. I had my best man take me to the ER at 5am. The only way I could get there was to kneel in the passenger seat footwell facing backwards with my elbows on the seat.
Once I got to the ED, I explained to the Doc that normally is rest at home until I could see my PCP on Monday but I had a problem in that I was getting married in a few hours.
He took pity on me, gave me morphine and an anti inflammatory and sent me off with a prescription for Vicodin and a muscle relaxer.
My family was instructed to say nothing to my wife.
I was stoned out of my mind at the alter. I was taking little naps on my feet. Luckily it was a Greek Orthodox wedding so I didn’t have to talk.
I made it through the reception and even managed a little dancing. The only clue my wife had that something was off was the fact that I declined alcohol all night. I finally told her when we left the reception.
We left for the honeymoon the next morning.
I’d hurt my back before (not quite this badly) and usually the recovery took close to a week. This time was better in a day. The combination of strong drugs and light exercise was like a miracle cure. I was a little achy, but it didn’t interfere with the honeymoon.
That ED Doc totally saved my wedding.
OK, pain. I was too dumb to know how far along in the birthing process i was the first time around, and got to the hospital (a 45-minute agonizing ride away) way too late for anesthesia to be of any benefit, they said. You’ll be having that baby in 30 minutes, they said; you’re already 7 centimeters dilated! It’ll be soon, they said.
LIARS.
3 hours of trying to push that baby out later (!) the feeble old doctor decided to try to figure out why, and hey, that baby was fu–ing STUCK SIDEWAYS and I was calling out on reality and trying to die as quietly as possible. I’ll spare you the rest of how my firstborn was finally extracted.
C-sections are way better than that ish. Baby #2 is proof.
Ouch! I used to feel guilty when I heard labor horror stories like that because, although I did both births with nothing for pain, they were short and sweet – 90 minutes from first contraction to cutting the cord each time.
I am a weight lifter so dealing with joint and muscle pain is an everyday occurrence. About 15 years ago, I was working out and had been nursing a shoulder injury for about 3 months. Therapist said it was just a tendon. I was finishing up my chest workout and had 365 pounds on the bar for a final set. I unracked it and my humerus snapped in two places. What the therapist thought was a tendon issue was really a crack in the bone. The break in two places caused my bicep and tricep to detach from the bone and my deltoid tore. The initial pain took my breath. Then shock set in. Believe it or not, my 110 pound daughter pulled the weight off of me and got me up and to the car to go to the hospital. The surgeon said I had an internal amputation and the only thing holding my arm on was tendon and blood vessels. 5 hours of surgery and a year of rehab and I was back to benching over 400 pounds with no problem. Still doing it today at 59!
Catheterization through the penis. That hurt like a motherfucker.
Diverticulitis. That goes to 11.
Worst pain for me has always been post-op.
Oh, and the only time I took ibuprofen was no fun either, but that was over after a few hours.
Jeff! Welcome back. Loved seeing an update and the possibility of an upcoming N&N story!
Ooh worst pain… A sliding cabinet door got stuck (at work) I gave it a tug and BOOM went slamming right into my thumb. I had a blood spot under my nail and my hand was blowing up. A friend of mine just burnt her hand on oil (Golden Arches days) so they told us to go to the hospital.
The doctor tells me he has to DRILL through my fingernail to release the blood. Meanwhile, Martha is in the next ER bed getting her hand bandaged like she’s a mummy.
It took 3 nurses to hold me down while they drilled and honestly, I have a pretty high tolerance level for pain.but when he hit the skin underneath it felt like I had been shot.
We were both told if there’s pain, to get Tylenol. Thank GOD my father had some sort of pain killer. I went home and probably in shock I sat on the kitchen floor and cried like a baby. Worst pain ever.
Please Jeff, a Nancy and Nostrils story would make 2022 the best year yet.
Kidney stone. Not the passing, the part where it was moving around in my kidney. Thought I was going to die.
First kidney stone attack when I was 19 at my underage girlfriend’s parents’ house at 0300 Saturday night. Set a new North American vomit record all over the house’ Ambo and front yard.
It was so long ago I was asked at the hospital whether I preferred a smoking or non-smoking room. In response I puked on the admissions counter.
Long few days and nights. But these too passed.
John
Pancreatitis. Not even close. No more need be said.
Had my foot crushed in an elevator.
That was nippy!
I was stung on the throat THRICE by an asp last year. That was serious agony.
A few years ago I stepped out of the shower and fell to the floor, soon to die, I thought. It was a kidney stone.
Toothache due to an abscess under a crown. Pain started on a Friday night which delayed treatment until Monday. It was the only time in my life I ever contemplated suicide.
The prostate biopsy that my (former) sadist urologist performed under local anesthetic ranks up there too. Imagine a shot directly into your prostate (through your ass) followed by a dozen spring loaded jabs each of which cored out a piece of prostate.
Looking forward to the next installment. Slacker.
Ape out.
I think my basket might have blown a gasket because I haven’t seen an update on the 5$ scratch game for light years. Any update on anything would be welcome. Good tidings . . .
jtb
Yes, it’s been some time. Perhaps time stood still.
It’s nice to see you, John. I’m glad you appear now and then.
In other news, I got about a dozen yellowjacket stings the other day while cutting the grass. It was only moderately painful, but it was enough to piss me off. Little fuckers.
My sympathies. Did that twenty or so years back, but with a few more stings. Pretty sure they heard me screaming the next county over.
The three weeks of itching afterwards was worse, but not as intense as the itching from the ants I encountered a couple weeks ago while weed eating. Systemic allergic reactions are no fun.
I think it’s the heat, Gianni. Who can even function these days, let alone produce updates?
Welcome to life in a dystopian novel.
You must be readin’ my mail. Wire Paladin, San Francisco, or send fresh fruit and produce to johnthebasket, Dystopia, Washington 98666.
Gianni
Clue, it’s not the heat, it’s the humility. Jeff doesn’t get paid for writing this update unless you move to Canada and buy something from Amazon through his link,|an admittedly longshot happenstance, eh? While waiting for you to pack it falls to us to entertain one another. Not, I think, an impossible dream.
with hope,
johnthebasket
I see you went for the species change operation! You look cute as a pink bear.
Canada sounds enticing, but I didn’t bother to renew my passport so I’m stuck here in the Texass heat. I’m beginning to miss green plants, and find myself longing for two feet of snow. And rain. This drought has me missing rain something fierce.
I’d entertain the troops with the one tap dance step I know, but I’m getting my other hip replaced next week so that will have to wait.
My BIL just had his second hip done and he can do everything but cross his legs so he needs to develop new dance moves and alternative forms of birth control.
Very best of luck in the hospital. You’ll be dancing before you know it.
And thanks for the kind remarks. I always enjoy your comments.
With affection,
John
I yearn for the pre-climate emergency summers of my youth when we never had oppressive heat waves. BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!
I once dated a girl who was almost a lady who wouldn’t pull down the shades unless I slipped her a fifty. Come to think about it I guess we weren’t really dating.
John
It must be time for another celebrity death poll; they’re dying like flies out there.
I always loved Paul Sorvino’s voice. Sad to see him gone.
Having my neck stitched up after someone tried to decapitate me. Hurt like fuck. A small tear came out of my right eye.