Correction

Yes, everything in the previous post happened, but as I feared, it was not in that order. What do I know? I had a 103 fever at the time and was on painkillers and sleeping aids for most of it!

Missed two shows cause I was sick. . .

Woke up a couple weeks ago on a Sunday and had a bit of a fever. Didn't think much about it. I had a church meeting that morning and my nephew's birthday party that afternoon, so I figured I'd trudge through the day. Afterwards, I wish I hadn't as my temp had reached 103 and I felt just plain horrible.

Woke up the next day with the same fever and now a pretty severe headache. Since it was Monday, it was my day to watch Carson so that Andrea could work. I figured I'd trudge through the day. Afterwards I wish I hadn't as my temp was still around 103 and I still had a bad headache.

This is where everything starts to get a little fuzzy for me. I remember going in to work on Tuesday morning for a couple hours but heading home right afterward because I felt so rough. I think it was at this point that we decided Andrea and Carson should spend a night at her folks because I was going through some pretty severe sweats and chills with the bad fever and headache and we thought I was probably contagious.

If I'm remembering right - aw forget it. I'm not remembering anything right. The whole first week was just one long day for me as I had the fever and couldn't really sleep.

One night in there, I hit 104 degrees and decided I should probably make a trip to the emergency room. They drew blood, did chest x-rays, checked for pnemonia, mono, lyme's disease, strep, and menengitis, and came up with nothing. They told me it was a bad flu and sent me home.

I think it was at this point I called Troy and told him I wouldn't make our scheduled youth rally the next night in South Dakota.

Two days later, I visited my doctor after the symptoms hadn't passed. They did more blood work, checked for everything again, and came up with nothing. I had to wait a few days to find out about hepatitis though. My white count and platelets were low, and my Billy Rubin and liver enzymes were off. They scheduled an ultrasound and more blood tests for the next week and the doctor seemed a little nervous. It was at this point, he prescribed me some medication to help me sleep as I was averaging four or less hours a night because of the fever and headaches.

I made the mistake of taking one pill. I had the most crazy, vivid dreams I've ever had. When I woke up, some of the things from my dreams were still in the room with me. As I tried to crawl out of bed to get a drink, possessions, ideas, and people began to pour out of my ears onto the bed. After about 30 seconds, I realized it was a hallucination, and it was actually sweat that was pouring off of me. I made the decision to never take those pills again. I still only got four hours sleep that night.

The next night (I think), I woke up with pretty bad pain right under the bottom of my ribs, right where the doctors had been feeling my liver, gall bladder, and spleen. I tried to ignore it for a while, but finally decided that since the doctor had been worried about those organs, I should probably go in.

I headed into the emergency room for the second time in three days around 2 a.m. maybe? They took some blood work and asked me how bad the pain was on a scale of 1 to 10.

Now, I've had bad back problems for a long time. I've had mornings where it hurt so bad, I couldn't roll out of bed. I've had days where I had to let my legs drip dry from the knees down after a shower because I couldn't bend over to dry them. I've had one or two times in my life where someone else had to tie my shoes for me. I would say my back pain has reached a 10 on several occasions. So, in all honesty, I had to tell the lady that my stomach area was only around a 5 or 6.

This is when I got my very first I.V. and shot of morphine. The pain ebbed away. I awaited the ER doctor to come in and take a look at me. He decided to push up the ultrasound to the morning, and I settled in to wait the next four hours in a hospital room.

The ultrasound showed an enlarged spleen that seemed to be causing the pain, so the doctor gave me a prescription for painkillers and sent me home.

The pain killer was interesting. I can see how people might get addicted, and not for the reasons you might be thinking. I didn't get that rush of a high like the morphine had given me. It didn't mellow me out, and make me goofy. In fact, the only really good thing it did was make me wake up for the first time in ten years with no back pain what-so-ever. I rolled out of bed that next morning and it took me about 10 seconds to realized my back pain was gone. Completely gone. And for about the next four days I remembered what it felt like to move as I pleased without shooting pain in my lower back. I went off the pills a couple days ago, and am now back to the realization of what that pain is, though.

My favorite part of the pain pills came with the instructions. I always have a morbid curiousity with any medications I recieve to see what kind of side effects are listed. This one was a doozy, and the hands down all time winner:

Possible side effects - anxiety, constipation, diarrhea (How can they list both? That's just covering your bases if you ask me.), dizziness, dry mouth, gas (with constipation and diarrhea, no kidding), headache, heartburn, increased sweating, loss of appetite, nausea, nervousness (I'm guessing any and all nervousness begins after reading listed side effects), stomach pain (THAT'S WHAT I'M TAKING THE STUPID PILLS FOR!), upset stomach, trouble sleeping, vomiting, and weakness.

But it doesn't end there. I'm supposed to call my doctor if I get any of these side effects which have been known to occur:

Bloody, black, or tarry stools; blurred vision; change in the amount of urine produced; chest pain; confusion(one of my symptoms already); dark urine; depression; fainting; fast or irregular heartbeat; fever, chills (already have fever and chills), or blistered peeling skin, seizures, severe headaches or dizziness (already have both), severe or persistent stomach pain (again, isn't this why I'm on the medication?) or nausea, sever vomiting, shortness of breath, slow or shallow breathing, stiff neck (another symptom I already have), sudden or unexplained weight gain (yeah, yeah, doctor, ever since college), swelling of hands, legs, or feet, unusual bruising or bleeding, unusual joint or muscle pain (already a symptom), vision or speech changes (I'm now speaking french in a dutch accent. Is that bad?), vomit that looks like coffee grounds, (WHAT???) yellowing of the skin or eyes, rash, or itching.

I had a Morgan Valley Social Club show that night (at least I think it was that night) at the home church in Pella, and I was really bummed that I was going to miss it. We had a ton of extra music lined up besided just me and Kyle, and I knew it was going to be a great crowd. Unfortunately, I couldn't attend, and like I feared, the show was apparently fantastic. I'm really sore that I missed that one. . .

I went in that afternoon and had some more bloodwork done. I finally got some good news. My white count, platelets, Billy Rubin, and liver enzymes were all almost back to normal. That meant that the more serious tests the doctor had mentioned, like bone marrow sampling, wouldn't have to happen.

He told me they were gonna check for the three viruses that cause mono, check my mono spots, and do the hep tests and get back to me.

They all came back negative. This meant they have no idea what went wrong in me, but the blood work was all coming back much better. I was finally diagnosed with an unknown virus that settled in my spleen and messed with my liver, gall bladder, and blood, that may or may not have caused mono, which they didn't catch if it did.

I spent another week recuperating at home as the fevers and headaches faded away, and Andrea and Carson were able to return home after spending most of the week with my folks.

After two weeks, I finally was able to return back to work (two days ago, Tuesday) with a giant pile of work on my desk.

That's all for now. If anyone actually made it through this post, you're probably suffering confusion, irritation, heachaches, and depression. If so, call me immediately and I'll give you a few of the pills I have left. Just let me know if you have constipated diarrhea that looks like coffee grounds. I'd like to see it for myself.

Jason

Refusing to Take Their Money. . .

Let's say you're a pilot. Maybe small, single engine planes. You do a lot of independant work, here and there, for whoever calls. One day a major airline phones you up and says, "We need you to fly our 747's for us."

You politely decline. You don't fly 747's.

They say, "Come on. You can do it! We'll give you this big wad of cash!"

You again politely decline. You even point out that the last time you tried to fly a plane that big, you had to make a crash landing and the plane was ruined.

They say, "Come on! We've heard good things about you! What if we add another big wad of cash to the first big wad of cash?"

This is tempting. Isn't a risky plane ride worth that much cash? But in the end, you must decline because you really shouldn't be flying that type of plane. The airline folk hang up in a huff, and you can tell you've made them mad.

Can you even imagine that scenario happening? Of course not! There isn't an employer in the world that would hire a prospective employee if that employee specifically said, "You shouldn't hire me for this. Not only am I not qualified, but the last time I tried to do this specific kind of job I messed it up royally!"

Yet, that doesn't seem to be the way it works in stand up comedy. I can't tell you the amount of times I've had to tell someone that it would probably be better if I didn't do their show.

250 elementary aged girl scouts in the wilderness for an hour? Hmm. While it sounds interesting, and your GIANT check looks nice, trust me when I say it's probably not my crowd. Five minutes of polite arguing later, and double the money turned down, and all of a sudden I'm the bad guy.

Would you hire a firefighter in inner city New York if they said, "I don't perform well any higher than a first floor house." But what if we double your salary?

I'm sorry, I can only work in your veternary clinic if I spade and neuter cats. I've never been trained to do dogs. But if we offered you enough money, wouldn't you be willing to give it a shot?

I'm a pediatrist. I'm not qualified to do open heart surgery. But we've heard such good things about you! I bet you'll do just fine.

I don't know, maybe it happens in more professions than I know.

I do my best to have something ready for every age group, gender, club, church, youth group, and gathering. But there are few key demographics that I just don't do well for. As time goes on, I try to be a little more honest with my employers about what I can and can't do, but they just don't want to hear it most of the time.

Are we that desperately short on clean, low income, midwestern, Christian speaker, poet, storytelling, comedian, youth directors in America?

For all of our sakes, I hope not.

Jason