Go grab a cup of joe
Well this is a holiday pretty well guaranteed to grab girls’ attention, it’s National Coffee Day. Girl absolutely, positively, without a doubt, loves coffee! It’s an absolute necessity to her, she drinks it like coffee is an essential, like food or air.
Monster drinks a cup of coffee once a year, it upsets his stomach, and he doesn’t drink anymore for another year. Mostly, to be quite honest, Monster just likes an excuse to hold something warm in his arthritic hands from time to time.
If every coffee plant in the world suddenly died, Girl would cry and moan, and question the very reasons for existing. If the same scenario played out for Monster, he’d take a hike or read a book. No. Big. Whoop.
How bad is girl in the mornings before she’s had coffee? It’s pretty bad. Seriously, how bad is it really? Well, here’s a story.
Trixie calls girl…
One time her best girlfriend Trixie (who is also family – it’s complicated) called at a relatively early hour. Not like really early, like 5am or 6am. No, we are talking maybe 8:30 or even 9am. Monster thinks that’s a fair hour to call, afterall, most businesses are already open by that time. And really, who minds a call from family at any hour?
Well, one morning at like 9am (or maybe even 10am) Trixie calls and simply asks one question. “Has girl had her coffee yet?”
Girl replies, “I’m only half way into my first cup.”
Then, without a pause for consideration, Trixie says, “I’ll call back later.” Then she hangs up.
Trixy probably waited something like 45 minutes to an hour before calling back. Honest to God truth folks. I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again – I couldn’t make this shit up! It’s real.
java rules for girl
Don’t try to talk to girl before she’s drank her first cup of coffee.
Failing to follow this rule could result in random insults, hangups, or the absolutely infamous “non-response”. And…
It’s really best to wait until the second cup before discussing anything substantial.
Failing to follow this rule can result in any of the previous responses – random hangups, insults, non-response, as well as the classic, “Why the fuck are you trying to talk to me before I get my coffee?”
Like I said we’re being real here, this is girl 100% verbatim, word for fucking word, I really couldn’t make this shit up…
Coffee before hospital?
One fateful morning I woke up feeling odd. I started by throwing up moments after waking up. It didn’t feel like a normal upset stomach, so I began acting as though this was a abdominal migraine. I hopped into a hot shower, as that usually helps to mitigate the symptoms when I suffer from an abdominal migraine. I kept throwing up and felt like hell…
As the shower continued, I still didn’t feel quite right, it felt like my heart was racing, so I checked my pulse. It was really odd, it felt like the rhythm was completely off. The “cadence” was flat out fucked-up. My pulse slowed down to about 45 beats per minute, then it sped up to about triple that rate. Fuck! Fuck fuck! Fuck fuck fuck.
I’ve never had professional training in medicine outside of a couple of first aid courses, but I have to tell you I knew I was in serious trouble. Something was wrong, and I’m pretty sure it was a heart attack. I couldn’t catch my breath and used an asthma inhaler, then had to ask myself it that was wise? I didn’t know.
So, I have two choices, I could call an ambulance, or I could wake girl and get myself to the hospital a.s.a.p.
I hate ambulances!
Have I ever mentioned how much I hate ambulances?
They are slower than molasses in January, and ride like a covered wagon. We’d call them for Mom, and they’d be there in an instant, but after that they seemed to me to move in slow motion.
No offense meant to any first responders that are efficient, caring, quality individuals, the fuckers here always took their sweet time loading Mom, then would sit in my driveway for 10 minutes after loading her! I could have been halfway to a hospital in the time they were sitting in my driveway! And, I could load mom quicker too!
How do I know I could load her quicker? Been there, done that! Ya, that’s another one of those stories…
girl delivers – I rant
I’m sure you’ve figured out that girl took me to the hospital, that it all turned out ok, or I wouldn’t be telling the story. But, with Monsters it’s never that simple.
We drove an extra 10 miles out of the way to get to the hospital I preferred. Then, there wasn’t a cardiac doctor on call at the hospital I drove to, so they sent over the cardiac specialist from the hospital I drove around. Once again, I couldn’t make this stuff up, the sad misadventures of monsterhood.
I didn’t know the cardiac doctor, or what hospital system he was from, but he fixed me up despite my incessant murmurings about driving around a particular hospital system to avoid an emergency room I was in at least once a month, for years, with my mom.
the Monster goes on a tirade
The cardiac doctor set off a total tirade when he asked my why I had driven around his particular hospital system. I raved about how that hospital system had ended my Mother’s life prematurely when one of their hospitalists gave her a barium swallow test to establish the extent of my Mom’s swallowing disorder. The idiot filled my Mother’s lungs with barium, she made a partial recovery but died soon after. That hospital robbed me of years with my Mother, because they didn’t believe the University of Iowa Hospital’s diagnosis.
I swore that day as I was being treated for my heart attack, swore that I hated that particular hospital system. I ranted and raved until the Dr suggested I might be better off quieting down. Like I said, all of that was about the exact same hospital he came from. Sometimes the Monster drives ’em out of the park, but he hit a weak pop foul tip to the catcher on this one.
I did score a prescription for two Lorazepam every day, ya know, when it was all said and done. So there is that!
Hubris!
“Hubris,” I would say to her, “Mother, hubris!”
That was my reminder to her not to do the shit that I did that day in the emergency room the day of my heart attack. Sometimes it’s best to keep your mouth shut, but that’s hardly in a Monster’s natural nature. I do take medicines for that now, and it’s somewhat better.
I could tell more horror stories from the emergency room that day, but I think that’s enough for now. I’m still here despite the fact that my cardiac doctor came from the hospital system I drove around. Despite 4 stents. I’m here despite the fact that I had to follow up with his hospital for another 3 stents the following month. Like I said, that was the hospital that killed my Mom…
I’m here far enough after my cardiac event that my life expectation has returned to that of a normal person of my weight and demeanor. So, that’s not great, but it will be greater with some work on my part.
the Monster’s off topic again
So this wasn’t supposed to be a post about my heart attack. For the record, I had that experience on Mother’s Day, not Java Day. Perhaps this post has now lead you to ask- How bad can your husband fuck up Mother’s day? Well, we all know the answer. He could have a heart attack!
On the bright side, I only ruined Mother’s Day once, and I’ve never ruined Java day, not ever.
What have I done? My Mother’s screaming at me from the afterlife, “Hubris, Michael! Hubris…” Don’t tempt the fates for girl’s Coffee Day. She’s had three children, and she can have that many cups of coffee in before noon if she’s really feeling it.
If this is a gunfight, I’m coming unarmed, I’ve had no biological children (although I am adopting one) and no cups of coffee anywhere in sight – no ammunition. My Mom used to throw hot coffee at my Dad when they fought, but that too is another story for another time…
It’s time for me to look for cover… Off in the distance I imagine that I hear a faint, ethereal wailing… “Why the fuck are you trying to talk to me before I get my coffee?????”
So ya, enjoy that cup of coffee will ya! Happy National Coffee Day!
