The Sober Life

So the sober life is pretty much the worst thing in the world. It all began with a staph infection that was misdiagnosed twice by a couple of moron's at the UM hospital ER. They told me that I had the flu and a pulled groin. Unable to walk the next day without assistance and having a fever of 104 for the 3rd consecutive day, I went back to the hospital where they told me I had a hernia and the flu. They sent me home with a big bottle of pain killers and told me to wait for the surgery team to call me to set up my hernia surgery. In reality they told me to go home and die in my bed, because that is exactly what would have happened without divine (Ross Drath) intervention. Ross drove me to Grand Rapids so that I could see a doctor for my hernia surgery that day rather than waiting two weeks to see the doctor in Ann Arbor. It took the doctor about 45 seconds to inform me that I did not have a hernia and that I should go to the emergency room and get a cat scan. What the cat scan discovered were two massive abscesses filled with staph bacteria. Without medical intervention I had roughly 3 to 4 days to live. Thanks a lot UM. So After an 8 day hospital stay , a couple surgery type deals, and a miserable time I got released with an IV stuck in my arm pumping me full of antibiotics for the next 3 weeks. Fuck my life.

The only advantage of this new found sober state is that I am able to chronicle the hilarity of others. For example, last night I received a text message from my dearest bricky bear at 11:20pm stating, "And a jay z song was on!" I don't know whether to be proud or embarrassed that I immediately recognized it as a line from the song Party in the U.S.A. by Miley Cyrus. He immediately followed that text message up by informing me that, "This aint a nashville party." Truer words have never been spoken. Brick and I also conversed at 4am when he informed me that he was in a house watching South Park, snorting adderall and was not positive whose house it was. It was a beautiful night.

Also in current news, I just received this gem of a text message from my sweet Gina after apparently taking my advice from last night and consuming an Extreme Danger Dane from Charlies. "I biologie i cant still jl I'm so drunk. You're aperone :-)" I do not have any idea what that means, but texts like this are what happens when you consume a large class full of nothing but four different kinds of Stoli.