The Rise And Fall Of LSP Pt. II - The Drugs

One minute you're riding high and the next, sunk into the depths of misery and another statistic in this nation's burgeoning opiate crisis.

There I was, strapped into a gurney on the way to Hillcrest, Waco, after a hard fall from a Mad Arab. "75 Fentanyl," said the EMS specialist as he administered the serum into a handy IV. "Might be a bumpy ride, stay with it." Which is what I did, all the way to Hillcrest ER.

Boom, outta the gurney and into a bed in Emergency. Smooth operation, they just lifted the sheet and put me on a new bed, no need to scoot over, "Well done!" The nurses liked that and laughed, "At least you're not some overweight thug."

Next thing you know it's endless corridors, elevators, more corridors and then a room on the 5th floor, where a nurse asks "how's your pain on a scale of 1-10?" A pause, "I'd give it a sturdy 4.5." Right answer, in goes some Morphine to top off the Fentanyl.

This went on till around 2.30 am and with it the news that I'd be operated on sometime that morning. Sure enough I was.  Lying there under the lights, the surgeon gave me a choice, "You can have a General, that's what most old people do and it works. Or you can have an Epidural which'll cut out feeling from the waist down. I know, you're thinking, 'that's gonna hurt!' No it won't, because we'll give you an IV sedative so you won't even feel the needle going in."

I opted for the second path and overheard the surgeon and a nurse discussing the IV, "Yeah, Morphine, Fentanyl and some Ketamine." The IV started to kick in, the needle did its work and that was that, oblivion.

Some time later I came to, feeling good, then remembered where I was and it was time for more corridors, elevators and back to the room. Pan to scenes of "how's your pain on a scale of 1-10?", Oxycontin and Morphine at various intervals and... by Sunday everything was getting a bit hazy.

Go figure. Then Monday came 'round and it was time to go after a couple of quick and painful (8/10) physio sessions.

I was fully expecting to be prescribed a week or two's worth of Oxy and a place in the opioid epidemic, but no. I got Aspirin. Good work, sensible medicos, and I tell you, they're a good crew at Hillcrest if you've come off a horse and need a bone pinned back together. And now?

Back at the Compound on bed rest while the bone heals, and scooting about on a walker. Like an ILLUMINATI MASTER.

So there you have it. Pride, my friends, comes before a fall.

Don't do drugs,

LSP

Bishop Rayford Got Himself High.

A fierce storm has blown in from the north. Rain, mixed with hail, rattles off the house like so much wind-driven shrapnel. My dog doesn't care, he seems to find it comforting.

In the meanwhile, the Episcopal Church refuses to accept that it lost in Texas and seems set to pursue its losing strategy in the courts. 

Here's the oddly named bishop High:

“We are disappointed with this decision but quite hopeful for the future. This sacred property was built up over 170 years in this part of Texas by generations of Episcopalians for the use of The Episcopal Church so it will be available for use by generations of Episcopalians to come as they do the work of the Church."

This sacred property? Which is part of some holy trust, kept by the Episcopal Church for whom? Moloch? Bishop High, you've made one too many trips to the meth lab. 

In the meanwhile, TEC, like the old pop song, keeps coming on, even though they don't have a case. Bankrupt your opponents? Well that's one strategy. If you're High.

Carry on,

LSP