most sunday evenings i spend my night watching cartoon networks adult swim. laughing at family guy, but quickly turning the channel when my wife walks in as if i were watching porn (she doesn't agree with me watching such cartoons). yet tonight i sit with my bearded, hairless knuckled brother in-law in a hospital room filled with his awful farts that make me wonder if that is what death smells like. this is the second night i have spent with him. the first night i slept in the waiting room.. as of now i am hidding out in his icu room waiting for the pudding pack eating man nurse to tell me to get out (he is really scary. he is about 6 foot 5 and weighs as much a my ford focus).
as we sit and watch football, we laugh at the different things going on around us or what is coming out of danny. close to my left knee is danny's pee jug which he claimed he halfway filled, but he didn't (i am talking about his urine not filling it perv). outside of his door is the toilet he had to poop in. which causes me to remember what happened earlier today. danny had me ask the nurse about him doing number 2. she walked in with the plastic toilet that danny says makes a thud when turds hit instead of a splash that we are all used to hearing. back to the story.. so after she places the toilet in the room she proceeds to close the curtains and close the door leaving me to witness his poop. i quickly let her know i was not going to be apart of such a personal and spiritual experience. i walked out of the icu to wait for him to finish his duty. i allowed him five minutes since he didn't have anything to read. i picked up the phone outside of the icu and i asked if i could go back into danny's room..
"ummm. his light is on and the nurse is in there. you may want to wait a couple minutes."
"ok" i say as i think "more like wait about 30 minutes. i have smelled his poop and i now know that ever nurse in the icu is wishing they were working at mcdonalds."
i walk towards danny's room and this smell hits me. i knew at that moment that this was a big one and since he was hooked on oxygne that we were not able to light a match. i began to wrestle within myself.
"do i want to go in that room?"
"yes! he is your brother in-law and your friend. he needs you in this moment."
"but i don't want to smell like his crap. i mean... i hate smelling like a camp fire. how can i make it smelling like danny's crap?"
"you need to grow up....OH MY GOSH! WHAT IS THAT SMELL? BELOCH (that is the sound of me throwing up in my mouth and swallowing it)!!!!"
"told you it was going to be rough."
yet i took a deep breath and walked into his room to be the friend i needed to be. i watched the nurse quickly clean his mess and rush out the door. i believe she was holding her breath. her face was red and her smile seemed as one desperatly trying to fill their lungs with clean air.
many other things took place. as danny wondered if he could brush his teeth with sprite. he has still yet to try.. actually he has still yet to brush his teeth. he did change his underwear, but the sound he just made leads me to believe he may need to change them again.. also the sound of his toe nails rubbing the foot board to the bed tells me he hasn't clipped his toe nails in a few months. wow... i am just putting him down aren't i? lol.. i still find it funny.
don't worry.. danny knows i am saying all of these things. i would never talk ill about my loved ones in a blog without telling them.. i only do that to people i don't like.
to be honest. this whole experience makes me nervous. it has been a long weekend for danny, my friends and myself.. as most of you know we lost a close friend and if i were to be really honest with myself... i could have lost another person i really love. you see, danny's heart has an enlarged right side and it looks like he is going to have surgery. last night things became serious as he was being worked on in the er. i just thank God that he was already here when it happened.
i hate to end a blog on a sad note. so i will end it with this... my sweater smells like danny's farts.
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