Mr. Bartender Visits The Hospital

Last Friday, Mr. Bartender allowed his chest to play social secretary for the day and it arranged an afternoon field trip to the emergency room! Some things I learned that day:

The Quickest Way to Get to a Hospital

Scenario 1 - Clutch pounding & aching chest and walk to GW Hospital. estimated transit time - 10 min

Scenario 2 - Call the on site EMTs at work. Wait 10 minutes. EMT's arrive and ask if you want an ambulance. You say no that a friend will drive you. EMT's inform you a friend can't drive you and they have to call an ambulance for you. You wonder why they even asked if you wanted an ambulance if you had no say in the matter, but you are too sore to argue.

Wait 20 min. Firemen arrive & discuss with on site EMT's their respective weekend cookout plans. Wait 10 min. Ambulance arrives. Gurney rolls through the door. You insist you can walk, they insist you don't. Roll out of work on a gurney. Sit in ambulance while various vitals are taken. Wait 30 min. Drive to Washington Hospital Center 15 min. estimated transit time - 1 hour 20 min

Leaving Work With A Bang!

While Scenario 1 above gets you to the hospital quicker, it doesn't quite have the same flair that Scenario 2 does. Stumble out the door and walk to the hospital hardly anyone will notice ya. If you wait around as the medical personnel begin to arrive, you allow time for gossip to simmer down the hallways. By the time they're rolling you down the hallway people have heard about your impending death and can be outside to wave goodbye to your sorry ass. Bonus points for running into as many Vice Presidents as possible on the way out. I got up to three!! Oh and the embarrassment you feel...I'm guessing that'll go away in about a week or so when people stop coming by to find out what the hell happened.

Providing an Education to the Emergency Personnel of Today and Tomorrow

Another rewarding thing about riding in the Ambulance is that you get the opportunity to assist in the training of the EMTs. This is their chance to figure out the intricacies of real life that they apparently just don't teach in med school.

For example the correct location for the adhesive electrodes they put on ya for the EKG machine. All you need to do is lay there as they apply and RIIIIIP off electrodes until they get them adjusted to just the correct location. Plus you get to learn facinating information as the intructor says things like "now you'll want to place this one about an inch below the nipple, if he was a woman and her breasts were off to the side you'd want to visualize in your mind where the nipple would be".

It's also a good chance for them to practice setting up an IV drip. Now needles in my arm don't bother me all that much from a pain perspective, I just can't handle the visual of it. So I didn't watch that process but I'll relay some of the conversation I overheard:

Instructor: "wow there ain't no missing those veins....Ray Charles would be able to see those things"

Trainee: "you'll feel a slight prick"

Instructor: "good job....now just adjust the....oh no,...no....not like that...."

Trainee: "uhhhh"

Instructor: "nope now I knew that was gonna happen.......(to me) - looks like you're gonna have to get a new work shirt (back to Trainee) Now when you do that you need to apply pressure down here to prevent the blood spurting out like that. Pressure right here (presses down on my newly bloodied and sore arm)

Mr. B internal monologue: "ow"

Trainee: "here?" (presses down on my newly bloodied and sore arm)

Mr. B internal monologue: "ow"

Instructor: "yeah....here" (presses down on my newly bloodied and sore arm)

Mr. B internal monologue: "ow"


Out With The Old, In With The New

When we got to the Hospital, they decided to run some vitals of their own on me. It was apparent that the electrodes and IV drip that was hooked up in the ambulance was more out of date than the fancy stuff they have at the Hospital. So RIIIIP off came the adhesive electrodes (who needs a chest wax when you've got these bad boys!) and replaced the contraption in my arm with a brand new model. The process took a little more blood out of me, but look at that fancy contraption!!



Ain't it sexy. Totally worth laying in a small little puddle of my blood for the next couple hours. Nurses kept walking by, would see the bloodied sheets and ask if I was okay and needed someone to stop the bleeding. I assured them I was fine..

I Am, Apparently, The Gayest Thing Ever

Now as a rule of thumb, in a professional environment I may make assessments about a persons sexual orientation but don't refer to their orientation until it has been proven relevant to conversation and has been confirmed by the person in question. Now the hospital staff either doesn't follow this same rule of thumb or I am so flaming - so undeniably gay that the medical staff at the hospital had me pegged as a big ol' mo from the second they carted my ass in the door. No hinting around or questioning of my sexual orientation needed. The nurse's assistant kept asking me if Sassypants (who was kind enough to come along with me for this field trip) was my partner. The nurse declared "It's like Gay Day in here....all my patients are gay today!!!"

Hospital Visits Test Your Anorexic Abilities

This whole ordeal got started shortly after noon before I had an opportunity to eat lunch. Having a minimal breakfast that day (yogurt) it was a good opportunity to see how good I'd be at being anorexic. The verdict is I'd be AWFUL. I just love food too much and don't handle being hungry very well. I was starving when I got to the hospital and unfortunately I wasn't allowed to eat anything until after the Dr. saw me in case they needed to draw more blood (they could of course just rung out the blood from the bed sheets).... 6:30 rolled around and I finally got the thumbs up to eat. They handed me a bag with a tuna sandwich in it which was pretty awful yet tasted like the sweetest thing I've ever eaten.... If I'm ever gonna get an eating disorder I'm so choosing bulemia.

Diagnosis = Not Gonna Die

At the end of the day it turns out all is fine and healthy in my world. The chest pains were related to inflamed lung tissue and/or chest muscle that got pulled from all my hacking, sneezing and coughing a couple weeks ago when my allergies were all askew. After an echo cardiogram, EKG, cholesterol screenings, etc it's very clear my heart is in tip-top shape. Low bad cholesterol & triglycerides, high good cholesterol, strong and healthy beating heart - oh and I'm still HIV neg. So I'm taking 600 mg of ibuprofen 4 times a day for 7 days to take down the inflammation in my lungs and get me back to normal.

And all sarcasm aside, most of the people who were assisting in my care were doing a great job. The nurse was a pretty cool guy who would hide out in my room when he needed a break from his other patients. All in all things could have been MUCH worse....still I have no plans to go rushing back over ther any time soon. HUGE thanks to Sassypants for being with me through the long day which would have otherwise been intolerable. He even starved alongside me at the hospital....that's the true messure of a good friend.

some days just feel like this

Friday Randomness

"oh how i miss
substituting a conclusion to confrontation with a kiss
and oh how i miss
walking up to the edge and jumping in
like i could feel the future on your skin"

- ani difranco "firedoor"

1. Not to be outdone by the spring theme of really kick ass concerts (Neko Case, Feist, Jenny Lewis, Sarah Harmer, Beth Orton, Patty Griffin, etc) this summer is proving to be quite exciting. Just on the horizon we have KT Tunstall, Cat Power, Calexico, Aimee Mann, Fiona Apple (second row seats!), and just announced this week my girl Ani DiFranco. I'm in heaven!

2. Allergies have seriously been kicking my ass. It wouldn't be so bad if this spring was like most and I would just take copious amount of allergy drugs and live life in a dopey but breathable haze. Oh no, the drugs have helped keep me from being debilitated but I'm still a walking talking snot machine. It all just festers there in my sinuses until I excuse myself and spent 5 minutes and half a box of Kleenex blowing puddles of snot out of my nose. It's disgusting. Plus i think I'm getting a new rumor at the bar - my constant sniffing and excusing myself to go blow my nose just makes everyone think I have a coke problem. Nice... Dr. Appointment scheduled for Tuesday to see if I can switch meds to something a little more effective than my Zyrtec, Nasacort & Benadryl triple threat....

3. Speaking of the bar, things there have been slowing down a bit. I'm not sure if its due to the change in the seasons or if it's that now that some of the SE bars have shut down there's less of an excuse for people to trek over to the far side of town. Hope the later is not the case cause daddy gots bills to pay.... Fortunately despite smaller crowds, the people who are in have generally been the good tippers that help me keep on my new found path of fiscal responsibility. Yes, Mr. B had a come to Jesus moment and decided his debt has got to go. Plans are in progress to put an end to the monthly lube-free-anal-raping known as high interest.

4. Another thing that helps those slow nights is having some good quality peeps at your bar to help pass the time. This past weekend found the sexy bitches two nights in a row which allowed me to exchange smiles with my bisexual concert buddy :) Saturday, Carl and Tom swung by and I finally got the chance to officially meet Bob . It was a great way to get the night started. Although meeting Bob made me even more disappointed I never get to attend this Saturday night party. Seriously kids, if you're free this Saturday you should go so I can live vicariously through you. While you're at it have yourself a strong cocktail and a furry muscle bear for me :)

5) And finally, this week marked the first time in about two and a half years since I've seen the heart breaking ex. He walked past me as I was having dinner with friends Tuesday night. Didn't upset me as much as it unsettled me. As much as I've moved on from things, I think I just need to have a chance to say my piece to him. Last time I saw him I had a panic attack in the middle of CVS. Now I'm at a place where I really think I can say what I have to say and be fine. Maybe if nothing else, to let go of some of this anger I've been carrying around with me. I'm not talking some Jerry Springer chair throwing confrontation, just a frank talk about what he did and how it has affected me (for good as well as bad). Now the only question is will it be another two and a half years til I see him again?

There’s the Hill, and then there’s the hill…

Tonight we ring in with Cinco de Mayo. A sort of lesser St. Patrick’s/Mardi Gras where amateurs stumble around with party hats and beads, only they look like…well…Mexican, I guess.

In the wake of immigration and more “comprehensive” immigration laws, tonight is an inadvertent and coincidental nod to an issue I would know little about, were I not just looking down from the hill on to the Hill. It was this moment, in fact, that inspired me to write to the blog—a first in a long while.

I live in the heights of Columbia, just atop 13th Street near William Cardoza High School. The busy nightlife had me driving around for several minutes trying to score parking on a street that leaves me wondering what condition my car will be in come morning. I made my way up 10th or 11th Street on the other side of the high school, climbed up Clifton and came to what I still think is the most breathtaking view of Washington. There, in panorama, unimpeded by politics, museums, grassy malls, or the ideas of a National City representing a democratic nation which thinks of itself as the leader of the free world, there sits a view like no other. With the Capitol and Washington monument seated as mere backdrop, there lies a city I’ve fallen for. Metaphors would fail to describe, let alone evoke the feelings that come over not only seeing, but owning that view. Comparably, it might be something like the little boy whom none of use saw standing behind the picturesque Marilyn Monroe as her skirt lifted from a city grate on which she stood. It was that little boy who glimpsed at the real money shot—-what we all really wanted to see and didn’t know to ask for, much more, that such a request would ever be granted.

See, I told you words would fail.

It’s 11:30 pm and I’ve had a piece of ass like I’ve never had before.

Thank you DC.

Gallery...

Courtesy of Metro Weekly

"Gallery of People Mr. Bartender Will Never Sleep With"

Don't get me wrong,I support people's rights to make whatever political decisions they want. They are welcome to put their money above their morals and be Republican, but ewww what a turn-off.

A non-tipping twink has a better shot at getting laid by me than an identified Republican.

overheard at the bar....

a cringeworthy comment during the invasion of the twinks on Saturday night

"well it's like this right now, but you know soon i'll be 22 and everything will be different"


insert rolling of eyes

and boys - oh i'm sorry - "bois", it's a pretty sad state when the lesbians and straight girls are tipping more than you.