Friday, March 04, 2005

Day three

Not a ton to talk about today. Mostly because my fingers hurt from the "clubbing" effect they undergo from too much intake of protein and intoxicant. The death grip I use for my handshake has the tendons stretched to the point that they are dangling similarly to the way a jumprope hangs between two girls on a playground.

You must be wondering about the source of the protein. Let me say what you are thinking is disgusting.

It was another night at the Palm Restaurant last night, and the side of beef I ordered was the approximate size of an official NFL regulation football. Minus the air - it wasn't a round steak. A USDA grade A 32 ounce filet, one sprout of asparagus (simply to say I had SOME sort of nutritious vegetable) and a baked spud that looked to be only a little larger than a Mini Cooper.

I ran into several friends later and ended up going to one of the suites to hear a band. Ryan (heart-attack victim Jim's wife) took a little time away from the hospital to give Jim some rest, so I fed her some liquor and walked her around the hotel. By the way, I told Jim about the well wishes and he's doing great. He will most likely recuperate 100 percent. Ironically, the fact he's in Nashville probably saved his life, if he were home in Traverse City, he wouldn't have had a good cardiac center at his disposal and may very well have circled the drain. (official paramedic lingo from my friend Dave who is a real geek)

Day four, the final day, is now underway. If I can keep Reba from rubbing my thigh, Martina McBride out of my hotel room and the entire group Shedaisy from trying to make me forget my wedding vows, it will, I'm sure, be the piece de resistance.
PS - Jim reads this blog, which I suspect was a contributing factor for his heart attack. I just know he would feel very encouraged if you would leave a well wish by clicking the "comments" link below this entry and just saying hello. He's really making remarkable progress. And he's a good man.

7 comments:

Anonymous said...

Jim,

Some way to get out of those stupid artist "meet 'n' greets" and to avoid being cornered by som no-talent wanna' be who just happens to know that your wife runs a radio station.

Next time, try the wheelchair-hearing aid-dark sunglasses approach. Equally effective as the heart attack ploy and far less expensive.

Get home. Get well. Get back on your feet.

Russ Schell
Dayton, Ohio

Anonymous said...

Jim we're rooting for you. Get up and moving around soon.

Shane

Ken Dillon said...

Jim...I don't know ya, but I'm one of Dave's oldest friends...meaning I have known him, I'd be willing to bet, longer than a lot of you "posters" here. I could tell ya some stories!

At any rate, and friend of Dave's is a friend of mine, and heart attacks scare me to death. Here's to you feeling better.

Ken Dillon

OldHorsetailSnake said...

Jim, you asswipe. You're way too young to be flirting with Fatha Time. So cool it. I'm over 74, and still going stro...uh, gasp, wheeze....chest-clutch...bucket-kick...

(Best wishes, kid.)

Kerouaced said...

It sounds like you might have a case of the gout, which I believe ailed Ben Franklin, so you're in good company. Just don't get drunk and start messing with electricity.

Anonymous said...

I've had a heart attack and I was lucky. You are too so take what you've been given and re evaluate. Good luck and get well.

Richard
Sacramento CA

Bottle Rocket Fire Alarm said...

Get well, Jim! Don't let the country fiddlin twang your heartstrings too violently and you should be up and about very soon.