DISCLAIMER: THIS WHOLE THING WAS WRITTEN SPEECH TO TEXT. YOU WILL KNOW WHY SOON ENOUGH. SO PARDON IF A LOT OF TYPOS. I DID ACTUALLY REREAD THROUGH THIS ONE.

Well it’s been a week. 

We had the long weekend last weekend. We had off on Friday in the control room (Thank you Barstool Sports) and all was looking hunky dory. On Saturday night I watched the Boston Celtics force game seven in a game that nearly took my life, and on Sunday I ate enough barbecue pork ribs for my heart’s content, and possibly my life’s content. I knew I had to work on Monday for the do-or-die ending of the Celtic/Miami series, but hell that’s fine. I am very, very happy to work a Boston Celtics playoff game stream. You don’t have to tell me twice.

Well Monday night kind of turned into a wash. The Boston Celtics didn’t really show up, and Jayson Tatum getting hurt on the first play of the game definitely doesn’t help their cause. There are some added technical audibles thrown into Monday’s stream which we were able to figure out on the fly, but because the game was such a blowout, we did not use these new technical abilities. But that’s okay, it was a learning moment. Genuinely, not that bad.

Regular day of work on Tuesday just lots and lots of things happening. the maintenance of everyday stuff that comes about. The phone system in the Radio Room is going out again, and that is still a problem.  all seems fairly normal and standard until I am brought on to The YAK. They asked me about two movies that I have not seen before because I am perpetually behind on everything that I want to watch, but then KB asked me about the Taylor Swift controversy. well maybe controversy isn’t the right word. the Taylor Swift, money versus experience question. I’m not going to go into it any further, if you know you know.

Didn’t expect the Taylor Swift conversation to blow up as much as it did, relatively, so that was kind of cool to see. had some friends and family texting me and instagramming me about the clip that the YAK put out. So Tuesday keeps on rolling, and I begin talking with Corey who is producing the soap opera that is going to be Wednesday’s episode of The YAK.

I say soap opera and I mean soap opera. Turns out that this romantic dinner that Katie and Frank the Tank were having is a written out scene that involved much more elements than I anticipated. I was assigned to radio for Wednesday so I knew to at least ask the questions before Wednesday came about, and it’s a good thing I did. The script is incredibly funny, as is most things Kate does, so the anticipation/nerves start to formulate on Tuesday night.

I get in on Wednesday and start Gathering the assets for this special episode of The YAK. the slates, the TV monitors, the videos, and all the other odds and ends. I start testing the equipment, running through the sort of progressions I need to do on the TriCaster that day, and trying to point out in my head what this go-with-the-flow show was going to be like.

Turns out, no matter how much mental and physical prep you do, the yak will always win out. This Kate and Frank the Tank soap opera went off technically okay, granted there are a few things that I could have cleaned up on my end. I wish this wasn’t the first thing I thought about after the show ended, but I am the way I am. But the product on the screen that the yak viewers saw was absolutely f******* hilarious Frank and Kate worked perfectly well together, but it was Doogs also stole the f****** show from my point of view.

(Also, I am writing this blog and speak to text, which you will learn later why. I think it is f****** hilarious that Google Docs asterisks swear words. ass s*** w**** f****** b**** bastard s*** Dick cock p**** penis.)

Now if you watch The YAK, which I’m anticipating most of you reading this do not, during every show they do this thing called The Wheel. The Wheel is TJ pushing a button on a website and creating other chaos. There are options on this Wheel that are dedicated to certain normal cast members, but the most famous option is “wet”. Most of the things on the Wheel are “dry.” But there is a “wet” spot. If it lands on the “wet” spot, then the cast and crew for that day must go on a different Wheel and it is an elimination game until one person is remaining who then must get, you guessed it, wet. There is a shower located in one of the bathrooms at Barstool and that is where you go to get wet.

At the end of the soap opera I knew we had not done the Wheel. I texted TJ asking if he and his fellow Yak members were going to be back from Le Bernardens in order to join the current stream. That was the whole reason that this special Kate and Frank the take episode happened, because it was a result of the Wheel.

So I asked TJ if we could end the stream or not knowing in the back of my head that we hadn’t done the Wheel, and then TJ texted me back saying “you didn’t wheel.”

Well s***, now we got to do the Wheel.  I run in and I tell Kate, asking her actually, if we have to do the Wheel. She immediately says yes, so again we lift slate on what was supposed to be the end of the show (for the third time?) and we go about doing the Wheel.

Now TJ is watching from Le Bernardens and he texted me during this time that just put the normal YAK crew on the Wheel. I did not see this text.  I put the crew that helped out with this majestic, magnificent, marvelous, soap opera. As you can probably infer from me writing this lengthy recap about a Wheel, I was selected as the one to get wet. I emptied my pockets, walked out of the control room, and stepped into the shower. I got wet, maybe not as wet as the YAK fans would have liked, but I got wet.

So now we finally end the show and I am dripping. At this point it’s closer to the end of the work day than the start, so things are winding down. I get a change of clothes and I put my wet clothes in a bag. This bag is about to become very important.

Also I just need to may some homage to TJ here. What he does organizing the chaos of The YAK is extremely impressive. Already had a ton of respect for him, but it is even more amplified now. Alright, enough brown nosing.

So I leave work and progress on my normal evening routine. a walk to Grand Central, a train ride back to East Norwalk, and then biking home from the train station. nothing out of the ordinary possible right? going to be easy peasy, right?

I get off the train and go to my bike. I unlocked it. I strapped my backpack on tight and I put my bag of clothes, wet clothes, on the handlebar. Now it is important to note that I put this bag lodged underneath the handbrake of my front tire. I tried to ensure that this thing was as secure as possible. I had to put it on my handlebar because I could not fit the wet clothes in my backpack and there was no other way to do it. I had done this with other bags before, this wouldn’t be a problem at all.

It turned out to be a big problem.

My bag gets caught in the front wheel and I fly through the air like a cartoon character, head over handlebars. My body is flung into the air as if it’s Scooby-Doo running away from a monster. I remember the split second I was in the air and could see the ground, and after that don’t remember much else. A random individual came up and asked me how I was doing and if I was okay, which I appreciated. I got up adrenaline pumping and didn’t see any bones protruding from my body, so I said that I was all good.

 Another record scratch. I was not all good.

After I re-situate my bike so it is able to get me home, and after I re-secure the bag in a more secure area to ensure this doesn’t happen again, I enter my front door and I realize that I can’t really move my left arm. It is painful, but not unbearable. I hop in the shower and begin testing it moving it up down left right and it’s really not wanting to move. at all. But again it doesn’t hurt that much yet, “yet” being the preemptive word.

As the evening progresses and an hour goes by, the pain starts getting worse. This is where I’m thankful that I have some siblings in the medical field. I called my sister Martha and explained what happened. she immediately asked if I could bend my arm down as in just down on a fulcrum. I explained that I cannot and she immediately says “Oh no, that means it might be broken.”

What the f***. I was not expecting that. not exactly the words that you want to hear.  I asked her what I should do, and she said “you should sleep on it” (well not literally on it)  and wait to see how it feels in the morning, but she definitely recommended getting an x-ray. I booked an x-ray on Wednesday night for Thursday morning just as a preemptive measure at the nearest Urgent Care. It’s a good thing I did, because I woke up Thursday morning and I could not move my arm an inch. My elbow was the size of a softball and I could not move my arm up down left right or twist it in any direction whatsoever. I knew that it was bad.

As I am hobbling around in the morning Emma is getting ready for work, and I’m getting ready for mental warfare. I’m not good with medical stuff, I’ll be the first to admit it. Unfortunately I’ve had a few runs with things that have led to some not pleasant hospital experiences. Does anyone remember when I had cellulitis? That was a great time.

So I walked into the Urgent Care on Thursday morning, and I must have looked like a homeless person.  I was in the clothes that I slept in because it was too painful for me to remove any clothing. I literally couldn’t move my arm, and couldn’t remove my clothes Because every movement sent off a sting that felt like I was being zapped with an electric fly swatter. I walked in and thankfully I was taking it immediately. I explain what happened, And then they took a look.

You know when you can just tell something’s bad from the doctor’s face? That was one of these kinds of moments. They awkwardly help me get my shirt off as I’m cursing f*** underneath my breath, and then give me a gown. They lead me to the X-ray room where they proceed to do medieval torture on me while getting images of my whole entire arm. my shoulder. my elbow. and my forearm. That’s a lot of x-rays folks, and that’s a lot of x-rays in really uncomfortable positions for somebody who doesn’t want their arm moved at all. I felt like I was William Wallace being stretched out and all I wanted to do was reach my version of freedom.

So after I regather myself from being disemboweled on the X-ray platform, they put me in a splint and they make sure that I get an appointment at the local Orthopedics doctor’s office. Because I went so early in the day to get an x-ray I was able to get an appointment in the afternoon. Huge.

The doctor at the Urgent Care walks into the room after I’m off splinted up and says that I have a radial neck fracture. what the f*** is that? Well that’s what I’m thinking in my head. The short answer is that my elbow is broken. this is what the doctor thinks, but the x-rays are really tough to see because it’s so swollen. Regardless, I knew it was bad, but I don’t know how bad a radial neck fracture is. I could have looked it up right away, but I’m too scared to suck myself out for what this potentially means.

The doc hands me the x-rays, makes sure I’m good to go, An escorts me out the door to my car.

At this point now it’s about 10:00 and I have to go home and kill about 3 and 1/2 hours before I can go to the Orthopedics office. I sit down on the couch  and watch about two and a half movies before I eventually gather myself and all my things to head to get the official diagnosis.

Come around 1:30 when I leave for the Orthopedics office, I am a mirror image of a severely unhygienic, hungover, college dude.  I am wearing the same clothes that I slept in, because it was too painful to get these clothes off. That also means I haven’t showered in a while, and when I get stressed and when I’m in pain I tend to sweat, so I don’t smell great at all. I am wearing sweatpants and a long sleeve shirt, while outside it’s about 85°. I really must be a visage to look at.

So I walk into the office with a bag filled with my wallets, phone, keys, paperwork, x-rays, and a book. I say all this because it was too painful for me to reach into my pockets with all this stuff. so I had to throw it in a plastic grocery bag and walk around like that.

 I get into the office, fill out the paperwork, and I’m escorted to room one. The doctor’s assistant has a Dandy of a time getting the splint off me as I am just muttering curse words underneath my breath. I wait there a short while before the orthopedic doctor comes in and begins examining me. He tells me about the x-rays and about the radial neck fracture, and what the next steps are.

Luckily he says that the fracture is not too bad so surgery is not needed, and I let out a verbal exhale sigh of relief. He tells me that it’s usually a 4 to 6 week recovery process, but more toward the 6 weeks side. my arm has to be in a sling whenever I am moving around or doing something remotely active. The first thing that will come back in the natural healing process is the ability to move my elbow up, and down. After 2 weeks when we have a follow-up scheduled, if things are going well, I’ll be able to begin twisting my arm again. Physical therapy is on the table as an option, but not everyone needs it. It all depends on how the fracture wants to heal itself.

Now all this kind of sounds okay, in the long run. I honestly thought it’d be worse with the pain I was in, so 6 weeks in a sling isn’t going to be too, too bad. Now I’m going to go f****** stir crazy not being able to exercise really for 6 weeks. I’m also going to really not enjoy being able to be active/as productive at home or work as I would like. I mean christ, I can’t even type with how my arm is situated right now, so voice to text is going to have to be a thing for at least a while.

Now the doctor comes in and he’s explaining all this stuff, but he ends with an absolute doozy. there is an optional thing that he can do which will help relieve the pain for the next two weeks. Now I’m all about relieving this pain so I could actually, you know, move around without wanting to die only being slightly dramatic there).  but the thing that the duck has to do is drain blood that is building up in a bubble in my elbow. The majority of the pain I am feeling is because there’s absolutely no movement because basically the blood that’s been building up has created a pressure chamber where nothing can move around in.

This would explain how the only time I looked at my elbow this Thursday morning, it looked like a softball. That actually explains a lot.

So he has to give me a numbing shot on my elbow, and then insert a needle and drain blood out. Seems like an easy choice to make, But I really f****** hate needles. I get massive anxiety when needles have to be inserted into me. There was a time I had to get a cavity filled and they shot Novocaine into my mouth, and I was so anxious that I could still feel them Drilling and they had to double up the novocaine. I remember when I had to have knee surgery that the doctors had to give me more anesthesia through the little injection in my arm because I was burning through it so fast.

Now because I am a big, strong boy, I say that he can drain the blood out. I can feel myself starting to sweat, more than I already was.  The doctor’s assistant comes in  and places the three needles right in front of my eyesight for me to see, which is something that I always try to avoid whenever I have to get shots. I tell you I really don’t like when I have to get blood tests, or any shots. just not a fan.

So I turn my eyesight away from the needles and I begin staring at the wall. I just began talking to myself. I am having a conversation about, God knows what, the doctor, and the internet was following him, are talking to me explaining what’s happening, and give me a countdown for every shot that they’re applying. I really don’t need to hear this. at all. but who am I to tell the doctor to shut up when he’s the one helping me relieve the pain.

Now I admit, this whole process doesn’t last very long at all. it was maybe done in 2 minutes. but when the doc says “you’re all set”  I let out yet another big sigh of relief. Then the doc says “Wow, look how much blood I drew that’s nearly a record for an elbow.”  He then proceeds to put the needle in front of me and show me how much blood he took out.

In my head I am screaming, “Doc, you don’t need to show me that!”. The vial that the doctor was showing me was probably about as tall as your hand is extended and 2 cm wide. it was filled to the brim with the purplest of purple blood. Looked super thick and juicy. Dracula would have been drooling. It is one of those things that I never needed to see but now that I have seen it I’m going to remember it forever.  how is it that I am so squeamish with this medical stuff, and yet I have two sisters who work directly in the physical health/medical field, is beyond me.  We are not from the same gene pool.

With the majority of the trauma over, I get my sweaty ass shirt back on and the sling adjusted. I schedule my follow-up, and I head home.  I make all the necessary phone calls and text messages to everyone, updating them on my situation. 

In the grand scheme of things, I know there are people dealing with worse s*** than me.  but I cannot help but think of the craziness that has been my last three days. I had two absolutely Bonkers days at work, and Then followed it up with the worst injury I’ve had since I  tore my meniscus, and found out that I had a fractured tibia as well. The hilarious part is both of these injuries of mine happened just when the summer is about to start, so there’s nothing like not being able to do anything physical when it’s the nicest weather outside. I’m moaning to the moon, but I really wish I got more rounds of golf in this summer than I’m going to get, I’m already thinking like that. Maybe it’s not fair, but it is the way I am.

Now I’m finishing up this speak to text stream of consciousness blog on this Friday morning. I woke up this morning in discomfort, but not extreme pain. I actually can move my arm, granted it’s only a couple inches either way. What’s the rate of improvement going to be? I really don’t know, and I wish I had the answer. The whole thing about actually being injured (and not hurt)  is that it takes patience to get better. I will admit, I’m not a good patient. I like to push myself to the extreme limits of what I can do. Effort is the one thing you can control, and this freaking fractured radial neck is going to force me to do low effort things.

But you know what? it is what it is. I cannot change the past and nor can I see the future. I’m not trying to get all existential here wrapping this thing up, but I’m trying to just put myself in the moment. I can only control what I can control and make sure that this does not get any worse. For now I’ll sit here on the couch, arm in a sling, and keep on babbling away into Google docs. 

It surely has been a hell of a week, and we haven’t even hit the weekend yet. 

HERE IS THE MASTERPIECE THAT KATE AND FRANK THE TANK PUT ON

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