A View From The Dark, Part 4

Todd watched eagerly as his stock began to rise, while Sarah assumed control of the television and returned to her nature special. “I wish you wouldn’t be so concerned about those stocks of yours” she said to Todd. “But honey, this could make us rich” he said back. “Isn’t that what that job of yours is for?” she asked. “That’s a loaded question and you know it” Todd said angrily. He stormed off to his office to continue examining his portfolio. As time went on, Sarah became angry with Todd. Every month it was a new excuse as to why he couldn’t start his new job. Very quickly it became apparent to Sarah that this “dream job” was just that, a dream. She confronted him “Todd, you have been in school for five years, you were supposed to have this job when you finished your diploma, what happened?” “I don’t have to justify myself to you, they just don’t have the capacity to hire me right now, that’s all. Things changed out there” Todd said defensively. “You changed Todd, you changed” Sarah said, in tears. “What about that girl at the dealership, you know, the new detailer?” Sarah said, nearly shouting. “What about her, Sarah?” Todd said, lowering his voice. “I know about you and Veronica, Todd, I know, why, Todd, why?” Sarah was sobbing outright by now. “I was stupid okay, it was just a dumb fling. There is nothing between us” Todd said, trying to calm Sarah down. “That’s too bad for you, Todd, I guess you are gonna have to find somebody else than, you two would have made a cute couple” Sarah said, as she shoved the ring into his pocket. “It’s over, Todd” she said as she began to pack her things. “Sarah, wait, I love you, really, I love you” Todd pleaded. “If you loved me, you wouldn’t be banging the detailer, if you loved me you wouldn’t have lied to me about your job, if you loved me…” Sarah couldn’t finish because of the flow of tears.

Feeling sorry for himself, Todd went to his local alehouse. “The bitch broke it off” he said. The bartender looked up at Todd, “What, the drugs wore off and she realized she was engaged to you?” he said with a wry smile. Todd slammed his empty glass down on the bar, “She, she, she just didn’t understand me, nobody does, nobody…” he said as he threw a twenty on the bar and stormed off. One of the regulars at the bar turned to the bartender, “Serves him right” he said. He was not well liked in the establishment, well, to his knowledge he was the life of the place, however to avoid the inevitable arguments, they kept their disdain for his presence quiet. The bartender turned to the man and said “ I wouldn't be too worried about him, he'll have a new woman on his arm by noon tomorrow."

Robin was sipping his green tea while reading the newspaper when the phone rang. “Robin, they want to buy us out” the voice said, “three hundred million dollars, Robin, three hundred million dollars”. Robin sent a large plume of tea across the room. “How many partners is this split between, Adrian?” he asked, trying to calculate his potential wealth. “Just us, Robin, just the two of us” the voice said. “My advices as the silent partner is to sell, Adrian, sell it, SELL THE DAMN COMPANY” Robin shouted. “The paperwork is on the way, Robin, I thought you would say that” the voice said. “Alright, call me when you need me” Robin said before hanging up. All of a sudden, he realized how much money that really was, and that it was all his, the fruit of his labour, his hard work had finally paid off.

A view from the dark, part 3

Mr. Black was an outsider in his community. Everybody knew and respected him for what he was, but he was “different”. While most people drove Mercedes or Lexus, Mr. Black preferred his mountain bike. When he needed to go longer distances, he had a small pickup truck. His boat was a small houseboat, used mainly for watching marine life and the occasional fishing trip, unlike the yachts and powerboats that dominated the area of the ocean surrounding his estate. Though his house was exceptionally ornate and extravagant, his way of living was very modest. He drank tap water, grilled hamburgers on his barbecue. He did not have a staff of cooks and cleaners, only a grounds crew that maintained the immaculately landscaped yard. He would maintain the grounds himself, but the expansiveness of the estate made it nearly impossible.

“We have faith in you, Todd” his parents said to him when he told them of his engagement. His father patted him on the back and his mother lightly hugged him. “Well, I need to get going, Merson and I are going to go play the back nine” his father said as he swept out of the room. “I’m terribly sorry, Todd, but I must be going as well, I have a tennis lesson in half an hour” his mother said. Though he only returned home on rare occasions, his parents rarely had time to sit and talk, rather they had busy social lives to attend to. Todd was used to this by now and carried on to the pub in which a mug still hangs with his name. “This is her, isn’t she a real hottie” he said to his friends, holding out a picture of Sarah in a bathing suit. “Wow” Stephen said, “I bet she’s good in bed too” Mark quipped with a slight wink. Todd chose to ignore the latter remark. “Yep, boys, I’m gonna get myself married”.

“Proud” was not the proper word to describe Todd’s feelings about his engagement, it was bordered more on the obsessive. He was accused on a few occasions of being a braggart. He often spoke of her like she was his trophy, but this was much like Todd. He was the centre of attention, the life of the party. His outgoing personality didn’t know the meaning of “personal boundaries”. He would flirt with whatever woman his heart desired, regardless of a wedding ring on her finger or a boyfriend beside her. Very seldom did anybody object to his behaviors, “Todd is Todd”. It seemed as though he could do no wrong. Todd’s obnoxiousness and arrogance did not go unnoticed. When somebody objected to his behavior, he would proceed to publicly ridicule them and dismiss them saying “They just want to be like me”.

Sarah dreamed of a spectacular wedding, seaside views, fine champagne, everything a little girl dreams of. She started planning her guest list. “Well, Lisa is my best friend, and I must invite Mandy, Charmane, Harold, oh, so many people, I wonder if Robin will show up?” She quietly daydreamed until she was interrupted by the doorbell. “Oh, hi Mandy, did you bring the magazines?” Walking quietly behind her was Ben, loaded down with a massive stack of bridal magazines. “You know, I did feel kinda, well, off, buying these dang things” Ben said. “Todd is downstairs watching the game” Sarah said, knowing that Ben had absolutely nothing to do with the goings on that were about to take place upstairs. “This one would look so good on you, it looks like it might even be able to cover that flabby ass of yours” Mandy said jokingly to Sarah, pointing out a dress in a magazine. “Thanks, hun, I’ll make sure they make the bridesmaids dresses in the most horrific colour I can find” Sarah replied sarcastically.

Robin has just put on the kettle to make his afternoon tea when a knock came at his door. “Senor, Senor, come quick, Hector has somebody he wants you to meet” said a young boy, tugging at his suede jacket. Robin had nearly forgotten about Hector in all of his affairs, “I wonder if he got me my return, or at least the five hundred back” he said to himself. “Senor Robin, I would like you to meet Charles, he is offering to buy us out” Hector said excitedly. Expecting to haggle over pennies, Robin reluctantly asked “How much?” Charles, a somewhat heavy set American said “how does half a million sound to you?” Robin was visibly surprised, “what for?” he asked, questioning the American and wondering what he had invested in to begin with. “Well, son, you see, your friend Hector here managed to find what could be the biggest copper deposit I have ever seen, and we would like to buy your stake.” Robin thought for a moment and asked whereabouts this deposit was. “Well, senor” Hector started, “you know that piece of land that Enrique sold, the one that he could not grow his crops on, it’s in there”. Much to Robin’s surprise, he had entered a partnership for copper exploration on his own land. Keeping his ownership of the land to himself, he asked the Yank “And do you have rights to the land?” “Well, Robin, is it? We have been unable to locate the owner of the property, so we are beginning to think it may be unclaimed, and that we will only have to speak to the local government to acquire them”. Robin began to think, and realized that in the title to the land, he did purchase the mineral rights to the land, fifty dollars American, Enrique thought he was the richest man in the world with fifty dollars in his pocket, he bought twice the land he had before, and good land at that. Robin invited the American back to his hut for tea.


“And right now, our financing rates are next to zero” Todd said to the couple examining the new model Minivan. “We’ll have to look at our budget” the gentleman said to Todd, “But we’ll come back and let ya know”. “You come back and see me, and I’ll make sure that we have the best deal in town” Todd said as the couple disappeared from the dealership. Todd’s current career was less than charming, selling cars part time. Sarah showed up and the two of them went out for lunch. “You know hun” she said to Todd, “I’ve been thinking about who to invite to the wedding, what do you think about having Robin as a groomsman, that is, if he’s around.” “Absolutely not” Todd replied scornfully “I don’t want to have a welfare case standing beside me, no way, no how.” Sarah began to frown, “He’s probably just sitting somewhere feeling sorry for himself, I’d rather not see him at the wedding, but if you insist, I’m sure we can send him an invite, but that’s as far as I go, and don’t expect me to be civil”. Sarah was less than pleased with Todd’s comments “You know, Todd, he was there for me through tough times, and believe it or not, I do love the guy, he’s like a brother to me, though a long lost one now” Sarah said, trying to hide the tear forming in her eye. “Fine then, we’ll invite him, but he probably won’t show up anyway” Todd said, trying to hide the anger in his voice.



Charles and Robin sat, talking over a cup of tea. “So, what do you expect this mine will be worth?” Robin asked. “Could be well over a Billion, we think we might have hit the big one here” Charles replied, in his most salesman like voice. “How much are you willing to pay for the land?” Robin asked. “Up to five million” Charles replied. Robin took a sip of tea and said “Five million, and two percent royalties”. Charles raised his brow and replied, “That’s absolutely preposterous, and I’m sure whatever local may own that land would be happy with two hundred dollars”. Robin fished in his briefcase for the title to the land, and without looking up said “Six Million, and two percent royalties”. Charles was awestruck at the sight of the deed. Robin quipped, “You can include the buyout price of the partnership in that as well.” “I will have to talk to my superiors about this, but I’m sure with some testing it will fly” Charles replied, sounding slightly worried.

After a phone call, Charles returned to see Robin, “You have a deal” he said quietly. The two finished another cup of tea. Soon thereafter, the money was wired into Robin’s account, and Robin was returning home. Buying a small house, Robin decided to make a few investments. The royalties that came in from the copper mine were at first small, but grew significantly. With reckless abandon, Robin decided to invest in more commodities. In his first month, he lost nearly a half million dollars. His luck quickly changed, his investments started coming in, ten thousand here, half million there. His wealth grew somewhat significantly, but he decided that he had enough gambling, so he financed a technology company.

A View From The Dark, Pt 2

The morning brought a beautiful sunrise. The view from the bedroom window was little short of spectacular. The beach stretched for miles, with only a few boathouses interrupting the sandy marriage of land and sea. He had spent many hours peering from this window, imagining what lay ahead of him. The sheer magnificence of the estate was often overwhelming. The ocean and mountain views were breathtaking, the scale of the estate was not immense, because many of the surrounding estates were far larger, rather it was the attention to detail that set the Black estate apart from the others. The Black estate had another distinguishing feature, unlike the rest of the estates which bore large nameplates with titles such as “Harrington, ESQ” or “Dr. Kennedy”, there was no nameplate, the only writing on the gate was a simple brass number that denoted the address.

“I can’t believe you, Robin” she said quietly as he began to dress for the day. “What if somebody heard us?” she asked with in a tone that indicated worry with a hint of mischievous intrigue. “There was only one soul here” he said. Her expression changed from worry to confusion. He walked over to her, whispered in her ear “ours”, gently kissed her and slinked into the lavatory. She could not contain her glow. Though her hair resembled something from a film noir horror library, her beauty began to radiate throughout the room.

Mr. Black was an uncommon man. A somewhat average looking man, not short, but not tall by any means. Slightly round, but not fat. He was muscular, but in a pleasant way. His intelligence set him apart from the rest. He was very outspoken, but often quiet. He spoke his mind, but always elegantly. He was a mystery. The world had lost touch with him for a number of years; it was within this time that he purchased the estate. He had purchased the estate from the widow of a very wealthy lawyer. She decided to sell after her husband passed and move to a smaller home. Mr. Black decided to rebuild most of the house to his liking, replacing columns of plaster and wood with marble, and removing pine floors in favor of more exotic hardwoods as well as marble and slate.

Sarah and Robin had known each other years before but drifted apart. In their absence from each other, they both occasionally wondered about the other. Sarah and Robin were often considered to be in different leagues. She limited her courtship to suitors who were well dressed, mysterious and most of all, well off. At the time, Robin was none of these. During the years when Sarah and Robin were close, he was frequently in financial distress, dressed in a manner that could only be described as “unique” as well as being more enigmatic than mysterious. For most of her youth, Sarah was undecided as to her path in life. She decided that she wanted to further her education, so that fall she enrolled in a university anthropology program. While examining foreign cultures, her heart was captured by a young man who brought with him the world, a promising career, the looks she desired and what she thought was the kind of personality she desired, strong and dominant. Through the years of her education she lost touch with Robin, mostly because of her enthrallment with Todd. “In Todd We Trust” was written sarcastically across the last piece of correspondence from Robin, a letter postmarked from a small village in Peru. “I’ve realized my purpose, I’m living my dream right now, alone in the Andes, nobody bothers me, I bother no one”. From that day, she had never seen him, until today.

When Todd was a child, he always had the best. His parents spared no expense in dressing him with the finest designer clothing, every new toy that he lusted for and of course, his birthday parties were always a who's who of the playground. His life was always filled with “friends”. All his life he was surrounded by people, “popular” as he liked to call it. Most of the schoolchildren called him a “stuck up little prick”, but never to his face, they liked the perks of his so called friendship. Friendship was something that he never understood. For Todd, friendship was a commodity, it was purchased by gifts, tokens for the arcade and best of all, parties at his parents house. The Holmbreck house, Todd's parents estate. Mr. Holmbreck, the bigshot lawyer, believed that in order for his son to love him, it required frequent gifts and the use of bribery to end tantrums. Todd learned from an early age, he gets what he wants.

The grand estate of Mr. Black was somewhat a social hub. He frequently hosted parties attended by all types, bankers, lawyers, doctors and a community of artists. It should be noted that even though the estate was the social hub; it had little to do with Mr. Black. He was a somewhat poor host, as he would frequently desert his guests, but they never seemed to mind, as he was rarely involved in their conversations, even when present. This was not for a lack of trying, rather it stemmed from the origins of the conversations, mainly events at the local country club. If there was something that Mr. Black enjoyed less than inserting his tongue in an electrified light socket, it was golf. This was not because he was a poor golfer, Mr. Black was quite a good golfer. He just despised the game itself. He owned two sets of golf clubs, mostly out of necessity, because on occasion a charity golf tournament would arise, or business would be discussed over the back nine.

Todd proposed to Sarah on their one year anniversary. His formality was something out of a Victorian romance. He first asked her father for her hand in marriage, and then consulted them as to the manner in which he should propose. Through the selling of some of his stocks, he procured a ring. These stocks were mostly meaningless anyway, just something his grandfather left him, besides what was he to do with stocks in some outdated oil company, “technology is on it’s way up, besides the commodity market will never heat up like this” he thought to himself as he waited for his broker. A magnificent blue diamond surrounded by white diamonds, immaculately set in platinum and gold. The ring itself took 2 months to make. From the moment they started dating, Todd had dreamed of this moment. He had returned to school, again, needing to finish some odds and ends, again, to obtain the career he had boasted about. “Only formalities, sweetheart” he said as he finished washing dishes, “I just need to fill in a few empty spots in my resume, that’s all”. With all the empty spots he had filled in his resume, it was a wonder that there was any paper showing at all.

Sarah was aglow when Todd presented the small silver box. “Of course I will, my love, of course I will” she replied, wrapping him in a warm embrace and placing a soft, passionate kiss on his lips. She could not be happier, the man of her dreams just proposed to her with the most amazing ring she had ever seen. “It even fits perfectly” she quipped, turning her finger to watch it sparkle in the light. The next day at school, she was surrounded by a large crowd of people everywhere she went. “Look what Todd just gave me” she proclaimed to the masses, as people scurried to see the small fortune wrapped around her finger. “Honey, I just called to say I love you, my fiancée” she said with extra emphasis on the “fiancée”. Her skin glowed with excitement for two weeks and the smile rarely left her face. She only stopped for a moment to think “I wonder what Robin is doing…probably just sitting feeling sorry for himself again.” She did not believe what she thought, but it made her feel better. When she returned home, Todd had planned a surprise engagement party for her.

Robin sat in his small hut on the side of a mountain in the Peruvian Andes sipping his green tea and talking business with a Peruvian businessman. “So, you think you can make it big here” Robin said to the slender gentleman. “Si, I thinks that we have a big opportunity right in our backyard” he said with a heavy Spanish accent. “How much?” asked Robin outright, he was not the sort of person to skirt this sort of issue. “Well, sir, five hundred American dollars will make you a partner” the man replied. “Five hundred bucks, eh? Well, it’s only money, I suppose, what do you expect the return to be?” Robin said in a somewhat arrogant and aloof manner. “Well, sir, if you are a partner, we will ensure that you get an equal share” the businessman said. “I don’t want an equal share, I want a good return, if you can guarantee me ten percent then I will pay you in cash right now” Robin replied, shifting his body forward, nearly leaning over the table. “It’s a deal; I will ensure that you receive at least ten percent, thank you, oh, thank you. Nobody believes that we can do this, you will not be sorry, sir, we will not disappoint you” the businessman said with great excitement. Robin passed the gentleman the money, and in return, he received a document entitling him as a partner in the venture. Robin had become a very well respected man in the village, for he was the richest man around. He spent two years working nearly to death to save; he bought a one way ticket to the Peruvian Andes and began his career as a financier.

An Update/ "A View From The Dark" Part 1

Well Hello Again,

Due to the last edition of Dinner For One touching off a few things with me, I've decided to delay writing part 3 for a while, probably just a couple of weeks, but I'll get back to it, don't worry. Instead, I've decided to serialize a Mystery/Romance Novella I've written. It's working title is "A View From The Dark". So, without further delay, here is Part 1.

A View From The Dark
Vinny Death

He appeared out of the darkness, his presence unknown to those sitting around the large wooden table. The room was dim, so the corners were enshrouded with darkness and what little light there was cast a somewhat ghastly orange glow across the table. The light was provided by a small candelabra placed neatly on the table. Shadows danced against the crimson walls, surrounded by an eerie orange glow and wrapped in darkness. His presence was not known until he had already left. The only clue as to his direction of travel was the flames of the candles, leaning slightly towards the northeast corner of the room. To say the house was vast was a great understatement. Its ornate, hand paved cobblestone driveway was nearly a mile long and was wide enough to accommodate two way traffic of even the largest of sedans. The yard was immaculately kept by a grounds crew that worked tirelessly ensuring every blade of grass pointed in the correct direction. The front facade was reminiscent of an ancient Greek palace. Solid marble columns were immaculately crafted in the Dorian style from rare Italian marble. The builder spared no expense. The interior was not decorated by art, it was adorned by masterpieces. One look at the interior and it becomes very apparent; the owner will have nothing but the best. Further travel through the house reveals a spectacular view of a cascading waterfall, fading into the ocean. The whole northeast side was privy to this view, especially the grand dining room. The room, crimson red, was decorated with gold filigree and ornately carved woodwork. The windows were immense, every pane of glass hand glazed. It was through one of these windows that he disappeared. Her eyes, first fixated on the candles, darted to the windows. She saw nothing outside the windows, only a valance dancing in a warm salty breeze.

By the time she noticed him, he was already in free fall. She was the reason for his hasty departure. His method of egress had taken him right down the waterfall. The rushing of the water, much to his delight, camouflaged the sound of his entry into the bay. The water was tepid and comfortable, perfect for a late night swim. He slipped silently into the boathouse and was relieved to find a spare set of clothes laid out on one of the yachts. After briefly admiring the miracle of technology known as a belt, he set off to complete his evening’s plans.

The other guests were unfazed by the visitor. This was mainly because they were unaware of the interruption. Attributing the movement of the candle to wind from the open window, the conversation shifted back to ice wine and the proper preparation of venison tenderloin. As the time passed, the conversations continued on about trivial matters. The air in the room was tense and the endless small talk was simply a way to avoid talking about more serious matters. Bored with the direction the conversation was going, deep sea fishing, she decided to excuse herself to the library.

From across the room, their eyes met. Locked in an uneasy embrace, silently asking “are you really there?” As she drew closer, his mind filled with the notions of all that had come before. His mind was enveloped, much like a spring rain overtakes the prairies, flooding his thoughts with questions. Her presence made him feel uneasy and as she drew near to him, his heart raced.

She first questioned his presence in the library, and then complimented him on his ability to dry quickly. His look was puzzled, “how did she know?” he asked himself silently.

Shortly after her leaving, the group moved to the antiquities room to admire the antique victrola and his rather expansive music collection. A selection from Wagner’s Lohengrin was chosen. As “Elsa’s Procession to the Cathedral” played in the background, the conversation remained shallow, mostly centered on a frivolous purchase made by the owner. The intricate marble and hardwood floors carried the melody throughout the house. Blood red Brazilian cherry wood floors were accented by borders of marble and brass. The whole house was done in marble or exotic hardwood, with the exception of the music room of course. A hand woven Persian rug was laid over acoustic tiles to create a room with acoustics only rivaled by the greatest of opera halls.

The library had fallen silent. Their eyes still locked in an embrace, silently communicating. It was much like the music carried her towards him. Her figure flowed across the floor and embraced him. Her grip was firm, as she began to lead him in a slow dance. Saying nothing, they danced. His arm fit perfectly around her waist. Her figure was angelic as it began to glide across the floor. It was much like her body was built by a team of master architects. Every curve was perfectly placed and equally dangerous. He was strong. His grip was firm, his bicep pressed firmly against her shoulder. She enjoyed this feeling. His strength of body was complimented by a powerful mind. Without speaking, she knew that he was the type of man that she desired most. His courage was balanced with caring. His strength paired with love. As the song drew to a climax, the embrace became closer, the two bodies pressed firmly against each other. “Follow Me”, she whispered into his ear as she took his hand and led him away.

By the end of the recording, the inevitable had occurred; the group had run out of petty conversation. Rather than engage in any meaningful discussion, they opted to end the evening. Emerging from the antiquities room, the group dispersed into a small convoy of luxury vehicles. As they wound their way down the driveway, little care was paid to the two figures apparent in an upstairs bedroom. There was a loud crash as the gate closed after the last vehicle had left.

Her arms wrapped his torso in a passionate embrace. She began to kiss him feverously. Wasting no time, her hands began exploring every inch of his body. Her passion was obvious from the way she touched him. Their lips were pressed together in an embrace that was only interrupted by the occasional breath. As the embrace continued, they quickly began to disrobe. It was near impossible to contain their passion within the confines of a single room. Soon the whole house echoed with the intimate encounter that was occurring in the upstairs bedroom.

Dinner For one, Part 2

Exam weekend came and went. Throughout the exam, the 300 people taking it were herded like cattle throughout the campus of Red Deer College. We would wait in one room, get taken to another, wait there, do our tests, and wait in yet another room for the marks. Thankfully we were given our practical exam marks about an hour after the practical portion of the exam, but for the written, we must wait, up to 6 weeks.

My written exam results arrived in 4 weeks. I'd wait patiently by the mailbox nearly every day, anxious to find out if I had to return to Red Deer to re-write the exam. The tension built with every passing day, and every day for 4 weeks nothing arrived. My waiting finally paid off on a sunny Wednesday morning. A large envelope from the Alberta College of Paramedics arrived. As I frantically leafed through the papers enclosed, one said “Written – 82%”. I had passed. I jumped up and down for joy, I was happier then I had been in a very long time.

By the time my results from the ACP exams came back, it was almost time for me to go back to school. The new school year was going to bring a new challenge, namely, living on my own. I'd always been rather self sufficient, but this was a big step. I was going to be living in a new place, all by myself. As much of a dream as this had been, the closer it came, the scarier it was.

I had been living there for a few weeks when I decided to have a housewarming party. My housewarming was a small gathering of friends, good food and a lot of alcohol. Everybody was happy, and slowly as the night wore on, people started to part ways. Eventually, there were only 3 of us, and that was when I did arguably the dumbest thing I'd done in my adult life.

It started innocently enough, tickling here and there (and I was young and naïve). As it progressed, there were a few chocolate easter eggs being tossed about (it was September at the time, they were leftovers). One of the parties to this exchange of chocolate artillery had to use the washroom, and thats when it hit me. Well, not really hit me, rather, landed in my lap and put her tongue halfway down my throat. Apparently somebody had taken a liking to me. As my other friend returned from the bathroom, we threw a few more eggs, and then he decided that he needed to go home. From that point on, I was left alone with her. By early morning, she had me wrapped around her finger, and I loved it.

My life carried on, with, of course, an extra addition. We were together all the time, spending most of our time in my place. It was wonderful. I was in love, I had my own place to go and nobody to answer to. I hadn't felt this happy in a very long time. I knew something had to change. I received the phone call that changed my life.

It was mid-afternoon on a Saturday when my mother called. My female companion was asleep in the bedroom, I was up watching football. “You got a surgery date” she said. I was thrilled. For years I'd lived with what was dubbed “Man-boobs”. A pair of B-Cup sized lumps of tissue on my chest. I was on a waiting list for surgery for 4 years, and finally the day came that I could have these terrible things taken off.

I had to wait until November to go to Calgary to have the surgery, but I began counting down the days. She was happy for me, I was overjoyed. This was going to be the best year I'd ever had. I'd done something with my life, I had a meaningful relationship and I was getting rid of these things. Living with them was unbearable, never taking off my shirt in public, always trying to conceal it beneath a jacket or vest. Anytime they were slightly noticeable, I wanted to curl up and die. It was all about to change, I thought, it's going to get better.

I boarded a plane on a November morning. I was on my way, soon I'd land in Calgary for the 2 days I had with my parents pre-surgery. I'd spent time visiting with my parents, talking about the days to come and mentally preparing myself. I was shaking with excitement, but apprehensive about what lie ahead. “What is it going to look like?”, “Will it hurt?”, “Will she still love me?”. The thoughts were circling through my head like vultures, until finally, the morning came.

We set out early in the morning to go to the hospital. I registered, and began my long wait. There was a room at the end of the hall, a TV, some books a few garden plants. I sat in one of the comfortable chairs there and tried to put my mind at ease. “What are you in for?”, one of the other patients asked. “Chest surgery”, I replied, thinking thoughts of being in prison. I had to stop myself from saying “Murder, you?”. We struck up an awkward conversation, discussing deep philosophical issues becomes rather difficult while wearing a hospital gown. The other patient noted that my gown was a size too small for me, and that I had just given the nurse a private chippendale show.

The nurse that I had just flashed was on her way to tell me that they were ready for me on the fifth floor. The walk to the elevators was long (and drafty). It seemed to take forever for the elevator to arrive, and even longer for it to go up two floors. Had I have not been barefoot, with my posterior poking out of a thin piece of cloth, I would have taken the stairs. Eventually the elevator did make it to the fifth floor, and I was ushered to yet another waiting area. “It won't be long” the nurse said. After fifteen minutes of terror, I was escorted by my surgeon into an office, for him to take pictures of the before, and mark my chest with that ominous blue pen. It felt like a scalpel cutting into me as he started to draw a series of lines, lines that resembled some form of battlefield.

“Well, lets get started” he said, motioning towards a hospital bed parked outside the office. A nurse helped me up onto the bed, and yet another member of the hospital staff was treated to a show courtesy of the ill-fitting gown. “Are you ready?” she asked. “Can you be ready for this sort of thing?” I replied. “Well, as long as you aren't trying to run off” she said. “I'd get arrested for indecent exposure the second I left the ward” I joked, she simply laughed and continued to push me towards the operating room.

“Are you comfortable” the anesthesiologist asked. “With any luck, I'll be asleep for the whole thing doc, so I don't think it matters much now”, I replied with a smile. He laughed and began asking me a few questions. “I see here on your file you have a very strong tolerance for medication” he said. “For the most part I require somewhere between a horse and hippopotamus sized dose for anything” I said, laughing. “Well, you will be a challenge” he said, motioning for a nurse to come and stick me with an IV line. “Are you afraid of needles?” asked the nurse, prepping my hand with rubbing alcohol. “Can't say as I am” I said, looking down at my hand. “You'll feel a pinch now” she said, sticking the needle in my hand. I had never been afraid of being poked or prodded, and I figured this would be nothing compared to the pain I'd have ahead of me.

“Your arm is going to feel a little bit funny, then you'll get a warm sensation up through your body, and then next thing you know, you'll wake up in recovery” the nurse said. I slowly started to feel it flowing through my veins. I wondered if this was what death felt like. A warmth slowly started in my arm, flowing down to my feet, then through my stomach, up towards my chest, and it stopped there. I couldn't move, but I could still talk, and I sensed something was wrong. I opened my eyes, and looked down to see what had happened, but instead of being in a post operative ward, I was looking at a number of confused nurses. “We'll have to give him another dose” the anesthesiologist said. Once again, the warmness started, but this time it went up through my chest, up my neck, and then everything went black.

When I woke up, there were alarms going somewhere beside me. I looked at the pulse oximeter (the tool used to measure blood oxygen levels) and saw that whoever was hooked up to that one was in serious trouble, they were only at 74%, when they should be at 95%+. As I started to gain my presence of mind, I realized that the machine was hooked up to me, and that I wasn't breathing. At that moment, I figured it would be a good idea to do so. As I started breathing, the numbers started coming up, and the nurse placed an oxygen tube in my nose to keep my levels normal.

I woke up again, this time in a private room with my mother by my side. “How do you feel?” she asked. “Pain” I said. This time when I woke up, I was in pure agony. “LOTS OF PAIN!!!!!!!” I said, in my loudest whisper, because that was about all I could muster. Once again, I drifted off to sleep. When I woke up again, there was the anesthesiologist standing beside me, asking me how my pain was. At first I was going to say “oh, what pain”, and then it hit me. “I'd rate it a fourteen out of ten doc”, I moaned. “I'll give you some morphine” he said, reaching for a vial in his coat. “Start him off with 10mg, and then put another 25mg in the bag, he's going to need it” he said to the nurse. As the nurse started to inject the morphine into my IV, I passed out again.

When I woke up for the third time, I saw that my morphine bag was empty, and I realized I was still in agony. The nurse in my room called to have the doctor come back to look at me, and seemed very confused when I told him that the pain was still there, and still as bad as it was before. “Well, I've got something a bit stronger for you” he said, once again reaching into his jacket. “This is called Fentanyl, it's ten times more potent then morphine, and it should help with your pain” he said to me, as he drew up a small dose. “As long as it works doc, I don't care what I get” I said. He injected the contents of the syringe into the IV line, and asked me to count backwards from twenty five. When I reached number one, he seemed very puzzled, and called for two other doctors. After a brief conference outside my room, the anesthesiologist said “We are going to give you a drug called Ketamine, it's very potent and you will probably have some hallucinations, are you okay with that?” he asked me, in a concerned tone. “If it takes the pain away, I don't care if I'm peeing blue for a week” I joked. He drew up a small dose in yet another syringe and pushed the contents into the IV. Once again he asked me to count backwards from twenty five, and this time I got to about twenty fi.....

I woke up again, in what seemed to be a different room. Little did I know how much effect these drugs would have. I began talking to the first thing that struck up a conversation with me, the lamp. Now, I talk to inanimate objects on a regular basis, but this was the first time that any of them had started talking back to me. While I was hallucinating (and quite enjoying it), my mother was in the room, quite amused with all of this. There he was, her psychology student son talking to lamps and IV poles. After a brief discussion with a chair, I drifted off to sleep again.

I woke up once again, this time with a clearer head. My chest was hurting, but it was bearable. I was queasy and a bit shaky on my feet, but the doctor determined I was okay to go home. I piled my sorry corpse into a wheelchair and made my way to the car with my mother. I needed to make a brief stop in the restroom on the ground floor to allow my stomach to have its say in the matter. After all was said, done and thrown up, I proceeded to my mothers car.

I laid on the couch for two days after surgery, feeling significant pain, and having to drain fluid from two small tubes coming from my chest. Every six hours I had to empty these small blood sacs. By day four, my right side had stopped draining fluid and I could have this strange looking device removed from my chest. In order to do so, I had to go back to the hospital to see the surgeon. He looked at both of them, said that the right side was ready to come out, but the left would need another four to five days. He took a small set of scissors and cut the stitches and said to me “You'll have to do the next one at home, so all you have to do is cut and remove the stitches, grasp the tube firmly and give it a gentle pull until all of it comes out”. As he was pulling on it, I saw more and more tubing coming out, and I began to wonder if the tip of this was the strange discomfort I'd felt in my knee. Six inches of tubing came out, and he said “there you go, leave the other side in for another four or five days, and you'll be on your way”. I thanked him, re-bandaged the incisions and went on my merry way.

The day after I saw the surgeon, I had a flight booked back to Regina from Calgary. I said goodbye to my parents, and disappeared through airport security, on my way to board the aircraft. I still wasn't feeling totally well, but I figured I was well enough to fly home, because I was beginning to miss the woman I'd been dating. She was supposed to pick me up at the airport, take me home, and take care of me.

After I got off the plane, and she helped me with my luggage, as I was not supposed to carry anything for the next two weeks, and we got into her car and we drove home. When we got inside, she said “I have a surprise for you”, and handed me a teddy bear holding a small box....

And so ends Part 2. Stay tuned for part 3.

Upcoming Events

Well, for those of you who are still reading this, hooray to you, and let me know who you are, I don't believe in tracking people without their knowledge, so leave a note and let me know who you are, and whatever else you want to say. There are 2 upcoming events that are somewhat exciting. In 5 days from now, it's my Birthday. I don't make a big deal of birthdays, but if it's acknowledged, I'm happy. The other event, which I know a few people are interested in is the release of part 2 of "Dinner For One", the serialized story that I'm working on. I'm anticipating it will be out sometime in the next week or so.

So Long For now,

Vinny Death

Til Death Do you part

You said you loved me

But I know you lied

The way your face lit up

When he was by your side

I knew you loved him

'Til death do you part

You never loved me

Deceived right from the start

Don't oh honey me

I know your game

Those devious ways

you'll always be the same

I see you so happy

It tears me apart inside

You say you don't love him

But in him you confide

You've never wanted me

Convenience was my only grace

I know you always hid it

Never say it to my face

You scheming bitch

And for why, I'll never know

I love you with all my heart

Even though you hurt me so