So…the surgery. Mom and I drove to St. Petersburg on Monday afternooon – Labor Day – to stay in a hotel overnight. I was supposed to report in for surgery at 8am.

I was a nervous wreck, having never had surgery before. Well, I did have my tonsils out when I was 3, as well as a hernia. And there was my vasectomy, but I was awake for that.

Mom brought wine, which was great for her, but I wasn’t allowed to have any alcohol the night before surgery. So we settled down after dinner to watch some Antiques Roadshow, while I tinkered around on Twitter and Facebook, a la iPhone. Nothing more for me to eat, since I wasn’t to have anything by mouth after midnight.

I took a shower, complete with special antiseptic soap. No deodorant allowed.

Finally laid down to try and sleep around 11:20, right after the weather report on the news. I tossed and turned for a while…well, not really, I can only sleep on my back these days. But MENTALLY, I tossed and turned. At some point, I got to sleep.

6:00 came quickly. I got up to pee, knowing they were going to require more urine from me when I got to the hospital. I don’t know why. Had a cigarette, even though I wasn’t supposed to smoke the day of surgery.

We packed up and left the hotel at 7:00, turned in the keys, and drove to the V.A. hospital. I showed Mom where the pharmacy was (since she’d likely be picking up my pain pills later), where the coffee bar was (so she could get some coffee), and we made our way to the main elevators to head up to the 3rd floor.

Got to the ASU (Ambulatory Surgery Unit) and checked in. That’s when they told me. “I just tried to call you,” said the nurse. (I had turned off my phone after entering the hospital.) “Your doctor called in sick. Your surgery is canceled.” WHAT?!

She gave me a business card with the extensions written on it and said to call in a few days to reschedule the surgery. We went all that way for NOTHING.

So back we went, the way we came in, and we drove to a Bob Evans for breakfast. I was pissed, disappointed, but hey, if you’re sick, you’re sick, right? We ate, and I had some much-needed coffee.

We’re halfway home when the phone rings. It’s the V.A., and the doctor tells me they can squeeze me into surgery. “Well, I’m halfway home and have already eaten breakfast,” I said. FML.

I call the next day to reschedule and they tell me my doctor isn’t coming back. “What? Is he OK?”

“Not really.” But she doesn’t elaborate. “Let us discuss what we’re going to do and I’ll call you back.”

A while later, she calls me back and says another surgeon is willing to do the surgery, but I have to meet with him first. So I’m scheduled to meet with him Wednesday, and we’ll schedule the surgery from there.

And that’s where things stand. Argh.

--- Thanks for reading! SecondHand Tryptophan

That’s my stack of appointments for tomorrow, which start at 8:30 AM and end after 1:30 PM. SIX of them, all pre-op appointments including labs, EKG, and x-rays. I’m not even sure what some of them are, to be honest. One includes “teaching” of some sort. I’m just hoping I can navigate around the hospital fast enough to make them all on time.

I’ll be driving over to Tampa in a little while and staying in a hotel overnight. Otherwise, I’d have to leave here around 5:30 in the morning and I’m not having any of that. My sleep suffers enough as it is.

Countdown to surgery: 16 days. Ugh.

--- Thanks for reading! SecondHand Tryptophan

So a while back, I mentioned that I have a new writing gig. Well, it’s officially launched and you can now find me over at “Insert Eyeroll,” a satire site.

So far, I’ve written a story about Weird Al Yankovic running for President, and Octomom being announced as the next Bachelorette. Go, check them out. And hey, I’d appreciate you Stumbling and Digging the stories if you have a few spare moments, thanks in advance.

I’m really jazzed about the new site. There are some really good writers there.

Saw a couple of movies recently. “Captain America” rocked, I thought. They did a great job with it. They did a good job with the origin story. Lots of action and cool shield-throwing from Cap. And I saw it in 2D. Given the option, I’ll probably always see movies in 2D. It’s usually not worth the extra scratch to see it in 3D. WORTH: Full price.

Also saw “Cowboys & Aliens,” which I enjoyed, despite being fairly short on plot. I just went into it with lower expectations and liked it. Daniel Craig was made for westerns, I think, and plays quite the badass. It would have made for a good straight western, without the science fiction thrown in, but so be it. The CGI aliens show through at times – probably why they’re mostly relegated to the darkness – but if you’re looking for a good popcorn blockbuster kind of movie, I think you’ll have a good time. The title says it all. It’s us vs. them. WORTH: matinee price.

--- Thanks for reading! SecondHand Tryptophan

Holy hell, that’s a lot of pre-op appointments! I got this list yesterday and it includes fasting labs (gonna have to bring a snack), EKG, x-rays, and some other pre-op stuff I’m not sure about. I’ll be at the hospital most of the day. And with the first appointment at 8:30 in the morning, I’d have to leave the house no later than 6:00.

A visit with the Matrix Therapist yesterday, however, provided some promising news. Apparently, if you have an appointment before 9:00 AM at Bay Pines (in Tampa), you can stay at La Quinta Inn and the V.A. will pay for it. That’ll make things a lot easier. Particularly on September 6th – my surgery date – when I’m supposed to report in at 6:00 AM!

I don’t qualify for travel pay, I found out, because I make “too much money” on disability. But being able to stay in a comp’d hotel room will help a lot. My Mom and I had already planned to stay in a hotel the night before surgery because – hello? – leaving the house at 3:30 AM is just insane. If I read that appointment slip correctly, my surgery isn’t until 1:00 PM. That’s gonna be  a long morning, since I’ll have to fast for surgery.

Another question I have regarding being one-handed for a while…how the hell am I supposed to wipe my ass, let alone wash my hands after going to the bathroom? Argh. Yes, I think about these things. I’m pretty fastidious about hand-washing.

I guess there’s one thing to look forward to: New Beavis and Butthead episodes. This hearkens back to the glory days of MTV. Y’know, back when they were still known for MUSIC?

--- Thanks for reading! SecondHand Tryptophan

I’m a t-shirt and cargo shorts kinda guy. Have been for quite a while. No, I’m never going to be fashionable. I’m all about the comfort and utilitarian thing.

I recently had to go clothes shopping, though, which I detest. There’s no way I’m going to be able to button my shorts with one hand post-surgery in September. So I went to Walmart (which I also detest) and Big Lots to find some cheap elastic waist-banded shorts. I thought about going with some large sizes to make getting dressed a bit easier, but they just about fell off of me. So I stuck with mediums.

Here’s a little sample of what I found. Again, I’m no fashion hound, which is evident.

Even in a medium, I’m not going to be able to load up the pockets without risking showing everyone my underwear. Oh, well. I’ll be practicing dressing with one hand a lot between now and my surgery. Now I need to find shirts. T-shirts will be too difficult to maneuver, I’m afraid. So I’m thinking of getting button-ups.

Yeah, that’s gonna make me look fantastic.

The final space shuttle, Atlantis, landed pre-dawn this morning. It’s a sad thing to see the shuttle program end. I still remember watching the very first shuttle take off when I was in grade school. One of those special occasions, where a TV was wheeled into the classroom. I’m also sad that, for the foreseeable future, we’ll be relying on Russian spacecrafts to get back and forth to the International Space Station. The U.S. has led space travel for decades…kind of feels like a huge step backward.

Is privatizing space flight the way to go? Only time will tell. But as a little boy, I used to watch the Apollo missions fly into space from my driveway. Nobody will be walking the moon again any time soon.

The NFL owners and players are still negotiating to see if there’ll be an upcoming football season. I couldn’t care less. In fact, it’d be great not to have football clogging up the airwaves.

I got Google+ and so far, so good.

It’s crisp and clean and works well. I’m not exactly sure what to do with it, and have yet to do any group video chats, but I think I like it. My only real bitch at the moment is that for many Twitter followers who add me on Google+, I don’t know their real names. Thus, I have a circle called “People I Don’t Know,” which also serves useful when a friend of a friend adds me.

Most of what I post is Public, but I like the ability to post things only to select circles.

I’m still in love with my new iPhone 4 and have become re-addicted to Uno.

It plays well and I win often. Sure, I play on Easy mode most of the time, but I like winning.

I saw the movie “Horrible Bosses.” It wasn’t horrible, but it wasn’t fantastic, either. The screenplay was meh, but the performances were good. I spent most of the movie wondering what the girl behind me looked like, since she was laughing throughout. She had a nice laugh, but I knew I couldn’t date her because the movie wasn’t that funny. What? Like you don’t ever wonder if someone is dateable or attractive from their laugh?

And in good news, I got a new writing gig. I can’t say much about it at the moment, but it’s for a soon-to-be-launched website. It’s nice to feel semi-productive again.

There…this post is all over the board, I know, but that’s what’s going on with me. How are you?

--- Thanks for reading! SecondHand Tryptophan

So the results are in. I have a torn rotator cuff, and the pamphlet they gave me – called Rotator Cuff Injuries – reminds me of Highlights magazine. Just look at that poor fellow above…he’s obviously hurting while trying to paint his house. Me? I just so happened to fall down while skating with a roller derby team nearly two years ago now…for a Birthday Dare. Yes, I blame BlondeFabulous. It was her team and her dare. Really, though, it was my fault for trying to roller skate after 25 years being without wheels on my feet.

That doctor looks remarkably like the surgeon who will be doing my surgery. We did discuss the options, after he looked over my MRI results. Sorry, BlondeFabulous, they wouldn’t give me copies of the scans so you could gloat over destroying my shoulder.

The results show that I damaged a joint in my shoulder, causing bone spurs to tear away at my rotator cuff. My options were limited. “Physical therapy,” the doctor said, “will only do you more harm at this point.” Right, scratch that option. The second option? Do nothing. “Your shoulder will only get worse as time goes by, and there’s already some muscular atrophy.” Scratch Option #2, then. My shoulder getting worse and worse for the rest of my life isn’t much of an option, as far as I’m concerned.

Option #3: open shoulder surgery, where they’ll apparently cover my face with a sheet so they don’t have to look at me. Really? Am I that hideous? He’ll shave away those bone spurs, tack my rotator cuff back to the shoulder with titanium pins, and then sew me back up. Yes, titanium! I’ll be one step closer to becoming a super cyborg!

I asked about his success rate, and he said it’s about 90-95%, which are pretty good odds. He also said he’s done well over 4,000 rotator cuff surgeries…again, numbers I like to hear. I asked what kind of recovery time we’re talking about and he couldn’t answer that. “I won’t know until I’m in there.”

I’ll be in a sling for 1-2 months, according to the doc. Ugh. I don’t look forward to being one-handed. Honestly, I know Anissa deals with this shit every day, but living with one working hand for a while is going to be rough for me. Thank God I’m left-handed and it’s the right arm that’ll be in a sling. Everything will be different, though…typing one-handed (when I’m a touch typist) will be a bitch. Eating anything that requires cutting (my Mom will get to cut up my food for me). Going to the bathroom (NOTE TO SELF: get elastic waist-banded shorts), showering…yeah. I haven’t yet figured out how I’ll masturbate with just one hand. It’s going to be some major adjustment. And forget driving. I’ll be a prisoner in my own house. Well, unless Mom drives me somewhere. At least there are the pain meds to look forward to.

Once I’m allowed to move my arm again, there’ll be the physical therapy. Probably two months’ worth, three times a week. That will be outsourced to someone here in Sebring, thank God. As I’ve said before, driving two hours each way to Tampa and back 3x a week is impossible for me.

When I asked all my questions, the doctor had me go back out for surgery scheduling. They told me they’d call me tomorrow with the surgery date. I left the V.A., pamphlet in hand, and headed to the Green Iguana for some lunch. It was a nice, cloudy kind of day – not too hot – so I sat on the deck (click to embiggify):

I enjoyed my chipotle chicken wrap and fries while watching boats sail by and pelicans fly overhead. Plus, the scavenger birds hopped about the deck, waiting for an errant piece of food to drop. I thought about my shoulder, how long I’ve lived with it like this, and read Tweets from people, commiserating with me and wishing me luck. And I wondered how far down the road the surgery would be.

Well, I got the call this morning and now I know. September 6th is the day of the surgery, just in time for my birthday (on the 18th). So I’ll be gimping along on my birthday this year. Needless to say, no birthday dares this year (either). I suppose I should rejoice, because I’ll be all the better for this in the long run, but I don’t look forward to the road ahead.

In the meantime, I’ll enjoy being able to type this post with two hands, showering, and playing Tiny Wings on my iPhone. Now, if I could just get to the damned 7th island…

--- Thanks for reading! SecondHand Tryptophan

So in two days, I go back to Bay Pines VA to see the orthopedic doctor, where I’ll get the results of last week’s MRI. I’ll find out just how fucked up my shoulder is, as well as what my options are. Surgery? Probably. The question is what kind of surgery? Totally open-shoulder or arthroscopic? And what about physical therapy? Will they allow for home therapy, or at least local therapy? How long will I be one-handed? What is the recovery time for such a surgery/injury?

So many questions, all making me more apprehensive than I really need to be, I’m sure. But hey, that’s my middle name, Apprehension.

No worries, only two more days to mull all this over, and then I’ll have answers.

I’m sick and tired of hearing about the Casey Anthony trial. I like to watch the news, whether it be on CNN or MSNBC or whatever…but this morning, every single news station (including Fox News, which I don’t really like) was covering the trial live. As if there’s no other news story to cover!

Michelle Bachman, who scares the ever-loving shit out of me – more so than even Sarah Palin ever did – announced her candidacy for President. There’s one thing, at least, that she has in common with Palin: her ability to stick her foot in her mouth. A favorite amongst Tea Partiers, I can assure you she won’t be getting my vote. Should it come down to that, I mean. Let’s hope a viable candidate pops into the arena. So far, I’m not very happy with any of the people up for grabs.

This has been a hell of a year for natural disasters…earthquakes, tsunamis, tornadoes, floods, and now wildfires, one of which threatens the biggest nuclear weapons lab we’ve got. Yeah, Casey Anthony should totally take precedence over that one. Los Alamos National Lab in New Mexico is closed for a second day, the fire is that close. The town of Los Alamos – over 12,000 people – has been evacuated.

The Supreme Court ruled that kids can buy violent video games. Free speech, and all that jazz. I say they got the ruling right. Not that I advocate kids buying violent games, but come on, let parents do their job. If we banned all violence from kids, they’d never get to see classics like Wile E. Coyote and the Road Runner. Or read “The Lord of the Flies.” Or play Cowboys and Indians. Sorry, that’s not very PC. Cowboys and Native Americans. It’s not like the video games aren’t already labeled, just like music is these days. If parents can’t control what their kids are buying, well, they’re not scoring very high in the Greatest Parents of the Year category.

Thankfully, there’s the Internet to turn to for news. Otherwise, we might never hear about protests in Greece, the ongoing nuclear threat in Japan following the tsunami, Libya, the ever-rising national debt…none of it.

I’m kinda news’d out, and that’s when I turn to either something on my DVR or music. A few of the albums I’m listening to right now:

Weird Al – Alpocalypse. I’ve been listening to Weird Al since I was 13 years old. He’s a brilliant parody writer and performer. This album is chock full of weird goodness. From the Doors’ish “Craigslist” to the parody of Lady Gaga, “Perform This Way,” you can’t go wrong if you’re looking for a big dose of silliness. Love the song “Stop Forwarding that Crap to Me,” too. Check out his Lady Gaga parody video. Fantastic.

Matt Nathanson – Modern Love. Yeah, I’m a guy with pop sensibilities, so sue me. I dug his song “Come On Get Higher” a couple years back, and “Modern Love” doesn’t disappoint. Lots of strong tracks here…Modern Love, Room @ the End of the World, and Run to name a few. This is one of my favorite new summer albums. Here’s the first single from the album: “Faster.”

And an album I first heard about from Dave at Blogography:

Matt and Kim, Sidewalks. Another great album with strong grooves. I don’t know what took me so long to download it, Dave and I share a lot of musical tastes. My favorite track is “AM/FM Sound,” but I love the whole collection of songs. Here’s their latest video, “Block After Block:”

There you have it. I’m still a tad miffed that there aren’t any Florida tour dates for The Cars, but I’m keeping my fingers crossed.

--- Thanks for reading! SecondHand Tryptophan

Well, I had the MRI and – contrary to my own beliefs – it went fine and wasn’t that big of a deal. They had me fill out a form, listing all sorts of things like whether I had any metal fragments in my eyes, pacemakers, or shrapnel anywhere in my body. No, no, and no. There were about 30 or 40 things I had to check “NO” to.

Clearly, not anatomically correct.

They had me disrobe, which is always a funny word to me unless I am actually wearing a robe. Take off my watch and ring and glasses…put them all into a locked closet. Put on a hospital gown, and then they walked me into the MRI room.

Laid on the table, put in the earplugs they gave me, locked  my right shoulder into this harness thing, and then gave me my Panic Button. The Panic Button was really more a rubber bulb that you squeeze if you can’t take it inside the chamber. Turns out I didn’t need it.

But man, was it ever loud. I’m glad they give you earplugs because it sounded like a jackhammer at times. Other times it sounded like some clanging alarm. And other times it sounded like a diesel-powered vibrator. Here’s a short video to give you some idea of the noise. Mine was louder, though.

It lasted a long time, that 20 minutes. Holding perfectly still, I kept my eyes closed most of the time because the top of that chamber was mere inches from my face. I’m not claustrophobic, but I can see why anyone suffering from claustrophobia would have difficulty in an MRI.

I wondered how long it’d take to finish the test. I wondered how long it’d take for the results to be ready. I wondered what the results would show. I wondered about the probable surgery. I wondered if they were looking at magnetic images of my enormous junk. Hey, you wonder about a lot of things when you have to lay positively still for 20 minutes and there are mutant honking noises going on all around you.

The results, it turns out, take two days, which means they probably won’t have them until Monday. I have an appointment with the orthopedist in a week. Which means another trip to Tampa and back. But at least then I’ll have some information. And I’ll be able to take my own car, instead of Mom’s. Yeah, my car is in the shop to get a switch replaced. The headlights and blinkers wouldn’t shut off, even with the key out of the ignition.

And they just called to tell me my car is ready. I’m outta here. Later.

--- Thanks for reading! SecondHand Tryptophan

I know, you’re all excited about the Casey Anthony trial and the probable announcement by Congressman Weiner that he’s gonna step down, but I have my own shit going on. Shit that doesn’t involve me sexting or Tweeting photos of my penis.

In one week, I’ll be entering an MRI unit for my first time. They screened me like I was rejoining the military. Do you have metal fragments in your eyes? Do you have a pacemaker? Stents? Infusion pumps? Are you claustrophobic? Do you believe in God?

OK, maybe not that last question, but they asked all the other ones, and more.

All so I can get inside this contraption that is going to make me FEEL claustrophobic (even though I’m not), so they can get a good look at my fucked up shoulder. The rotator cuff is torn – the orthopedist said he’s fairly certain – but we have to be sure.

According to the Matrix Therapist, who I saw yesterday, they give you headphones to wear because it’s so freaking loud with the clanging of the magnets. And there’s a magic button that, when pressed, says, “GET ME THE FUCK OUT OF HERE NOW!” She explained the process to me, which was somewhat comforting, though I’m still hoping I can bring a teddy bear or something to soothe me while I’m in the MRI. Or perhaps someone will be kind enough to rub my feet. Yeah, probably not. Nothing to be afraid about. Right?

Yet I have a lot of apprehension about the whole thing, particularly the (likely) surgery to follow. I’m allergic to pain, though the Matrix Therapist was quick to point out that I’ve been living with this pain now for a long time. I neglected the needs of my body.

MT: “Do you think you’re worth surgery?”

Um, what? I answered “yes,” but inside I’m not sure of the answer. I don’t FEEL worthy much of the time.

MT: “The post-surgery pain may be less than what you’re experiencing now.”

Me: “I’m thinking more about the physical therapy, where some sadomasochist is gonna put my poor shoulder through hell and back.”

MT: “Well, you don’t HAVE to do anything you don’t want to do.”

Me: “I do if I want to recover fully.”

Then we talked more about the physical therapy, and how I can’t possibly be expected to drive to Tampa and back three times a week for P.T. She reassured me – as she did on my blog (yes, my therapist reads my blog!) – that they could set up something local for me. “Taxing circumstances,” they call it.

Then there’s the whole gimp factor, where I’ll likely be one-handed for a while post surgery. I’m a touch typist, that’s gonna be a bitch. How will I play my beloved Tiny Wings on my iPhone, or text? One finger at a time? That’s crazy talk. But hey, I’m all about the crazy, apparently.

More topics we covered in therapy: my blog, getting out of the house, connecting with friends, and naturally, my relationship with my mother. Paging Dr. Freud.

Onto a couple of apps I recently downloaded for my iPhone that I thought I’d share with you.

Tiny Wings is my current game addiction. It’s simple, beautiful to look at, requires only one finger to play, and yet I can’t put it down. The trailer below is best at showing the gameplay.

Basically, you use the hills as jumps so you can soar through the air, collecting coins along the way, touching clouds, and island jumping. I finally was able to complete my first nest by getting to the damned fourth island. The graphics are always evolving and changing, so it always looks fresh. A few screenshots below, but it’s hard to grab shots while playing this game.

99 cents is a steal for this game. Go now…download. And curse me later for getting you hooked.

Another game I’m currently playing is Hangman RSS. It pulls in current news story headlines and makes puzzles out of them for you to solve. It’s free, but there’s a 99-cent version that’s ad-free.

You get one hint letter per puzzle, so if you get stuck, you can click it and it’ll show you one of the letters. And at the bottom of the screen, there’s a brief glimpse at the redacted news story Hangman RSS is pulling the headline from.

Since Hangman is only limited by the number of news stories out there, which is, like, infinite, there’s a lot of playability. Whenever you’re connected via wifi or 3G or whatever, Hangman pulls news stories and headlines.

The cool part is when you finish a puzzle, you can press DIG and see the actual story, clicking through to read the entire article, all within the app.

Highly recommended if you like playing Hangman. It’s a refreshing spin on the game, and you might just learn something in the process.

--- Thanks for reading! SecondHand Tryptophan

Drove to Tampa yesterday to go the main VA hospital in my area. It’s a 2-hour drive each way. I spent most of the drive there fighting traffic and listening to “Hey, That’s My Hummus!” Great podcast from a couple of friends of mine.

And so it seems I do, indeed, have a torn rotator cuff. At least, that’s how it looks. Speaking of procrastination, I injured my shoulder over 18 months ago doing a Birthday Dare. Stupid me on roller skates, for the first time in 20 years. Why did I wait so long? Because I’m an idiot. And at the time, my right hand was the most painful…I hyper-extended my fingers and sprained the hand really badly.

I go in for an MRI in a few weeks and we’ll know for sure then, but the doctor I saw yesterday says he’s pretty sure the rotator cuff is torn. He asked me to hold my arms up this way and that, and it’s clear the range of motion of my right arm is much lesser than that of my left. They took more x-rays. I was in and out of the hospital in 90 minutes, which surprised me. The VA isn’t known for its speed.

If the MRI shows a torn rotator cuff, it’s likely going to require surgery. I haven’t had any surgeries since I was 3 and my tonsils were taken out. I don’t even remember that, even with the free ice cream I got.

Yeah, I’m a bit scared, I admit it. I’m a wuss when it comes to pain, though I’ve been living with this for a while now. I guess I’ll learn to type with one hand. You know, for when my arm is in a sling. And I am a lefty, so at least there’s that. I won’t have to learn to eat with my non-dominant hand.

There are logistical issues, as well, like getting to physical therapy post surgery. I’ll have to get them to authorize something local because there’s no way I can drive to and from Tampa several times a week. Hell, I won’t be able to drive for a while, period.

I haven’t yet Googled “torn rotator cuff.” The results are likely to be overwhelming, but I’ll look it up soon. Maybe I’ll Google “stupid skating injuries,” too.

Also this week, I went to see my new shrink. Because the local Sebring VA clinic is so small, they didn’t have a local shrink for a year and a half. All my shrink appointments were via video-conference. Now they have a live person again and it was my first meeting with her.

Shrink: “So tell me about yourself and what you’re in treatment for.”

I repeat my diagnoses by rote.

Me: “PTSD, anxiety disorder, bipolar, major depression.”

S: “You’ve got a lot going on, don’t you?”

I thought, “No shit, Sherlock,” but instead just replied, “Yes.”

Then we went through my meds and how I’m not all that confident in the Abilify, which I’ve been on for a while now. She’s cutting my dose in half to see if it makes a difference. And there will be an extra Klonopin every day, too. She also mentioned adding an antidepressant to my drug cocktail, but we’ll wait for a month to see how the other changes affect me first. Between my diabetes and cholesterol and all the mental shit, I’m on quite a few different things.

She had me hold up my arms in front of me, then dangle them down to the floor, then hold up one leg at a time. Checking for involuntary movements, twitches, etc. Sure, I move my legs all the time, bouncing them up and down, but that’s more about nervous habits and anxiety. I CAN stop moving them, I just don’t. Yes, I can be frustrating to sit next to on a sofa.

S: “Have you ever attempted suicide?”

Me: “Yes.”

S: “When was that?”

Me: “1995.”

I took a bunch of pills with a glass of wine, then threw them up within two minutes, and promptly went to bed. I couldn’t go through with it, couldn’t do that to my family. It was a momentary lapse in judgment at a point in my life where I was at rock bottom.

S: “You’re not suicidal now? No thoughts of harming yourself?”

Me: “No.”

The truth is, I think about it, but would never act on it. The inner voices (no, not literal voices) tend to lead me down this deluded primrose path that says how lovely it’d be to just…vanish. Be absent of this place and all my maladies. It’s calming to me to imagine myself out of existence. Weird, I know. Morbid, maybe. But no, I’m not suicidal.

Besides, I have to see what happens next on “Fringe.” And “Doctor Who” is on tonight. Plus, tomorrow is MTV’s remake of “Teen Wolf,” which I admit I’m curious about. Then there’s the WWDC on Monday, where I hope Steve Jobs will announce the iPhone 5 (or iPhone 4S, or whatever they’re gonna call it). I need an upgrade to my iPhone 3G.

Yeah, sometimes it’s the little things that get you through the day.

--- Thanks for reading! SecondHand Tryptophan