The Bodacious Belgrade Blog

September 20, 2008

Countdown To Gimpdom Emancipation

Filed under: Uncategorized — bunitingi @ 3:10 pm
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Aaaaaaand, i’m back.

That was a killer deadline week. Killer. But the project was completed and i now find myself on the 3 day countdown to Emancipation From Gimpdom. The day i can finally walk unassisted. Hell, i the day i can FINALLY pour myself a cup of coffee and carry it into the other room.

I don’t know how many of you have had broken legs or feet, perhaps as kids, but as a first time caller i would just like to say that the Gimp show really sucks.

Nonetheless, there are ways to survive. Here are tips for any of you poor bastards or bastardettes who find yourself in this situation.

1. Getting your morning cup of coffee from kitchen to living room.

Assuming your pregnant wife, who has now become your personal maid-servant (okay, there is ONE part to gimpdom that is totally awesome) actually decides to leave the house in the morning to

a.) buy groceries and house stuff. Commendable. Don’t forget the milk, woman! And Beer! I KNOW you won’t forget BuniDaddy’s beer this time or else i… uhm….well…. sadly gimps are rather non threatening.

b.) go to birthing class. Who knew there were all these different types of breathing? Yes, when you give birth it’s not enough to just breathe. You have to choose whether it’s the right time for type 1 breathing, maybe it’s type 3 at this moment! I’ve tried them and they ALL make me hyperventilate and pass out

Anyway, you may find yourself forced to make your OWN cup of morning coffee. This is more difficult than it looks as you absolutely cannot carry a cup of liquid on crutches, or hopping on one leg.

a. boil water in kettle. ONLY A LITTLE!

b. Put instant coffee grounds and sugar in cup. (gotta be instant. actually, the vile swill grows on you after a while)

c. hop your cup into living room. hophophophophophophophophophophophophophop

d. hop back to kitchen. hophophophophophophophophophophophohop

e. hop kettle full of hot water into living room. This is where the Only A Little instructions are key. otherwise you wil have: hophophophophophophophOW!!!MOTHERFhophophophophophophophoph

f. hop back to kitchen.hophophophophophophophoph stupid bloody water hophophophophohophop

g. get milk out of fridge.bring to living room hophophohpohp…..

h. pour into coffee and then bring back to fridge hophopho…etc

i. enjoy lovely cup. I recommend Nescafe.

Seems fairly straightforward. but to answer the next question (“Paul, how can you make this incessantly pointless post more pointless?” No, no that question), this one:

So, Dr. Gimp, it was 1AM, i was still up and starving. My wife had made some stewy soupy goodness for dinner, but can i get THAT from the kitchen to living room so i can eat it while watching the glory that is Serbian late night TV?”

This one requires a bit more humility. You can’t hop the pot, you can’t hop the bowl. There is only one way.

a. pour soup into bowl.

b. place bowl on ground.

c. place self on ground.

d. crawl. place soup on floor in front of you. crawl past it. turn, place soup again in front. crawl. repeat entire length of hallway and living room.

Ta-dah! Let’s see, are there any other questions nobody cares about?

Tip #3: get used to crawling.

Went to party last weekend. Had awesome time. (nice one andrew!) But the apartment is on the 7th floor (6? 8? it felt that the 18th personally) and there’s NO elevator. You can hop up a stair at a time, carrying crutches, hopping up stair by stair…. it’s really bloody hard.

No, the best way, by floor 3 at least, was to simply crawl up the stairs, dragging the crutches behind. Which caused a racket. Which led to a few people opening their apartment door as i crawled my way past, slowly heading up the next flight.

They start babbling at me but of course i can’t actually understand what they’re saying. (my guess is something to the tune of “Jesus Christ! You wretched bastard! Do you… need help or anything? what the hell dude?” Only without the actual word “dude”)

It was a loooooooong 7 flights.

(hell you shouldv’e seen week 2. See, maja wouldn’t buy me cigarettes, since she read online that they slow the healing process. Which, okay, not a big leap of logic there. But they constrict blood vessels, and the leg needs to pump a lot of blood back and forth.

But i was OUT, HAD been out, and after a week or so of being immobile, not even leaving the apartment, hell, barely leaving the stupid COUCH…. i just wanted to sit on my balcony with a beer and a smoke.

So i’m stuck. So one day Maja, being all pregnant and everything, finally has one of those afternoons where she collapses in exhaustion. Nap time!

So off i go! Out the door! hophophophophophoph… down the elevator, out the front door! hophophophophophophophoph across the little park! hhophophophophoph pant pant pant hophophohpoph across the street! hophophoph pant pant pant…. “son of a ….” hop hop hop hop

across the other street! “jesus..” pant hop pant hop into the store! -“Sta desi?” -“uh… Ja… ja sam…uh… i broke… kako kazes broke moj noga?” Purchase sweet death sticks! And back towards home i hobble! h…o….p…..h….o….Outrunning the wind itself. Crutches swiftly sweeping the ground. Old grannies leaving me in the dust. Young children deciding i might in fact be the most entertaining sight they have witnessed the entire day.

Yes, what a fine, noble accomplishment.

Maja and i have discussed many times holding a race. Gimp versus 8 month pregnant woman. Who ya got!? It would be an sight to see. At this point, i totally have her beat on even terrain. Stairs, she’s got the advantage. And when an 8 month pregnant woman can take you climbing up stairs, you have officially reached completely pathetic.)

I would also point out that you do not get crutches here from the hospital. Crutches are actually difficult to come by. Maja’s mother had to make all sorts of calls and backroom deals before she could score a pair of old, wooden crutches from, my estimation, WWI. Seriously. I’m positive these things have seen a few foxholes.

Heck, 2 days ago the bolt (the m-e-t-a-l bolt. metal. it was bloody metal) that holds the screw that holds the handle simply eroded and crumbled into pieces. So the screw that holds the handles that my hand leans on now has a tendency to slide out. Thus while i walk i must now also keep the screw from sliding out and….

Okay. we’ve definitely gone WAY past the point of non interest. Why was i writing this all?

Ah, who knows. Probably because i’m sitting here in the living room, drinking my morning cup of coffee, and thinking how glad i’m gonna be in 3 days when i can finally bloody walk again.

(“uh, Paul, you don’t blog all week and THIS was the best you could come with?” Yeah, yeah. Go watch the Palin/Hillary video again. Assuming the damn link works. I’ve had to change it like, 5 times already.)

Sorry. That is all. Go about your day.


1 Comment »

  1. Hello Paul,

    enjoyed reading the blog today and so happy that you shared on a more personal level in your clever and humorous ways. Check out Facebook. Great pictures of Jock and Tad. The circle is complete now. I am still in AWE and WONDER !!! Hugs,

    Comment by Patsy — September 20, 2008 @ 10:26 pm | Reply

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