Thursday, March 6, 2014

The Eruption at 3 A.M.

March 6, 2014
Mike is gone. Two weeks with him was a bit of a chore. I seemed to bring out the worst of him, I am not sure why. He kept calling me "Boy," as if he didn't understand its racial implication. When I told him to knock it off, he slowed up some but did not quit. I also saw what a bully he has inside him. Part of it is his size, only 5'9'' but a solid 205 and likes to throw his weight around. I met his new lady friend who was unimpressive: a club woman type, a widow who winter's in Tucson. After they went golfing she called him up and broke things off with him. His reaction was no sweat; it doesn't matter. If there was a deeper response he didn't show it. But I now feel I have a clue why two women left him.

He cooked dinner Tuesday night, his last night with us. It turned into a disaster for me. He made spicy curry eaten over rice. I had some reservation when I heard all that was in the sauce, so I ate a small portion to be on the safe side. It didn't help. At 3 AM I woke up with shit oozing out of my anus. I tried to make it to the toilet but I didn't make it and there were three more eruptions after that first blast. The brown uncontrollably flow lasted 2  hours which utterly drained me. My dear wife ran to my aid and hardly complained when cleaning up the mess. Neither of us went back to bed at 5 AM but within a half hour I fell asleep in my recliner and slept till 10:30. As a matter of fact I slept on and off for the rest of the day and that night I slept from midnight till 6 AM. But I felt OK this morning. (I heard from Skip this morning and he has the same problem I have with his gall bladder gone. "Wherever I go I stay close to a toilet.")

Other than that I reworked two poems all afternoon, "The Big Dream" and "A Pale Horseman Hiccups." It was about the 4th try with both poems.

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