Teh Pump!

I went to the pump doctor on Tuesday to have my pump refilled and increased. I’ve had this pump for nearly a year and still haven’t found the right dose (right dose = decreases hypertonicity to a manageable level, but doesn’t turn me into a limp noodle). I suggested we fill the pump with heroin, but the doctor didn’t have any, she said it was “illegal”. We have to stick with Baclofen :(. Allow me to fabricate an explanation about the pump refill process –
 First, I enter the doctor’s office and exchange pleasantries (“how were your two days at the end of the week?”, “how is your offspring?”, etc.), fill out some paperwork (all hail the mighty bureaucracy!), wait, they call me back, I go to an exam room, take my blood pressure, sign more paperwork (all hail the mighty bureaucracy!), then “read” my pump. They’ve never tell me what it says, but I’m guessing it reads like a Shel Silverstein limerick, such as –
“Ickle me, pickle me, refill me too,
Increase the dose while you do.
Jarrett still has tone in his leg,
So, to you I must beg,
Make it so I shoot more magic juice,
That his muscles become more loose
All this I ask of you,
When you ickle me, pickle me, refill me too.”
After this “reading from the book of Medtronic” (to be cereal, the reading shows how much medicine is left in the pump, my current dose and the low dose alarm – mine went off once, more on that in the next blog), the good doctor comes in, gets a hose and funnel and pours the medicine Animal House style down my throat (Baclofen tastes like chicken). Now comes the tough part, the medicine assumes its supposed to go to my stomach – this is wrong. I have to will it into the pump; much the same as a psychic wills your money into his/her (what? They can be dudes too. Sexist!) hand. I jest, what really happens is she takes a syringe filled with magic juice, inserts the needle into refilling hole on my pump, slurps out the old magic juice (It’s lost its magic at this point, so it’s just called “juice”), and pumps me full of fresh stuff. Then she pulls out the needle, we cuddle, then she kicks me out. That’s about it for the pump refill process. Now for part 2 of the

“Message from the Library” saga – 

 Greetings Piner pedagogues! The response to my last email was so overwhelming, I thought I’d send out a sequel and call it “Message from the Library II: The Search for More Media” – when you read that use a dark, ominous voice in your head, it sounds much cooler. In this thrilling tour-de-force, we once again join that dashing, charismatic library assistant on his harrowing quest to reclaim the lost media. In the first part of this epic tale, Sir Alec Guinness/the computer instructed the Wilson to inform the “pedagogues” to return library media to the Piner library, thus avoiding the wrath of the malicious Cherry Bomb. Upon receiving this message, the “pedagogues” sent a torrent of media to the Wilson, barraging him with media to catalog – much as a vampire would be overcome by the scent of garlic. To stem the tide of concerns about who still has media checked out, our hero, with the help of his trusty 3rd period sidekick, has gone through the media to find those that were shelved without being checked in. That labor has produced the list you are about to read. Several of you have asked me if you may keep some particular media, the answer is a sigh and an “I guess”. There is no rush to get it done, just would like to have all our videos in the media room for a long summer’s nap. We also have to consider the chronosynclastic infundibulum that might possibly result should even ONE movie be missing from the media room! ITEM! I have a list of “pedagogues” with DVD players. VCRs and TVs checked out, but I haven’t updated it in a while (again, Mrs. *REDACTED* is somehow to blame) – so I’ll trust in your magnanimity to bring back said piece of equipment if you have one. This email is too long, I’m going to stop writ… PEDAGOGUE NAMES REDACTED Help me, help you! SHOW ME THE MEDIA!

 Librarily, Jarrett


Eventually Has Happened!

Summer is upon us! This means several things: 1. Major retailers will be stocking Halloween merchandise (gotta stay ahead of the competition!), 2. People that are chumps are still working and, 2. The electric companies are really enjoying the heat. As intriguing as the first and last points are, let’s focus on the middle point. I’ve decided that blogging is something I’d like to do again now that I have more time. I say “again” when I never actually stopped, I put out a weekly blog full of invisible words on thatguyisfullofsh*t.com. I really enjoyed writing the one about                             it was a riot! I got 50 or so comments (I think?). Let’s get on with it shall we? Friday was the last day of work for the employees of Sherman ISD, with the previous day being the last day for the children. As such, SUMMER IS UPON US! You might be saying to yourself, I need to take out the trash, or perhaps, he already said that. My reply to this comment is twofold: 1. Stop talking to yourself, and 2. Go to work, chump 😛

It’s 11:45 on a Sunday and the Nazis at Albertsons won’t sell me beer until 12. Good for them, I’d phone up Barack Obama right away and tell on them. Are you waiting for me to mention something substantive about the Jarrett? I’ve decided to get into all that on the next entry. Do you know why I’ve made that decision? Because it’s my blog and I can do what I want, dammit. I will leave you with this – One of my jobs at the library was to keep track of the media (read: movies) that the teachers check out. At the end of the year I sent out a list of teachers that still had movies belonging to the library. Jarrett can’t just say “the following chumps need to return media to the library”. I concocted a story that ultimately had three parts. What follows is the first part of what has become known as the “Message from the Library” saga. Enjoy!

CONGRATULATIONS (INSERT NAME)! If you are reading this, you have been specially selected to read its contents! You see, there are several of you that still have DVDs or VHS tapes checked out from the library that have not been returned. We are nearing the end of the school year, and the spreadsheet that keeps track of all the media we have in the library just hates when the “check in” column is blank. In fact, the spreadsheet got so vexed it actually spoke to me. In a voice that sounded a lot like Sir Alec Guinness, the spreadsheet said, “Send forth an e-mail to all the pedagogues of the Piner Middle School reminding them to return all media to the Wilson forthwith! This must be done that the Cherry Bomb won’t rain down upon these pedagogues with great vengeance and furious anger!” Of this peculiar occurrence I had two thoughts: 1. How was my computer talking? Furthermore, why does it sound like Obi-Wan Kenobi? 2. Who uses the word “pedagogues” anymore? These concerns aside, I did as my computer instructed me in sending the list of those of you that have media that belongs to the library (so far as my records are concerned).

If you would like to know the name and type of media that I have you listed as possessing, use magic (i.e. the Internet/e-mail) to make a message pop up on my magical box (i.e. my computer) and I will let you know. If you feel that your name is on this list in error, it is most likely NOT the Wilson’s fault – I’m sure Mrs. *Redacted* is somehow to blame. Without further stalling for time, here is the list that I was ordered to send; if your name is on the list, this indicates that you have media that needs to be returned to the library. If your name is not on the list, you…uhh…don’t have media that needs to be returned to the library –


Contact me with all due haste if your name appears on the list above! If we don’t have all the media by June 1st, that media will spend a very lonely summer in your classroom!

May the Force be with You, Jarrett


Stuff and Junk

Hey there buckaroos and buckaroodettes! I’ll skip the usual “I haven’t posted recently because…” and just say “better late than never!” Much has transpired since last I “flogged” you –

Professionally: I am once again gainfully employed as a library assistant at the Piner library. I very much enjoy it – it’s quiet, I get to leave work at work, and I get to organize and categorize all day! My inner bureaucrat is taken care of 🙂

Medically: I am now part machine (that’s right, I was all man before). I wear a black helmet, breathe loudly and sound like James Earl Jones and enjoy pinching my fingers together to choke strangers (I’m a RIOT at restaurants! I make people think they’re choking on alfalfa sprouts!)… But seriously YOU DON’T KNOW THE POWER OF THE DARK SIDE!!! Sorry, that just sorta pops out every now and again. Long story longer and more convoluted – YOU DON’T KNOW THE POWER OF THE DARK SIDE!!! Err… Lets assume you do know the power of there dark side so we can move on (for the record, it’s eh).

Listen: I had a pump implanted in my abdomen (left side), connected to a tube leading to my spine. This pump releases Baclofen (muscle relaxer/ joy juice) directly into my spine. Take that blood brain barrier!… I’m back! You may continue reading. Bet you didn’t even know I was gone! Being away doing chores as I just was, I’ve decided that I’d like to address one or two things not related to my brain. I will call these reflections “Prosaic Musings and Stuff” or PMS for short. Firstly, why is it that when you (or maybe it only happens to me? Do comment.) take a full trashbag out of your trash can, another empty bag doesn’t magically appear in its place? I come back to throw some sh.. away but there aren’t no bag! As if that’s not bad enough I have to put a new one in! It’s like a gift that keeps on giving, only it’s bad. It’s an “ungift”.
I have to go to bed now, next topic – Sunchips and the weirdo that names them (i.e. “harvest cheddar” how does one harvest cheddar? Doesn’t that imply that you have to grow cheddar? Even if that were possible, where does one acquire cheddar seeds?)…to be continued.

Miclog #8 ("The Exorcist, part pee")

Happy 4th of July, Internet! I am slowing down on the Miclogs – sorry, so many video games, so little time. I’ll just jump right in: I had the baclofen trial and it was found not guilty by reason of it being an inanimate object. It was, therefore, set free to continue not doing anything. When I last checked, it wasn’t happy or sad about the decision, because pills don’t have emotions, or the means to express them if they did. You want more medicine humor? Or am I being a pill? The trial was deemed a success owing to the fact that my left leg was easier to relax and my left hamstring started to work (no more circumduction or hyperextension!). The “installation” is scheduled for July 28…coincidentally, Abraham Lincoln’s birthday – actually, I’m lying…chumps! Banks will be open that day, so your transactions should post just fine. I’ve gotta throw in one more wisecrack about the trial – the trial, a shot in the spine to inject baclofen, was done by a radiologist named Dr. Scott. After the injection, I shouted “Dr. Scotty, I need more medicine!” He abruptly replied, “I’ve given you all I got, captain!” Not sure why he called me captain, maybe it was the sailor hat they gave me so I’d stop crying.
In other news, I got a job as a sea captain; which is strange considering I’m nowhere close to an ocean. I’m that good, I guess. Jess and I finally exorcised the “poop in a diaper” demon from our daughter by *gasp*, not providing diapers. Listen, demons – like the “PiaD” demon – thrive on the inconsistency of humans. The SOB called a friend in to fill the void, though: the “pee in bed” demon. I’m pretty sure he’s a dude, so we call him “Mr. PiB”. Oh well, as I like to say, there are no problems, only solutions; we’ll figure this out, we can call the local priest – Jebidiah Pepper, Ph.D, or Dr. Pepper – to exorcise Mr. PiB.

I go now!


Miclog #567

Miclog #s 5, 6 & 7: I wrote 5 & 6 about a month ago 7 will be more updated, to simplify things, I will call this whole thing miclog #567, as I will probably never get that high. I am going to copy and paste 5, 6 & 7. Why? Because I can. Here we go –
Microg #5 (“Inception”) – After seeing the Hollywood feature with Leonardo Dicaprio, I thought to myself, “the landscape of my mind is a lot like Paris, and I would love to have Leo Dicaprio tinkering around in there.” Unfortunately, Leo was not available and dream invasion doesn’t exist *sigh*…guess I’ll keep dreaming of the day when Leo comes to sedate me and invade my dreams. The only alternative to that dream within a dream is to have a hypnotherapist “incept” the idea that it is no longer necessary for me to instruct my left arm to take action, the way you command your butt-cheeks to clinch when you need to abstain from flatulence at the dinner table. Listen, I waste an excessive amount of “CRAM” (Cognitive Random Access Memory), thinking about moving/manipulating my left arm/hand; resources that should be devoted to ending world hunger or pondering the age old question: Diamond Dave or Sammy Hagar? Actually, I have already found the answers to both – magic and Diamond Dave (period). I need more energy to anticipate the needs of my darling daughter and her tyrannical compulsions for juice and pancakes. To reprogram my noodle to devote a reasonable amount of “CRAM” to the critical tasks outlined above, I have enlisted the services of a hypnotist. At this point, I have done pretty much everything that modern medical science has to offer, why not try a little hocus pocus? To my surprise, the mind can overcome some daunting hurdles when properly channeled. I wrote this a month ago and like anybody (brain injured or knee injured or emotionally injured) I have lost my train of thought…more on my actual hypnosis is forthcoming, stay tuned!

Miclog #6 (“conception”): I am throwing out the name “Microg” because ‘blog’ is not fairly represented. Therefore, the ‘r’ is to be dropped in favor of an ‘l’, bringing it closer to the word ‘blog’. As a promoter of equal rights, the change makes me happy; I like to be happy : ) With that, I give you the first “Miclog”, Micro-blog #6 –
It seems that hypnosis works, at least for a little while; until my brain realizes it’s been hoodwinked, at which point the “CRAM” will again be dominated by my occupational therapist asking me, ”why aren’t you using your left hand?” I am by no means back to a point where I can puppeteer (as many of you know,I LOVE puppeteering, if you didn’t know that we’re not friends anymore, shame on you!), my left arm now acts more of its own accord, still clumsy and slow, but now my mind has more energy to devote to the important things, such as – birth certificate issues concerning our president and the royal wedding.

Miclog #7 (” No Country for Big Needles”): At this moment (5:25pm, Wednesday the 8th of June) – if you read it later, I’ll probably be getting Q a “happy juice”
or swinging her in the backyard – I am sitting up in a hospital bed at Zale Lipshy in Dallas. A little after the noon o’clock hour, a doctor jabbed me in the spine with two needles(!), the first to numb the area, and the second to pump in that sweet muscle relaxer known as baclofen. Other than fulfilling a lifelong desire to get not one, but two shots in my spine, the goal was to see how my left leg would react to a direct shot of baclofen. This ” baclofen trial” as it is called, was deemed a success in so far as it significantly reduced my tremors and improved my gait (no more circumduction or hyperextension, but I drag my foot). All this means I am eligible for pump surgery where they surgically implant a chair on my back where a doctor injects baclofen into my spine every 4-6 hours…I asked the doctor how I’m supposed to sleep, he shrugged and said, “not my problem.” and now…page 2.
Although you won’t have to wait to read this, I must wait to write more owing to the need to potty, you’ll never know I’m gone. I’m back, which is evident by the fact that you are reading…I don’t know that I have anything else of substance…go Mavs and keep fighting the good fight, Lynn! Ciao.


Microg #4 ("The Feats of Strength")

As my last microg was about grievances (complaints), this microg will be about my strengths (achievements).
The most significant achievement of late has been to brave the trap ridden cave that is the modern private disability insurance industry and come out with the golden idol (an approved claim).
In other words, I don’t work in the official sense. I spend my days cleaning the house, doing laundry, washing dishes and doing what my three year old daughter tells me to do. I have found that this stuff is work that chumps without disability insurance don’t get paid for; it certainly keeps me busy.
I also found the Ark of the Covenant and melted a bunch of Nazis (score one for democracy!).
When I’m not busy doing housework or finding religious artifacts that melt fascists, I’m working on my computer, messing with A/V in the living room or manipulating technology in some other way. This was a goal I set for myself long ago and can proudly say that my tech habit is back to pre-hemorrhage levels. If I may type a song to my wife – “I still love technology, but not as much as you, you see. Always and forever”. I wrote that after I heard it on a movie ; ).
Another significant “feat of strength” is passing the driving test and returning to the road. So far, I’ve only hit, four cats, two dogs, five mailboxes, one parked car (it was an Oldsmobile so, eh), three children and two adults (I honked. What do you want from me?). But seriously, I only hit three mailboxes : P.
That’s it for microg 4, hope you learned something.


Micro- blog #3 -"Airing of Grievances"

*COWBELL!* I’ve decided that the term “Micro-blog” is too long and cumbersome; therefore, I have taken such liberties with the English language as is my right as an American (freedom of speech includes fabricating new words, right? Webster be damned, this is the land of the free!) to invent a new word. Henceforth, my short blogs will be called will be called ”microgs”. *COWBELL!*
*COWBELL!* So, without further ado, I present microg #3 (“The Airing of Grievances”) –
*COWBELL!* Being both handicapped and highly learned, I tend to overanalyze the way others perceive me. One very clear indication that I have an affliction is my leg brace; therefore, I get asked “what happened to your leg?”. Let me overanalyze this common exchange for you: The scar from my BRAIN SURGERY is clearly visible on my head, which, you might think would lead to a more interesting conversation. Alas, no. It’s always ”what happened to your leg?”. I don’t expect people to look at my leg, then my head and conclude ”oh, stroke/hemorrhage and surgery”. But it seems to me that the scar on my head would warrant more curiosity. This social anachronism has led me to postulate the “Proximity of Outrageous Ouchies to Prime Operation Organs” hypothesis (hereafter to be referred to as the “POOPOO” hypothesis). The main premise of the “POOPOO” hypothesis is, as your injury approaches an organ responsible for some vital function (i.e. The heart, the brain, the butt, etc.), the chance for it to get introduced into conversation by anyone other than the afflicted goes down. As such, there is a much greater chance that a conversee will ask about My leg than my head (my head is closer to my brain than my leg is to my butt, you might even say that my brain is inside my head, if modern science is to be believed). *COWBELL!*
*COWBELL!* As I am “airing grievances” in this microg, I must air the grievance with myself that I have spent so many words on “POOPOO”. To that end, I will move on to another grievance. *COWBELL!*
*COWBELL!* My next grievance is something that literally “rattles” me – spasticity. You see, after my surgery my brain rewired itself in such a way that it constantly tells the muscles in my left arm and left leg to contract. This results in tremors up and down my left side and arm/leg muscles flexing without end; I have to concentrate on relaxing them the way anyone else would have to concentrate to tighten said muscles. As you can imagine, with all the shiny objects out there, I get distracted pretty easily. Therefore, the constant shaking and contracting has led to some very sore joints and appendages, it also puts me at risk for arthritis. And as a guy who doesn’t have or like arthritis, that grieves me! *COWBELL!*
*COWBELL!* I have many other grievances, but if this gets much longer, I wouldn’t be able to call it a “microg”, and that would grieve me! *COWBELL!*


Micro- blog #2

True to my word (and the counsel of my ”blogtor”), herein are the words of the clumsy and wonky armed Jarrett, it shall be named micro-blog #2, so let it be done!
The girls and I went to a carnival fundraiser for a co-worker’s daughter. She (the daughter) was diagnosed with Leukemia not long ago and has already been through quite a bit. I’m not sure how old the little one is, but I’m sure she is less than 10. Now, I’ve gone through quite a bit also, but I got to live ~30 years free of major medical problems. This poor girl isn’t even a teenager yet and she has to contend with a serious illness. Moreover, her parents have to endure seeing their only daughter get ravaged by both the sickness and the cure. Life is unfair, but is unfairer for some than it is for others. I have every confidence that she will persevere and live a long and happy life, all the more joyful that she is alive to enjoy each new day, but I believe that the sadness, heartache and trials she (like me) has to endure to attain that joy are are not worth it. She has a good family and has every reason to feel joy without this contrast.
This largely holds true for me, as well. I have a loving and committed wife, a beautiful and vivacious daughter and three dogs that show their love by trying to knock me down the stairs every time I descend them, as well as a very understanding and caring network of family, in-laws and friends. I don’t need hardship to know joy.
Stay tuned for micro-blog #3 which, I promise, will have MORE COWBELL!


Micro-blog #1

I haven’t added to my blog for a long time because I haven’t made the time to add to it. Up until now, I (erroneously) believed that each entry had to be a long and exhaustive update on all things Jarrett. This misguided approach to blogging, coupled with my diminished ability to type and the concomitant frustration that results, effectively stifled my blogging gland (my “bland”, if you will). In order to de-stifle said gland (the “bland”, as I just mentioned), my blogtor said I should try writing less, but more often. Behold! The micro-blog was born!
Let’s get to it then –
I don’t work any more. The district approved FMLA starting back in January (the start of the spring semester), I have since resigned.
I am not without remuneration, the private disability insurance I auspiciously signed up for when I started working graciously agreed that I was indeed disabled and will pay me to be disabled for the next two years.
Therefore, I spend my days at home cleaning, cooking and physical therapy-ing.
Most of my time is spent as Qs (Quinn, my daughter) thrall. She says “jump”, I say “I can’t, I’ll fall down”, she says “I want a pop tart”, and I say “we’re all out, you ate the last one yesterday”, then she screams until my ears bleed (then I hear birds singing : D).
I think that’ll be all for micro-blog #1, stay tuned for #s 2, 3, 4…and so on, and in that order! Ciao.


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