__________
Kenny: "Me and Davybob are going to the music room."
...
Linda: "I DON'T WANT TO FIND ANYBODY PASSED OUT NAKED ON MY FLOOR! Tequila is BANNED from this house!
Kenny: "Was that the night I threw up in your truck?"
Linda: "No. That was another night."
Kenny: "Was that the night my pants fell off while I was shooting bottle rocks?"
Linda: "I don't remember."
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The soul, inspiration, and Official Photographer of the RBF (that would be kenny) had his left hip replaced about a month ago. With that, the RBF has gone bionic.
As with all things kenny, there's a forward and an afterward.
Before they could operate on kenny several things had to happen, some of it involving medications. In the middle of that process kenny's brother Bill (Mikey's dad) died suddenly and unexpectedly. The combination of all those things caused a syncope episode at the funeral home. That night about 3 am Linda had to call 911 (turns out kenny's kidneys weren't firing on all 8 cylinders (like maybe 0 cylinders)).
Now some of you may remember the story the last time an ambulance was called to the RBF's mascot's house to transport kenny somewhere; Mongo bit the paramedic. Strange men in uniforms with badges and scissors and utility belts and radios were trying to strap his daddy to a gurney and put him inside an official looking vehicle that for all Mongo knew could have been the human equivalent of the Animal Control Truck, or, worse even, a vacuum cleaner sales van. Mongo Loyd Peerson was having none of that. The Fearless River Dog saw an enemy ankle at eye level and did what any Basenji Chihuahua would do in that situation; he got himself a mouthful of Paramedic sock.
(Mongo on full security alert)
Remembering that episode Linda locked Mongo up this time, but with all the excitement the communication with the 911 folks was less than perfect. Somehow they got the idea that things were worse than they really were and they showed up thinking the patient was DOA (Linda said they seemed to be in a bigger hurry than last time). Linda tried to convince them that kenny was still ventilating, and I imagine the conversation may have gone something like this:
kenny "I'm not dead yet."
Linda: "He says he's not dead."
Paramedic: "Yes he is."
kenny: "I'm not."
Linda: "He isn't"
kenny: "I'm getting better."
Paramedic: "No you're not. You'll be stone dead in a moment."
I guess after they realized kenny had insurance they decided to take him to the hospital instead of the morgue.
You want to you know something about the state of health care in 2009? Here's an anecdote. Linda decided kenny's ortho surgeon ought to know about his kidney situation so she called his office. She was explaining that kenny had renal failure but the doctor's office nurse wasn't getting it. Linda: "His kidneys failed!" Office nurse: "Well which is it? Renal failure or kidney failure?" (I'm sure this type of exchange will soon be a thing of the past as soon as ObamaCare kicks in).
As most of you know we RBF types are a close knit bunch. Merchant was at the hospital cheering kenny up on the day he was to be discharged. Linda planned to leave work at noon to take kenny his clothes, shoes, skivvies, etc., endure the discharge ritual, and take him home. However, the hospital nazis foiled that plan by deciding to let kenny go earlier than previously announced or expected. As soon as kenny heard the word "discharge" he and Merchant took off without waiting for any further formalities. Merchant pushed kenny away in a wheel chair, kenny being bare-foot and wearing nothing but his untied hospital gown. Hospital pencil pushers were chasing them around waving papers for kenny to sign when they got to Merchant's truck. Merchant hesitated before loading kenny up, then threw a towel down on the passenger seat and told kenny "Sit on this!" (Bruthahood, RBF or otherwise, does have its limits).
Fast forward a couple of weeks to the next hospitalization for the hip surgery. A lot of the components used in hip replacement surgery today are made of plastic. The RBF has known this for quite some time, and we've been running over kayaks for years to stockpile plastic for these types of occasions. Unfortunately, kayak grade plastic is of extremely poor quality, and you have to refine about a ton of it to get enough to do one replacement joint. (kenny also needs a new knee, so Kwakheads consider yourself forewarned and heed well the words of the RBF battle song (which I have forgotten (little help?), but which includes a reference to the sound a kayak makes when an RBF open boat runs over it)).
kenny was in surgery for quite a while. The surgeon greeted Linda after the operation sweating like a field hand and looking exhausted. He told her sometimes a procedure can go so smoothly and effortlessly that he felt guilty taking money for it. Then he said no amount of money could drag him back for another go at kenny's mass of thigh muscles and darn near impermeable bone. When kenny woke up and the doctor explained how much of kenny's bone he had to cut away and replace with the prosthesis, kenny said "Where is it? I want to take the bone home to Mongo." End result: the bone went to pathology and kenny went home empty handed.
As the RBF ages our hips* go, our knees* go, our kidneys go, our backs* go, and our eyes go too. They put a bunch of bands on kenny's wrist, and he thought one of them said "Flight Risk." He thought they had video of the Merchant kidnapping on file and were determined not to let that happen again. He was complaining about that (bitterly I'm sure), and someone pointed out the band said "Fall Risk," not "Flight Risk."
* ARG has one word for the RBF: "Superpuma"
So the bottom line is: Kwakheads Beware: kenny's been on the DL but the comeback is underway. Practice your squeaking, and if you'll buy boats made of more expensive plastic we won't have to run over so damn many of you (laugh if you will, but when the grid goes down and fat hairy men are in control again it might not be so funny). And for the rest of you, keep a towel near the passenger seat of your shuttle rig and watch your ankles when you hear a siren.
