BRAINPAN LEAKAGE

“Twas the Night Before Christmas, 21^st Century Edition”

Copyright © 2006, M. R. Sellars

Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the house,

Not a creature was stirring, not even my spouse.

Her wet stockings were hung in the bathroom with care,

My razor was dull and full of her leg hair.

My wife was nestled all snug in our bed,

While visions of shoe sales danced in her head.

When out in the living room there arose such a clatter,

I sprang from my keyboard to empty my bladder.

And what to my wondering eyes should appear,

But some fat S.O.B. drinking my last beer.

His eyes were unfocused, and his cheeks were a-flush,

I could tell at a glance that Santa was a lush.

His knees how they wobbled as he finished with a slurp,

Then he got up from his chair and let out a burp!

“Hi there, young fella,” he said with a *hic*

“Best get outta my way, I think I’m gonna be sick!”

He rushed to the bathroom and I heard my wife scream,

Seems she was in there and didn’t think this too keen.

What was next to occur was kind of a shock,

I found her pummeling Santa with our new alarm clock!

“Hey honey, chill out!” I said with a start.

“Surely you don’t wanna kill the old fart!”

“Look lady,” Santa cried as he lurched and careened,

“I only got airsick ’cause I forgot my Dramamine!”

“So you’re NOT just some drunk?” I asked as he scratched his crotch.

“Of course not,” he replied, “But I WILL take a Scotch!”

“And to show there’re no hard feelings,” he chortled with glee,

“Tell me what is it you’d like to find under your tree.”

I took a sharp breath, and held it inside,

Santa you fool, you’d better run and hide.

You’ve asked the wrong question, instead of the right,

And now you’re gonna be here the rest of the night.

My wife’s eyes sparkled, teeth showing as she grinned,

And the next thing I knew she had the guy pinned!

Catalogs flew, and flyers they fluttered,

Creating immediately a large pile of clutter.

Santa couldn’t move and his eyes filled with fright,

Seeing her chance my redhead squealed with delight!

“Some diamonds and pearls, from this place and that!

Some pumps and some boots, and maybe a hat!”

She ran down her list in a voice filled with glee,

All I could think was “I’m glad it’s not me!”

Santa wriggled and squirmed as she sat on his chest,

Then he shouted and hollered, “Hey, give it a rest!”

But my wife wasn’t finished, that much I knew,

For she held that elf down and started anew.

“Sapphires and rubies, and rings of white gold,

I don’t even care if they’re new or they’re old!

A black leather jacket and a skirt that goes with it,

Matching gloves and a gift card that spends without limit!

A full length fur coat, synthetic of course,

Hey! Are you taking this down? Don’t make me use force!”

The old guy kept kicking, and somehow broke free,

How he managed to do so was way beyond me.

But my redhead was behind him as he sprang for the door,

While she screamed, “No, don’t leave now, for I want so much more!”

Santa ran through my yard as though he were scared,

And I can’t say I blamed him, for I doubted I’d be spared.

He hollered, as he raced, his words not too thrilling,

In fact I must say they were in all senses chilling.

With what he said, I had no choice but to agree,

For she was all wound up and he was leaving her with me.

Now here’s the last thing I heard, as he fled from this strife,

“I’d stay for that scotch, but I’m afraid of your wife!”

Well, the point behind this whole blog thing is to share, correct? This is where you come to learn silly and little known stuff about yours truly…my meandering thoughts, and generally discombobulated logic, all spilled out onto the page so you can say, “Hey, did you know MR is a freakin’ lunatic?”

Am I right? Thought so…

Okay, so on with the “man boobie” thing. My entire life I have suffered from a condition called Gynecomastia. That being “male breasts”…Now, what I’m talking about here is not fat guy man boobies (although I readily admit I could stand to lose a few pounds…) Even when I was much younger and much thinner (yes, Virginia, I used to be a pretty good looking guy) I had this affliction. In fact, when I was thinner, it was even more pronounced.

One of the things about my particular case is that I was asymmetrical…I was flat chested on one side, and sporting a breast on the other. For years I have strapped the damn thing in, worn oversized shirts, etc, in order to conceal this “deformity” which I found embarrassing. (Okay folks, stop laughing, because I really am baring my soul here.) To give you an idea of how traumatic this affliction can be, think adolescent boys and locker rooms. Pretty bad visual of taunting there, eh? I’ll go you one better. Think about getting intimate with a member of the opposite sex, only to have her laugh at you when you remove your shirt…

Been there…Got the oversized t-shirt…

So…Why am I baring my soul here? Well, I received a number of well wishes in response to my “under the knife” blog post, so I thought I’d fill you in on what the knife was all about…

Fortunately, my man boobie wasn’t like a double-d or something…(Again, don’t laugh, because there are men out there afflicted with such who require extremely expensive and invasive surgery if they want this corrected)…Me, I wasn’t that big, but big enough to be easily noticed…Soooo, since I was actually small enough to not require the MAJOR surgery, earlier this year I underwent “Mesotherapy” (sometimes billed as Lipo Dissolve)…It is a process whereby medicines, vitamins, or in my case, a naturally occuring enzyme, is injected in high concentrations into fatty tissues. This can be done in order to administer vitamins or other medication. The particular form of Mesotherapy I had was to literally dissolve the fatty tissues (hence the term Lipo Dissolve or Lipo Therapy)…After several treatments the gynecomastia had been greatly reduced…Enough so, in fact, that my self-esteem got a major boost. However, my doctor, Amy Miller, was certain she could do more than simply reduce it. She was on a mission to make it go away. (Gotta love the doc, she’s a blast…)

Anyway, toward that end, we waited until my touring season was finished and I had some free time to undergo a slightly more radical procedure. Yesterday was that free time. I had actual Tumescent Liposuction to remove the rest of the fatty, glandular, and fibrous tissues that were responsible for my lopsided man boobie.

The process, in and of itself, took a couple of hours, and while it wasn’t what I would call terribly painful, near the end it did get a bit on the uncomfortable side. Not the doc’s fault, just part of the game. Sooooo, while “going under the knife” was probably not the most accurate title for yesterday morning’s blog entry, it was close enough. (she put a couple of holes in my chest and took stuff out, so that’s close enough in my book anyway .)

I was awake during the procedure, and I threatened repeatedly to blog the silliness that was ensuing– Think about it, you’ve got me, the guy who can’t take ANYTHING seriously on the table, and you got the doc and the nurse, Dawn, there for me to entertain. Throw into the mix all of the silly sounds the various medical apparatus were making, and well, you get the picture…I don’t really remember everything clearly (they doped me with a valium or something) but I remember all of us laughing, and I think I might have been funny and entertaining (at least, I hope I was, because I have a follow-up appointment! )

Anyhow, here I sit, with bodily type fluids draining from the holes into dressings that are taped to my chest (and itching like a mother!)…I am also wearing a compression vest sort of garment, which I will be wearing for another couple of weeks (or, as Dr. Miller put it to EK, however long she wants me to wear it…I just knew those two would get along fine )

There you have it…My tale of man boobies…Of which I no longer am in possession…In about 6 months the skin should have tightened up and I can go about my life being happily flat chested

BTW, I put all of the links throughout so y’all could see what I was talking about…I’m sure it probably looks like “product placement,” and I DO heartily reccomend Dr. Miller to anyone considering any of the procedures she does…Why? Not only is she a hell of a doctor, she actually takes time to talk to you. She doesn’t wave a clipboard at you and say “smear this crap on your face and call me in a week…” She’s a real person who treats her patients like real people, and I have to tell you that is a rare find for doctors these days–at least in my experience…On top of that she has a killer staff…Adrienne and Ivy are great, and the nurse who helped with the procedure, Dawn was great too…Yeah, I know, there I go sounding like a commercial again…Oh well, it’s just one of those things. Just like folks do with books–they find one they like, they recommend it. I’ve found a terrific doc, and I’m recommending her…

But, I’ll stop running off at the mouth now…That’s the story and that’s the “elective surgery” I had done…So now you know…Feel enlightened?

Now, if I can just get some more exercise and get rid of this table muscle that I have developed…

MR