My Triumphant Return to Georgia

I’m back now, so you can all cancel whatever suicide pacts you may have made.

Tuesday, January 4, 2005
I left for Tennessee after work, listening to Barbara Kingsolver’s Pigs in Heaven. It was well written, but I’ve grown tired of the Woman Complaining Because She’s A Woman And In An Unhappy Relationship genre, so I switched to Stephen King’s Hearts in Atlantis, which is my all-time favorite book. William Hurt does a fine job of reading, but I like the voices in my head better (especially Fleemax, Hell Demon of my sock drawer). Since my mom wouldn’t be able to eat before or after her surgery (before due to hospital rules, after because they were ramming tubes down her throat and banding the esophageal veins) I took her to dinner at the local Chinese restaurant. I had the sweet-n-sour chicken, grilled shrimp, hush puppies, and canned chocolate pudding.

Wednesday, January 5, 2005
The doctor’s office had called the previous day and told us to show up an hour early. We arrived around ten AM, filled out paperwork, shuffled from one waiting room to another, and eventually she was taken away. I spent the day with Satan Sue, finishing George R. R. Martin’s A Game of Thrones. Only one complaint about the book – the last chapter is not an ending of any kind. Apparently his editors said “That’s enough, George.” Since it’s a fantasy story I’m assuming it will be told in the form of a trilogy, in accordance with federal law or divine mandate.
Around 2:00 PM, I was allowed to speak with the doctor. He explained that he also didn’t know what the original doctors had done with my mother, and that today’s operation was to be the first in a never-ending series of repeat procedures and checkups. I was allowed to see my mother, who felt fine and was ready to go. They kept her around, repeatedly insisting that she not vomit anytime soon (as if it’s ever an option), but finally discharged her after several arguments about obtaining copies of her medical records. She promised to schedule the next appointment when she got home, but told me she’s through with them. We’ll see. She does look/feel better now that she’s gotten out of the hospitals and off their many medications.
Disobeying all her doctor’s orders, she ate potato salad, ice cream, and cookies for dinner.

Thursday, January 6, 2005
My mother felt well enough to do something, so we toured the Jack Daniel’s Distillery in Lynchburg, TN. This was probably not the best idea in light of the standing No Barfing orders from her doctor, but we both managed to survive with our stomach contents still in place. While there, I learned the following:

1. For $8,000 to $12,000 (depending on which state you live in) you can sample from three of their select barrels of whiskey, and choose one to purchase completely. This includes the barrel and 240 bottles of specially labeled JD Old #7.
2. Tennessee sippin’ whiskey has to be filtered through charcoal to earn it’s title.
3. Jack Daniel died after he kicked his office safe and broke his toe, which became infected. Ironically, he would have survived if he had doused the injury with whiskey.
4. I never want to drink liquor again. Even beer smells bad now, but we all have our crosses to bear.

Oddly enough, I thought the finished product smelled worse than the fermenting sour mash or the 140 proof pre-filtered grog.

Friday, January 7, 2005
I’m back to entertain you. Step away from the shotgun and pills.

In, out