Oh Stenty, We Hardly Knew Thee! (And Thank God You Didn't Meet Oliver Twist)

Lordie Lordie, it has been a while! So let me just update all my wonderful fans about the torture I've been through for the past couple of days.

Part 1:

First thing that needs to be announced is that I am getting my left kidney removed. I was born with a congenital abnormality where the blood vessel on my left kidney crosses paths with my ureter, causing it to narrow ever so slighty due to the blood that pumps through it. This slight narrowing has turned into scarring and in the long run caused back flow into my kidney, causing it to swell (with pee). After my 22 years of life, this swelling of the kidney muscle has taken it's toll and now ole lefty is only doing 10% of what she should be doing. Lazy Hippy Kidney.

Anyways, at the end of September I underwent a gut wrenching procedure in which a stent was inserted through my urethra, into my ureter, as depicted above. The stent spreads open the ureter and viola pee flows out and into the bladder. Now, for those that just glossed over that, that means this stent (which I've nicknamed Stenty) was inserted through my penis. First a flexible plastic tube was shoved up my wang and then through the tube, a metal wire that held the stent. I was completely awake during the entire procedure and to top it off I had a local anestethic adminstered to the tip of my wang; think about that ladies and gents, that's a needle to the dick.

So for the next month and a half, Stenty and I, made the most out of our predictament and got along for the most part. The first few days were rough, she wanted out, I wanted her out. Peeing was a nightmare, I had to take deep breaths before emptying my bladder, I clutched on to the toliet paper for something to squeeze (like a pregnant lady needs someone's hand to clutch during birth) and after a few tears were shed, I felt that relief most children do coming back from church on Sunday knowing that this is the longest possible time before more torture.

But the days passed, the blood in my urine lessened, Stenty made herself at home and I eased up on liquor for her sake. Peeing became the relief it provides once again and all was well.

Then a month and half passed.

And it was time for Stenty to leave me. I couldn't sleep the night before the procedure; I was too nervous. And the morning following at St. Mike's Hospital, I lead out some tears as those heartless doctors kept me awake as they ripped her from my bodice. She was gone.

But I was reminded of her shortly after, when I went to pee; there was that mindnumbing stinging pain, my body's way of telling me it would never be whole again.

Now as you all wipe away those tears at that heart wrenching story, you suddently remember my title included a reference to Oliver Twist!

Part 2:

My friend Jamie invited me to see our friend,Arlene, preform in Lester B. Pearson's Theatre production of "Oliver Twist". Since I never read the book, nor seen the movie or play or musical, I figured "Why not?!".

Now let me say that Arlene stole the show completely! I didn't even know the girl could sing, but the moment she opened her mouth and that choir-of-angels of a voice she has poured out of her, I was enamored. Brava Arlene!

But before I heard Ms. Paculan's voice, I had to listen, no wait, listen is too good a word, it signifies some kind of respect, I had to suffer through Oliver Twist's voice. Now I won't name the young chap you played Oliver Twist, but calling him terrible would be a compliment. You all know how I had to prep myself to pee after Stenty, God rest her soul, was placed inside of me, that's exactly what I had to do to prep for Oliver's voice. Deep breathes, clutching my program, wincing in agony. No pitch, no acoustics, nothing. I'd rather listen to microphone malfunctions. I had goosebumps not from being struck by this child's voice, but from the fact that my soul not only died inside of me, but began to rot a little. To say I was happy when the play was over, would be a lie. I was angry. This little wretch did the equivalent of scratching nails on a chalkboard throughout his preformance.

Some may say "Darek! That's a little harsh, especially since the "singer" was only 13" and some might say that either he has incredibly supportive parents that allow their son to follow any dream he wishes. I say these people are simple-minded. He clearly has parents that don't love him and were probably back stage, laughing away, saying "Can you believe we got him to preform in this?".