How to Move Up to #1 on My Speed Dial

A week ago yesterday I had my knee totally replaced. We assumed there would be a few bumps while I recovered. Neither is complaining about my being laid up. And only my wife, Jeanne, is complaining about my constant whining.

Jeanne has been running all over for me.  And when she got home I could tell that she had a long day.  So, last night after work she had to fill my shoes with Jackson, our son. Jeanne took him to bowling right after work. It was then that he asked if he could go to last night’s basketball game, to which I always take him. So, she laced up her boots, threw on her jacket, and took him to the ballgame. She hates to go because (1) the bleachers kill her back, (2) she is not a fan of basketball, and (3) she doesn’t get the quick wit of me and my friends.

Because Jeanne was going to be in a hurry, she bought Jack some bowling alley food for supper and bought me a Big Mac meal.

Now, since the operation, my appetite has shrunk. Not my stomach, just my appetite. I’ve been eating simple meals, lots of fruit and even more popsicles. Anyway, I was thinking the Big Mac meal would be just the ticket to get my system back in gear.  Let my stomach know I didn’t leave our relationship.

While I was eating my dinner Jack announced “I’ve gotta go to the bathroom. The supper is making me go.” Okay, okay, whatev! Just go!  And he raced off to the bathroom.

Shortly after I finished my Big Mac meal (medium fries – I didn’t want to be a hero) Jeanne and Jackson took off for the game. This is when “fun time” began for me.

First, I had the same reaction to my supper that Jack had to his. My stomach felt like a fast-moving lava lamp. So I take my covers off, take off the ice pump and get ready to do a quick sprint.  I would say ‘run’ but I hate puns.

Just then, my mother-in-law calls. “Hi, Cal, is Jeanne there?” When I tell her that she just went to the basketball game with Jack she says “Okay, can you have her run over a pair of earrings to the house?” She then proceeds to explain that she is going somewhere and how it matches her outfit. Meanwhile, my intestines are warning me to get moving.  Like an avalanche flowing down the mountainside warns skiers to get moving.

I told her “Okay, but she won’t be back until 8:30 or so”, speaking quickly through clenched teeth. Apparently she couldn’t see my face through the phone because she said “Oh…How are you doing? You feeling better? Do you need anything???”

“Nope, I’m okay. Gotta go…literally”.  Next time, Facetime!

So I grab my walker (a nice, fancy, souped-up model) and bolted at 30 yards per hour to the bathroom.

From this point on the squeamish might wish to look away. Let’s just say the scene of Harry Dunne with the upset stomach at Mary Swanson’s lodge need not be acting on the part of Jeff Daniels – it DOES actually happen.

Twenty minutes later I felt it was safe to flee the scene. Trouble is, when I stood up I noticed there was already some toilet paper in the bowl. Apparently, Jack backed up the toilet like Joe Biden backs up Obama and didn’t tell anyone.

We all know there is only one way to check the damage – give it a flush. So I did. And the water level slowly rose. About 500 questions went through my head in the next three seconds. Why didn’t Jack tell anyone? How far will the water rise? Why didn’t I put on wader boots?

Good thing for us we had one of the new low-flush toilets that only hold about a handful of water. Trouble is, I already knew Jeanne was not going to be in a good mood when she got back from the game. And I was not able to manipulate myself around the bowl to fix it, so she was going to have to do THAT, too, along with already performing my duties by taking Jack to two sporting events.

I ambled back to the couch to rest and think. “Jeanne is already tired and I just made her more work. Where is our plunger? Can I do it when Jeanne gets home? Maybe I can call someone over.”

So I grabbed the phone and called the one guy everyone can count on in an emergency – my brother-in-law Dave. He should be wearing a cape and have an ‘S’ on his chest for what he does for others.

Dave answered the phone (his only mistake of the night) and asked “What’s up?” I told him I have a HUGE favor to ask him. The only reason I was calling is because Jeanne had a long day, our toilet is backed up, and I don’t want to leave it for her to attend to when she gets home.

Dave gave out a big laugh and said he’d be over in about 5 or 10 minutes. I told him to bring his best plunger.  And waders.

When Dave arrived I was still lying on the couch. He put on his health mask, plastic gloves, double-checked his wading boots and headed off for the commode. After a few seconds Dave yelled back “WHAT DID YOU DO, WAIT TEN DAYS TO GO???”  I was both embarrassed and proud at the same time.

Soon after I heard the most beautiful sound since Van Miller announcing the Bills were going to the Super Bowl – the sound of the toilet flushing properly. Dave yelled back “BEAUTIFUL SOUND, AIN’T IT?”

Yes, it is, Dave.  And so is the sound of your voice when I call your phone number late at night.