Wednesday, November 19, 2008

R.N.R.P.

I'm not sure if this is the proper forum to share this news, but here goes: I went to the doctor recently, because I've been feeling rather lethargic lately. I hate hospitals, but things weren't improving on their own, so I went. Jennie, drove me down, and was kind enough to wait with me. Of course, the emergency room was packed. I filled out some papers and was told to have a seat. One of the reasons I hate the hospital, is that I always feel like I'm going to leave sicker than when I arrived. There's always someone coughing up green and black, solid matter onto the floor, and little kids wiping snot on everything. This trip didn't stray far from that mold. After two hours of sitting in what could have been a field Hospital in Vietnam, I finally got called to see the doctor. He did the usual, checked my heart, my lungs, asked some questions about my diet and exercise. After the initial exam, something strange happened: he asked me to bring Jennie into the room. Once we were both seated, he explained that I had a condition known as an R.N.R.P., and that because Jennie and I live together, and share a bed, that it was likely that she, too, would be infected. After the initial moment of shock, I asked him to explain what exactly R.N.R.P. meant. Was it fatal? Was it curable? Is it going to spoil my good looks? He explained that no, in most cases it is not fatal, and that while there isn't a cure, most people learn to manage the disease. "R.N.R.P.", he said, "stands for Rock n' Roll Problem. It usually affects people from ages 16 and 25, but can sometimes continue, well into middle age. Symptoms include: binge drinking, ingestion of illicit drugs, and inability to get along with people who are not infected." He gave us a pamphlet, and asked us to come back in a few weeks, so that he could monitor our progress.

I know this might be hard for some of you to hear, but be strong. According to the pamphlet, as long as we stay away from loud music, cheap beer, and tattoo parlors, we should be able to overcome this disease. The pamphlet also recommends shopping at the Gap, buying mainstream pop cd's, and voting republican. With our friends on our side, and a keen awareness of risk factors, we can beat this thing. Remember, if I leave here tomorrow, I love you all.
(Dedicated to the ones that didn't make it: Sid, Elvis, Johnny Thunders, and most of all: Matty Luv.)

The Fuck Boyz, "Rock n' Roll Problem"

2 comments:

Bozo Monkey Bear III said...

haha. i actually went to a fucking doctor last year because my heart beating all weird. the doctor asked me if i had ever heard of "holiday heart." i hadn't, but i knew exactly what he meant. i guess during the holidays he sees a lot of people with irregular heart beats. it was august when i visited.

RyGar said...

I can see that. Apparently my birthday falls during the week of the year when people with depression suffer the worst (Jan. 20th). I am always unhappy on my birthday. Guess what it's called, Seasonal Affective Disorder, or S.A.D. No joke.