Okay, tomorrow, I leave for Vanderbilt for the MRIs to map out my brains and then I get a good eight hour surgery on Friday morning. They have to know where to slice and dice.

SEND ME THINGS



Robert Kuhn
4134 Mitchell Road
Cleveland, TN 37312






We talked to the doctor today. They're going in and removing all of it. The neurosurgeon spoke with seven others and decided for a total recovery and removal. Awesome. It's huge. I'll need occupational therapy after it is all over with.

I have Netflix, a bandana, aviator sunglasses, a computer that doesn't charge, a supportive/loving family.

I'm not afraid.

BRING IT ON WORLD.

If you haven't noticed, I'm already losing some touch with reality. I think it's some of the Decadron. It has caused me to gain so much weight. I can't wait to get rid of it. bleh. I feel Sicilian.

What I do know about my stay at Vanderbilt Medical Center:

Not much.


My surgery is going to be September 12th. I'll go into more depth about the insanity that is going to be the surgery, what my tumor is like and pictures of the MRIs, CAT Scans, X-Rays and impending malpractice against Tulane Hospital.


My physical address:

4134 Mitchell Road
Cleveland, TN 37312
USA

As far as I know, I have no address at the hospital but my parents will, obviously, switching out every-other-day. I believe I'll have friends coming to visit me as well. (Holla atcha Scooter.) They'll be bringing me things. At the fastest, I'll remain in ICU for a week. They're very lax when it comes to guests, oddly enough, when I'm recovering.

The blogspot I'm working on is at follows:

http://whensaturnrings.blogspot.com

Or is it blogger? You know, that thing.

Netflix just sent me a free trial of 6 movies, out of the blue, for two weeks. AWESOME. Anyone else have a similar deal? Or a power cord for an iBook G4 powerbrick? /me bats eyes

If you want to look up something scary, look up one of the medications they have me on. I'm on high doses and it caused weight gain.. just bloated tummy kind. Ethiopia. Decadron, if I'm not mistaken. Wikipedia it. Jesus.

Write me letters while I'm in the hospital. I'll be lonely. I actually plan on keeping all this and writing something. I'll go into detail in the blogspot/blogger as to why.

Catch you on the flip.

xo,
bob

I'm going to just add a conglomerate of posts I have made through Facebook and LiveJornal until I have some more substantive news to update with.

I haven't left for Vanderbilt yet. That should occur in.. a few days?

I forgot that home is nice for a visit I need my own bedroom and laptop cable. It'd be nice if my parents would stop bitching at me or every little thing that pops up. aiya.

Sorry, the power went out and ruined my brownies. Sorry, I don't have a job because I had to leave it because I have a kumquat in my head.
grumble grumble.

I'm not allowed to drive.

New Orleans hasn't sent up my records to Vanderbilt so I'm not sure when my biopsy will be.

Lets see here.

I'm now in Tennessee. Leaving New Orleans blew and was a little upsetting. It rained the entire trip and a box of my electronics got wet, namely my power cord for my laptop. Back to square one for me! So, uhm, any extra power cords up for donations?

The family's not used to having a cat around, much less one as smart as Apollo. I'm loving it. He's very possessive.

It kind of sucks here. I have no money, I can't drive and all my friends are 500+ miles away. boo.

They have me on this anti-inflammatory medication for my brain mass and jessgod, it makes me so sick.

My brother ate all my Hubig Pies. Now I have to wait until January for a restock. aiya.Lets see here.

I'm now in Tennessee. Leaving New Orleans blew and was a little upsetting. It rained the entire trip and a box of my electronics got wet, namely my power cord for my laptop. Back to square one for me! So, uhm, any extra power cords up for donations?

The family's not used to having a cat around, much less one as smart as Apollo. I'm loving it. He's very possessive.

It kind of sucks here. I have no money, I can't drive and all my friends are 500+ miles away. boo.

They have me on this anti-inflammatory medication for my brain mass and jessgod, it makes me so sick.

My brother ate all my Hubig Pies. Now I have to wait until January for a restock. aiya.

You're welcome to visit if you're inclined to do so. I have nothing to do.

Quite obviously, this is in no order whatsoever. I'll put it into one once I get around to do doing so. :]



My head hurts. You'll be lucky and see me degrade into.. whatever I degrade into.. until I cease to do so.

In true Robert Kuhn fashion, I'll have pictures.. once I have cables and power for my laptop.

xo,
bob

I'm using fake names because all the parties involved use LiveJournal and could, at any time, join the community, thus making friends-only useless.

So my ex-friend "Emily" had a vertical clitoral hood piercing. If you don't know what that is, go to http://www.nolatattoo.com and click yes. Go to piercings and pick the female naughty area.

Well, she loved this piercing more than anything. Running up stairs was the best experience of her life. Walking back from the piercing parlor, she had an orgasm from it. Well, during one sexual foray, as she was a huge slut, the boy "Zack" was going down on her. "Emily" put her hands on his head, which startled him, and caused him to jerk his head back. When doing so, he ripped the piercing out.

During all of this, I was in an Amnesty International meeting giving a speech, as I am the chair of the Stop Violence Against Women Committee. Everyone involved with the tragedy couldn't get ahold of me as my cellphone was turned off and I was too busy bitching to a crowd of about 200 people. They needed me to drive her to the hospital. Our mutual friend "Mary" was dragged into the ordeal and quite traumatized by it. She found a car and took her to the hospital, where the doctor said "Oh, it'll be fine. No need for stitches because it'll heal on its own. Here's some vicodin." Um, what?

A few days had passed and her conditioned had worsened. She had become dangly from the incident. After speaking with the emergency campus nurse, "Emily" called me and I took her to Tulane Hospital. She was taken in immediately and when the doctor saw her shattered pussy, she gasped. We were then sent to another hospital where they had an emergency gyno on call. Such a thing exists? After waiting for six hours while she was being seen, she came out and we headed to my car. She started sobbing and said the doctor told her there was nothing they could do because the first doctor didn't stitch her up. She would have to wait until the dangles turned black and fell off. Then she said something that made me very, very mad. Something personal that I won't say. So I took the bumpiest roads back. If you have ever been to New Orleans, all the roads are bumpy. But I know where the bumpiest are.

I don't even have a vagina and that makes me squirm.

About a week had passed and the dangles had fallen off when the doctor called back and told her there was something they could do. So, being the great friend I am, I took her back to the hospital. They told her that a new vagina could be created through reconstructive surgery, as her pussy was shattered. On a side note, she didn't stop having sex. An appointment was made and the doctor asked her what kind of labia she'd like. How sweet.

The appointment was during a class I could not miss, so I lent her my car. She went in, they numbed her up some, took out a razor blade, and shaved off the nasty, rough bits and created a nice, lovely vulva. (I should have been using the word vulva the entire time, as the vagina is the opening and the canal, but I digress.) They gave her more vicodin, put her on pelvic rest, and sent her back all strung out. Laws? What laws?

So "Emily" had her a brand new vagina. She then lied about being raped by my tattooist (I know he didn't.) to get a medical withdraw from school. She had a "breakdown" because someone had touched her brand new vagina while she was on pelvic rest. Okay, she was having sex the entire time. With multiple partners. So she left, leaving "Mary" and me to pack up her room. Turns out "Emily" didn't clean up any of the blood or anything. Well, we did everything.

So kids, don't get a VCH piercing and have someone rip it out. Especially if people secretly hate you because you're a pathological liar and a whore!

She was offended when I put a towel down when I took her to the hospital. She was wearing a mini-skirt with no underwear.

She got it repierced. SHE FUCKING GOT SCAR TISSUE PIERCED.

I guess this will explain a lot. Necrosis had set in due to the resulting infection. She didn't take care of her ladybits (and I do mean bits. HAH.) and the infection caused necrosis, which spread down the labia. She basically had gangrene.

I'm not quite sure what I'll post on here yet. Most likely radio show playlists, political rants, satire, and the like. We'll see. I don't want it to turn into another livejournal.

http://misoconfused.livejournal.com

You can add that if you have the means possible.