Ecstatic... Pumped up... Ready for some major catharsis...
That's a pretty accurate description of how I was when this tour was announced back in December. I bought the tix for one of the Troubadour shows right away-- sure, I could have caught Napalm Death and the Melvins here in SD on separate nights, but I figured I'd go all out; plus it's been a while since I've been up to LA.
Days before the show, I was chomping at the bit with excitement. I was about to see arguably two of the most influential bands in extreme music. I had nearly had the chance to see Napalm Death at Deathfest, but had opted to see some more obscure black metal instead, knowing the grind giants would be coming around eventually. The announcement of the Savage Imperial Death March (best tour name ever) gave me new hope and as May 8th drew closer, I was ready to fuckin' rage.
But then on the night of the 7th, shit went down. About 10 o'clock at night, I was suddenly overcome with a burning sensation like a molten lava was being poured down my guts. I had the urge to relieve myself, but nothing would come out. There was only pain; fire in the belly, torment with each movement, and what can only be described as an extreme ache in my genitals. Sweat poured from my forehead like Victoria Falls. It was time for the ER.
When I got in, I was in such bad shape they took me in immediately. My blood pressure was really low and I started vomiting. Nurses stuck me full of IVs to kill the pain, slid a tube up my nose and down my throat to my stomach to suck up the bile and other shit, and had me undergo a CT scan. I was told I had a blockage in my intestines. It was so bad that a part of my bowels bad basically died because it suffocated from a lack of oxygenated blood; that's pretty fuckin' metal. So the next day, I'd be going under the knife when I had hoped to be heading out on the highway for a night of crushing tunes.
The hospital is a pretty metal place. Carcass and plenty of goregrind bands can attest to that. My visit had its moments: surgical steel slicing me open, hours of mind-numbing pain, my own personal Hell of sleepless nights with no stimulation. My surgical wound was (and right now still is) left open so that it could heal on its own so every couple days when the dressing was changed I'd be staring at an eleven inch, bright red gash in my guts.
On a hilarious note, my body pulled a GG Allin during my hospital stay. My digestive system needed to reboot so I didn't have a bowel movement until five days after the surgery. Now and then, I'd feel pressure down below when I had to piss. During those times, I'd call the nurse for a bedpan but the feeling would disappear almost immediately. If my body was gonna start shitting again, it was gonna do it in a way socially unacceptable. "It has to be done," I told myself. "It's for the greater good..." And that's how you justify pooping yourself.
This whole Crohn's fiasco has been a rough business. It needs to get under control if I'm to live comfortably and-- more importantly-- pursue my metal goals. I've had nothing but joy working for Brick by Brick and am eager to prove myself and learn the business side of things. There's lots of bands I'd love to try to bring to town and have been mulling over ideas for a blackened metal fest here. It is extremely disappointing being out of commission for the next month; meeting people while flyering and meeting fellow metalheads at shows is a treasure. Pissed as all Hell I've missed out on Napalm Death again, but shit happens. There'll be another time I'll get to see these legends.
So while all this is going on, I'll try to turn my attention more to this blog. Gotta find my footing here. Definitely have some more Metal Metal Land segments in store for you as well as some other topics of discussion. We'll see what happens. Just wanna throw a question out there to my readers: any of you have any medical shit that makes enjoying shows difficult? Any stories as to why you missed out on a gig?
Stay heavy, my friends!
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