Day +155 The Amish

I had my last weekly trip to the hospital yesterday. From now on, I only need to go every 2 weeks, and soon it will be only once a month. I have no idea what I'm going to do with the extra time that is now on my hands. I'm so used to waking up on Wednesday and just expecting most of my day to be spent waiting at the hospital.

Oh, and for you other bone marrow transplant patients out there....at five and a half months post transplant, it is STILL not safe to eat spicy Jamaican patties unless you are willing to pay the price out the back door the very next day.

Actually, I'm not too concerned about the liquid fire coming out of my posterior since I've had MUCH worse in my lifetime. Let me take you back to my university years to tell you a story about the "FIRE STICKS"

It was in the formative years of my relationship with Caity that we discovered the fire sticks. We went to the St Jacob's Farmers Market one day for a look around and we came across an Amish deli of sorts. Homemade links of sausages hung from the windows and every sort and variety of smoked, cured meat product was available. Now, I've always loved a hot pepperoni stick and I found a variety called FIRE STICKS on one of the shelves. Being accustomed to false advertising in today's marketplace, I chuckled at the name and handed over my money.

Now, I guess the Amish have never heard of false advertising, because these things were INSANELY HOT!!!!! It was like the Amish sausage maker had learned how to stuff hellfire and brimstone into a meat flavored stick. But that wasn't the worse part. The worst was yet to come, and whether or not I wanted them to the FIRE STICKS would revisit me the next day......at work.

For those of you who didn't know, I had a job in the cash office of a grocery store in Guelph during my university years. The cash office was tucked away in the front corner of the store, and it was a small room with no windows to the outside world. In that room was all of the money the grocery store had on site and it was my job to keep it balanced and organized. Whenever I left the office, I had to lock all of the money up in the safe before I was allowed to leave. It was in this room that I had felt the first signs of gastro-intestinal trouble. Luckily for me, the staff washroom was on the other side of the store which made getting to the washroom in time a very difficult chore. Of course, on the way to the washroom, I got stopped by an elderly woman looking for horseradish. I think that's the hardest I've ever had to clench my butt cheeks together, but we found the horseradish. She probably wondered why I took off in a sprint to the back after we found it, but I didn't care. This was a matter of life and death now.

So after my first bout of liquid fire poo, I returned to the cash office, unlocked the safe, and pulled out all of the cash I was working on, just in time for the next wave of fire poo to hit. I had to lock up all the money again and make it to the washroom...again. This time, I sprinted the entire way, as to avoid as many shoppers as possible. I'm not sure how it was possible, but the second bout of fire poo was worse than the first. This went on for about an hour until my intestines were thourally emptied, and my back end felt like someone gave my butt 1000 paper cuts and then poured Tabasco sauce on it. It was only after I was sure that I was "cleansed" that I phoned the future Mrs. Price. She informed me that she had been going through the same thing and was currently sitting in a cold bath to find relief. We learned that day, to never EVER fuck with the Amish. If that's what they did to their customers, imagine what they could do to their enemies?

I wish the story ended there, but we never threw out the fire sticks. A week later, I was craving meat, and all we had was... you guessed it FIRE STICKS. Without thinking, I ate 2 or three, and then spent the rest of the night sweating and panting like a fool. Both Caity and I had to work the next morning and when Caity came home after her shift and checked the phone messages she heard this message from me.....

"Note to self.........THROW OUT FIRE STICKS!"

Remember folks, never fuck with the Amish, because sooner or later, they'll get you in the end.....