When I was 21 or 22 I had my appendix out. It was interesting because it was a misdiagnosis and when I came to they told me they'd removed a healthy pink appendix. These days the surgery uses a small hole but back then it was a 4" cut and probably a dozen stitches, and way more invasive. You generally spent that night in the hospital, and back then they treated people more generously for pain. Maybe it was the fact that there wasn't any infection that allowed me not to be in too too much pain (the morphine didn't hurt either) after the surgery, but mostly this story came about because I was a hellion. Let's just say I embraced any chance of an adventure.
The surgery was early in the morning and by late afternoon I really didn't feel too bad. I was propped up in the bed reading and watching TV I guess. I'd brought some drumsticks mainly the way someone might bring a stuffed animal, and I felt well enough to drum on the mattress. I was getting a shot every four hours like clockwork, and I'd just had my 6pm shot. I was bored (but high) and wishing I could go out and have a beer or something rather than be in a hospital bed, and then some nice visitors turned things around. A few friends, O's then-girlfriend (now wife) Curran, Mary Luck and someone else I can't remember popped in to say hi. I'd been cutting up a bit with the nurses but friends' company was most welcome.
We were chatting and since it was Friday night I asked them what was going on, and they got quiet. "What's the matter?" I asked. Mary said "Well...we didn't want to tell you but there's a party going on." "Is anyone playing?" "Yes" they said. "Who?" I asked. "Your band." "WHAT?" I said. They told me that a last-minute party came up and they got asked to play. I asked who was playing drums and they said that O' was going to play a few songs and that a couple of our drummer-friends and another guy were going to split the drum chair. They told me that they were going to set up my kit, and whatever guy could play certain types of tunes better would play those, and so forth. "This is just not right" I said. "That's why we didn't want to tell you." "Nope, this won't do."
A gig is sacred. I didn't have a problem with my drum buds playing but with all due respect the music we played was really intense- Zappa, King Crimson, Devo, plus our insane originals, and those guys hadn't had time to learn the tunes much less rehearse. I knew it would be a train wreck if they tried to do any of the heavy tunes, and that was half our shit. I guess they could've jammed on a Dead tune for 45 minutes but I just didn't want to see that happen. On the one hand I'd just had surgery ten hours earlier, but on the other hand, fuck it. To be honest the shot of morphine I'd just had may have had a small part in egging me on but I really wasn't hurting much anyway, and this would be a serious adventure.
Besides getting to a party I knew would be a blast, just getting out of the hospital would be a major challenge. I could've been seen leaving or they might have gone into my room and not seen me and freaked out and put out an APB. I'm glad that didn't happen. I should have thought to leave a note. They weren't scheduled to come back into my room until it was time for my next shot, at 10pm. I knew I had a little under four hours to get there, play as much as possible and then sneak back in. Time was a-wastin'. I started slowly stretching my wrist band.
"What are you DOING?" asked the girls. "You know what I'm doing. I'm bustin' outta this joint. Hand me my jeans please." "You're out of your mind." "I know." I got dressed and took off the gown. Luckily I didn't have an IV or monitors hooked up. Things were a little different back then. These days I'd probably be hooked up to a deal that would flatline on the nurses' screen if I took it off and they'd know something was up. At the time there were few cameras and pretty much ornamental security. I had to try. I worked the wristband off and walked out with the girls.
It was an early party because they had to stop at around 10pm because of noise. We got there around 6:45 and they were getting ready to start. They all got huge grins on their faces when we showed up unannounced. The other drummers were looking at the song list with an "I don't know about this shit" look on their faces, and I think they were as glad as anyone to see me there. I made pleasantries and got behind my kit to adjust things. The rest of the guys were looking at me grinning and shaking their heads. They all knew that if I found out about the party I'd want to be there, and that I was a hellion and minor surgeries couldn't stop me, so they had an informal bet as to whether I'd be there if I found out. Jon and Bert thought there was no way in hell I'd show. Randy thought I might but O' was pretty sure I'd show. He won. That's my boy.
We started the set and played over an hour. The plan was to play two long sets. There were a couple of guys on acoustic who were really good so we figured we'd take a long break and let them play in between sets. It was a great first set and I couldn't help but reflect on the fact that I was supposed to be in a hospital bed staring at the TV. This was much better. I was feeling some minor discomfort but nothing too bad. Our most intense stuff was still to come though. O's brother Michael, who was my buddy and a hell of a prince of a guy, had just had some surgery himself. He noticed that I was wincing a bit, so he offered me a pill. It was Demerol. He'd been given those while he was in the hospital. He'd pretend to take them but he stashed them in a teddy bear. I thought that was classic. He gave one to me.
We figured we'd take about a 25-minute or so break. Our usual routine on breaks was to go out and "get a breath of fresh air" and I figured a puff or two wouldn't hurt. On the way out I ran into a girl who happened to have the same name as me. She was amazing. We'd casually hung out a bit and I really wanted to date her but I wasn't sure she wanted to. Turns out she did. I can't exactly remember how it got to that point, because I was a tad high, but next thing I knew we were in her car and she was performing a service on me that I won't say, but one term for it is represented by two letters of the alphabet and another is the part of the body that sits atop the neck and shoulders. I had to check to make sure I hadn't popped a stitch after that but I was just fine. I didn't tell her I'd just had surgery and luckily she didn't notice the scar. I'd managed to get the bandage off. I doubt what happened would've happened if she'd known. She wouldn't have wanted to hurt me. I saw her more and I told her one night and she gave me a pop on the arm. "Why didn't you tell me you'd just had surgery" she asked. "Did you really think I would?" I asked. "Well...probably not" she agreed.
I knew I wouldn't be able to make it to the end of the party but of course I pushed it as far as I could. I still managed to play about another hour. I handed over the sticks with maybe half an hour to go. We played all the crazy shit and the other guys would have no problem finishing out on some tunes they knew. I left the party at around quarter-til, and that was cutting it close. We pulled up right at ten. I thanked the girls and blew kisses and headed in. It was after visiting hours but nobody bothered me. I got back to the room maybe two minutes before the nurse came in with my 10:00 shot. "You doing okay?" she asked."Great, thanks" I said. "You good too?" I asked. "Yep. You get some rest." " Okay. See ya."
There's a local station that's been playing M*A*S*H reruns at 10pm for about 40 years, so if the TV was on you always knew it was 10:00 without looking at a clock. Lots of people watched it and I heard the theme song coming from another room just as I entered mine, and I hoped I wouldn't walk in and see the nurse holding up a shot but with no one to stick it in. Luckily she was a minute or two late. I sat there as the shot kicked in, on top of Michael's little gift. As I said things were different back then, and believe it or not you could smoke in hospital rooms. I'd brought along my pinch-hitter and some choice flower in case I got really bored. Back then the windows would actually open too, and so I hit a few bats and looked at the city lights. I had to laugh at what had taken place over the last four hours.
I'd gotten to play a great gig and I'd hooked up in a big way with a girl I was really interested in. The morphine had really kicked in so I laughed some more. That had been a true adventure, and the best thing about it was that it was totally unplanned. Oh, and they handed me a hundred-dollar bill on my way out. Back then that wasn't a bad amount of money. We actually made $150 each but I docked myself $50 and told them to split it between the other drummers for giving up their time to help us out, not to mention moving my drums. They were pretty happy about that. Well, that's my appendix story. I'll put it up against anyone's.
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