<<PS: I never knew they had motels in Florida!!!>> It has been over a decade but the wife and I used to go to south florida every year. In the Ft. Liquordale (lauderdale) area, along the beach, they used to have dozens and dozens of cheap motels built in the 50's. They had them along the beach for like 50-60 a night and just down the street, perpendictular to the beach, they had really cheap ones. My last trip there was only a very few of the old 3-4 story '50's motels on the beach but plenty of the cheap ones just a block from the beach. The beach front was being filled with highrise, high dollar, hotels. I had a quarter oz of coke in the wall of the room I had rented and left it there for the next trip but I am sure they tore it down by now. The last room we got was on the beach and built like an apartment with a kitchen. It was a little newer. I had to leave to other one because even though I had gone down there to get extra oxyconin from a friend/dealer I witnessed a sale of an oz of coke that sold for 500.00. I hadnt done coke since a problem 20 years earlier, where I got sick of it and quit, leaving KC for several years. The large number of people in the room had been taken notice of from the staff and I began to get paranoid. After everyone had left I was alone with 100 oxy eighties and an oz of coke. I paid 700.00 for the 95% pure. The 500.00 oz was 85%. I had tried some while there alone, after 20 years and after smoking some pot which I had given up too. The coke left me feeling just like I did when I did it last 20 years earlier - paranoid, sick, and feeling like I just might die. I got a knock at the door but didnt answer it. Soon after I heard keys in the lock and in came a male maid or maintaince guy, looking left to right. I told him to leave and was left feeling sure that I was going to get raided by either the police or a bunch of junkies. That was on the third floor of the 50's hotel. I first hid everything, then thought twice and just left the place for another place on the Harley I usually rent when we go there. This was the place with the kitchen. I kept trying the coke and spent the night trying to pack the coke in a safe way to get home on a jet. I had bought some large candles in glass. I carved them out half way, put in the coke in cardboard tobacco containers, the melted the wax I had taken out and poured it back in. They looked good. We were too afraid (paranoid) to leave so we ended up opening two of the five candles to get more coke. We had been up several nights but took the bike out for a ride for the day anyway. My wife couldnt stay awake so I had to take a rope and tie her to me so wouldnt fall off. I would of lost her twice if not for the rope. Once her head was about 2 feet off the ground. We spent half the day trying to find our way back. We got lost in a bad part of town. I did find the bike dealership where i had rented the fat bob. We set up our get away by renting a car next to the airport and driving back to the second motel to wait for the next am. We had opened another candle and did coke and pills through out the night. They kept calling to get us out the next morning and we kept trying to do up the rest of the coke we didnt have packed. Finally, while the taxi was honking out front, we were two hours past check out, I took the case of drinking water we had bought and just poured the last of the coke into 3 of the 24 bottles. Since it was pure, and i got the caps back on good you couldnt tell the difference. I only had a corner of the plastic tore from the case so I fished out most of the bottles and put the ones with coke in the middle under the plastic then replace the rest - still leaving 23 bottles of water. The 2 remaining candles were in my loaded luggage. The water would ride on our lap. We got in the taxi for the car rental place near the airport. We kept a little coke out for the ride back to do in the car. We had some time so we rented the second car, leaving the other abandoned with a phone call, and drove around doing shots. My wife was having trouble getting a vein so she had to drop her pants to work on her leg. We hit a road block vehicle check while her pants were down and she was working on a shot. She kept working franticly to get the shot, and did, just as we were the next to be questioned. She dropped the used syringe between the seats with the dozen or so others and kept the opened atlas over her lap. I was doing a good job of talking to the officier. I had found the receipt for the bike rental and showed it to him; told him we were looking for the car rental place so we could catch our plane. I had us out of there after he had given me directions but then the wife got real chatty (having just taken some coke). She started asking about what the stops were for (were they for coke mules?), small talk about south Florida winters, etc. Rather that suspisious he got bored and just waved us on.
We dropped the car and had walked half the 10 blocs to the airport when I remembered I had not cleaned the car out. It was full of used needles. We ran back and got to the car just as it was in line for a clean out. I was able to get the car back, pull it out of line to get what I said was a lost item or two. They were standing near by to take the car back for the cleanup line so I had to stick loose needles, caps, bloodly tolite paper, etc. into my socks. They were sticking me but I must of got them all. We walked away with me in considerable pain from the exposed needles in my sock. A block away we ditched them and had to run to the airport. We were carrying our luggage, the case of water, and some loose stuff. We made up a couple of syringes for the airport while we waited and another for the airplane bathroom. This was the '90's so taking this into the airport, late for a plane, was not too much a big deal.
The upshot was that we made it
It has been 10 days now and this was when I was told the problem would be pretty much over. I am on medicare so the after care was non-existent. I was released 30 minutes after I awoke from a 2.5 hour surgery where they did a hemerrhoiditimy x2, a prostate exam, and a colonistipy (where they pump you full of air and inspect your colon) They found 4 fairly large polyps and burned them off. They then, evidently, put a dozen or more shots of local killer all around the area they operated on. That was how they were able to get me to walk out of there. They told me to get in the tub when I got home and the packing they had put in my butt would come out. I knew some packing, maybe all of it, had come out at the hospital when I took my first urination. When I got in the tub I was frantic to get packing out (that was not there). My wife fortunatly took the fork away from me. I could feel down there and it was very unfamiliar to what I had been used to feeling down there when I was in pain. What I felt and saw in a little 2x4" makeup mirror was a shaved anal area with swollen areas from my anus to my hips. I was digging at what looked to be a white packing the size of a tampon ... it was just the sides of my crack. The must of shot a bunch of liquid painkiller around my anus. It has been 10 days now and about 1/2 has finally absorbed, but the whole area just hangs there like a water balloon. When I try and sleep on my side it drifts to the gravity and has caused bruising on both hips. I had to have my wife help with an enema on the third day or so and she told be my whole butt was black, my scrotum was black, my prostate area was black, and which every side I slept on would be dark with blood settling
I have that extra problem with being addicted to pain killers since 89 when I fell from an eighty foot or so cliff (drunk off my ass).
I have been in a vicious cycle of drinking diet Dr. Pepper, water, and juice with metalax plus a stool softener pill, forcing a small stringy dump, around what feels like is a blockage from the two bagels with cheese and bacon I ate after my first bowel movement on the third or forth day. I feel like what I have eaten since then, pinto beans and hamhocks w/cornbread, oatmeal, and bran cereal, out around the blockage. I just cant push out anything bigger than those stringy pieces of crap. I dont want to push hard because it causes knife (12"
feelings up my ass (sharp pains every 15-20 minutes) after a hard push. It might be from the removed polyps.
I feel like this has been a real stuggle for life. While you often have a surgery and just have to lay back and relace a day or three in the hospital to get better in this case you have to force yourself to get up, move around, force the pain, or die. My wife keeps asking me go go bck to the hospital but i tell her they are just going to ask me to do the same and the added stress of an alien enviourment is not what i need.
My stratedgy of eating little, puttin off the bowel movements with pain killers until it does not hurt so hard to push, has worked out. Today I can push without the kind of pain which puts me in despire and I have to take more pain killers...
One weird side effect of this surgery, and your vision of getting kicked between the legs with an army boot works well, is that my prostate feels tickelish and I keep getting unprovioked erections all day long. I have tried masturbating to shake up the feces, and that works, but unless I have vaginal orgasim with my wife I cannot have a full orgasim. A backed up orgasim is very painfull.
Chafing between the cheeks, to be avoided, has been done with cleaning up with a warm wet washcloth (soaked and just pushed into place while I staddle the tub), then folding a soft washcloth in half and holding it between my swollen cheeks until dry. I then put a small amount of vasoline in the crack to help with the hair stubs growing back and the many, many, stitches. It also makes cleanup easier after a movement.
Thanks for the input, hope you enjoy the stories of this other trip...I got a million of them. Gary