Want to know what’s a really great book? Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. I won’t bore you by retelling a story that everybody knows, beyond reminding you of the basic plot line: brilliant chemist creates a formula that brings out the evil bits of his soul, transforming him from a respected member of society to a barely human and vicious murderer.
Also, it pretty much destroys his manners. Speaking of which…
If I’ve seemed… off… for the last I-don’t know-how-long-exactly, please forgive me, and allow me to explain my actions/behavior with three words.
Friggin’ Stinky Pete.
As I really hope you know by now, Stinky Pete is my tumor. If you didn’t know about all this yet, you ought to jump back and read the last few posts that I’ve blogged, if that’s the proper verb to use there. Otherwise, you’re just going to wind up even more lost/surprised/confuzzled.
Now, where was I? Ah, right. Stinky friggin’ Pete. Well, apparently due to the location in my cranium that ol’ Petey-boy has decided to make his home, not only was my vision affected, but my personality has also been left altered.
Have you ever heard of Phineas Gage? He was a medical miracle in the 19th century after he kind of survived having an iron pole literally shot through his brain. I say “kind of” survived because he wasn’t the same after the accident. Now, I can already hear a lot of you saying, “Well, no crap, he ‘wasn’t the same’, he had a freaking pole blasted THROUGH HIS HEAD. NOBODY would act the same after that.” What I mean to say is that the personality of Phineas Gage somewhat died in the accident. The reason he was so popular to the medical world (other than the whole surviving bit), is that he provided the first documentable proof that who we are as people is controlled by different parts of the brain.
So, if my words have shaped your thoughts the way I have intended, you should be remembering why I was having my blind spells (Stinky Pete and my accumulated spinal fluid were pressing against my optic nerve and other brain tissues) and now thinking, “Hey, wait… so Stinky Pete could be doing to you what the iron pole did to Gage?”
So the skull is me, and the pole is Stinky Pete. Except totally different looking.
Bingo.
Now, I don’t want this post to sound like a cop-out from my behavior or something like that. I am responsible for my actions, whether or not I was aware that I was acting in such a manner (for the record, I was unaware, but more on that later). So now I’d like to apologize for any past offenses that Stinky Pete may have coerced out of me, and for any in the future that my friends and family may receive – I’m sorry. Please be patient with me, because sometimes I can’t tell when it’s happening. Due to this, I’d really appreciate if you guys would subtly drop some hints as I’m going through all this. Seriously, if I seem short-fused or to have lost my (figurative) sense of direction, please don’t hesitate to call me on it. You’d be doing me a favor, because I was never like this, and frankly, I’d really rather not be.
Thanks, guys. And again, I’m sorry.