Newsgroups: bit.listserv.fnord-l
Date:         Sat, 11 Apr 1992 18:13:14 EDT
From:         "Daniel A. Foss" <DFOSS@CCVM.SUNYSB.EDU>
Subject:      How the scientific logic of medical science proves I am Jupiter;
              why this led to call to Akademgorod, Farmstate

   April 5, all you Normal people were in the naational capital city of the
Republic preoccupied with fetal matter, but I for shortage of Drugs couldn't
move my body but nominally. hence required to ingest 7 or 8 NoDoz to stir off
the bed, and so belatedly as 4pm on account of heroic struggle with BLUE
HERRING on ANTHRO-L. Drugless & morally virtuous it takes ten hours to generate
character data in time required in present state of consciousness, which is
Farmstate [FA], in one.
   To kill the headache inevitably consequent upon vastly increased nicotine
ingestion in physical immobility of Drugless condition requires aspirin
overdose; what's TYLENOL by aspirin with a touch of bodyenglish on the molecule
screw it as asprin is 300 pills for a buck. And pillwise there are two and only
two doses for anything, too little and too much; though in certain specific
cases a doctor of medicine may coerce the former for fear you'll do the latter
for fun meaning out the window with Take Your Medicine [Like A Man] not to
mention Swallow The Bitter Pill. Six aspirin is too much, never has the head-
ache not been Gone.
   The first half of the day's NoDoz having sufficed for NY Times purchase plus
hotbeefonroll sandwich copping at Corner Deli, arrived by 6pm at reading quart-
ers, Frank Melville Social and Behavioral Sciences Building Rm North 426. Lay
on the floor, no alternative elsewise inconvenience the books, and preparatory
to to completion of devouring of final 60pp of 842pp turgid scholarly tome much
misblurbed "a gripping read" I decaffeinated with a valium, ate sandwiches,
siesta'd, recaffeinated with 6 more NoDoz, started dripping blood.
   I did finish the book.
   The bloodstained book. Along with most expensive sportjacket, necktie, good-
ly percentage of accumulated cafeteria napkin collection - Kleenex costs money
- on my person.
   "Lindy's Taxi."
   "Handicapped Parking Area SBS to University Hospital Emergency Room, I'm
bleeding."
   [Just across the street to the rightish, but dripping blood from your mouth
is Highly Inappropriate which attracts Campus Public Safety which in turn knows
me since 1982 for Dangerous Drug Abuser with profusely entered dossier for
numerous occasions of Suspicion of Acting Suspicious, which meant in turn Drug
Bust & Search for sure.]
   ****
   The nose jewel of inexpressively lovely and it goes without saying brilliant
Dr. Naqvi threw me. "Where in India are you from? UP? Delhi?" Out of the quest-
ion that the women of warlike Pakistan did such effeminate things. The
matcheless tactility of South Asian women's fingertips - your armenian woman
here is more sensual with an office machine - made for worse.
   "Does that hurt?"
   "Ooo that's so good, more...more."
   Then psychiatric things started happening. Inappropriate behavio[u]r on top
of what usually happens from seizure disorders....Whilst on other side of the
bed I was target practice for 2 med students who, like junkie wife #2 but for
opposite reason couldn't find a vein; the occasion being used for purpose of IV
sticking practice that since I might've lost a spot of blood shooting me with
salzvasser, uh, saline solution wouldn't hurt educationally.
   ********
   THE SPOT
   ********
   Then the nightcreep wheeled me in for the x-rays. Lots of x-rays. Their
objective was to make the x-rays as expensive as possible. Fundamental princi-
ple of medical science working thuswise:
   The charts they had from the household accident 03 Dec 1991 (lower back, but
what the hell, he's paying, take a chest x-ray) showed a spot, presumed a lump,
on right lumg. Dr. Z. in Family Medicine ordered CAT scan which, I having spent
a blissful month under illusion I'd been Saved By Death, hooray, pronounced me
in superb gleaming health.
   We follow this scientific rule scientifically:
   Where a cheaper or, cheaper having been discontinued, MORE AFFORDABLE, test
is Positive BUT a costlier of outandout EXPENSIVE test is Negative, the latter
wins; and all the patient has to do is pay for both.
   Hereat therefore they took enough x-rays to exceed cost of 1 CAT-Scan; which
may however get beat should the Spot in question be once more found as it was
by 2 CAT-Scans or still better 1 CAT-Scan + 1 biopsy. The biopsy is contraindi-
cated by fact I can't afford it, so 1 CAT-Scan plus a little extra something,
tomato, lettuce, onion, mayo, pickle, turns the trick.
   Dr. Naqvi sent me back to Family Medicine which told me. what with the
Depression on and all, the sickness business was so good they were busy till
29 April 10:45am EDT. Which - hopes reviving for SOMETHING for first time since
2 Jan 1992 - was just great cancerwise.
   Hopes dashed once, twice shy. I wasn't going overboard on Big C where other
conjectures imaginable or otherwise abounded. Here is what I'm announcing:
   ******
   I am the god Jupiter hence have a Great Red Spot.
   ******
   To whom announce? Why, to all the phone numbers on my sheet of tattered
yellow paper. What real professionals have in laptops this writer keeps on
that sheet of tattered yellow paper. Each callee would be requested to help
NAME THAT SPOT. Previously I'd used Seymour, but Seyomour was, I'd believed,
a lung mass. This was the Great Red Spot of Jupiter.
   One phone number I'd never called. Belonged to Sandra Basgall, possibly. It
had been there since December or something because I'd told her via e-mail,
"If I'd really wanted to call you I would've called you." This was because I
greatly preferred the imaginary Sandra Basgall to the real, mentally, excuse
me, physically, mentally, agewise, heightwise, weightwise to the other one.
How the imaginary one got such large feet is a long story from WORLD-L@UBVM.
Still, I wanted her entry for the name of the Spot while I was getting a busy
signal from the call to Kingston RI.
   Just to make sure. Dial 411.
   "What state is Area Code 319?"
   "Farmstate."
   "What city is that near?"
   "Are you nuts?"
   "Yes, why don't you start with A."
   "Akademgorod."
   *****
   Russian emigre immigrants, white Hatian economic refugees with the operative
word white. The whole town of Akademgorod, Russia, formerly in the business of
bomb research, had picked up and moved to a place in Farmstate, middlearmenia,
to empty wastebaskets for armenians like Sandra Basgall. The old name of the
place was boring, anyhow.
   "She's not in."
   A lie, she was only answering her Short List. What I'd got was her Gourmet
Food Boutique & Exotic Restaurant Finder with whom, obviously & necessarily,
she had to've been in conference.
   *******
   That, Sandra, is how & why I called you when I'd sworn I never would.

Daniel A. Foss