Michael and Evo: Wingin’ It!

George sez:

How can you POSSIBLY have a fat priest? That’s like having a priest that publicly shows off his cock ring.

Some things defy context.

The Crew is off to visit Joe down in Tucscon.

Alan Smith sets up a voicemail number for Joe well wishers! Call in and give Joe well wishes, get well thoughts, read him a story, read him some PORN, act out porn, breathe heavy! 206-202-5179. Please show Joe LOVE and give a call. 206-202-5179.

Please also donate to the “Kill Kuato” fund by clicking on the button located on the right hand side. All donations are VERY VERY appreciated and will help Joe out with some of the costs related to his surgery.

The plan is to be back next week with Joe in the studio. Our thanks to everyone for their generosity and good thoughts for Joe.

 

 Wingin' It #94: Gone to visit Joe! [3:26m]: Play Now | Play in Popup | Download (681)

It’s noon here on Tuesday, and Joe has finally been moved (or is in the process of moving) into his own room. He’s out of ICU and we’re looking at a late-this-week total release for him.

And a note for all you intrepid well-wishers out there: please don’t break out your Sherlock Holmes outfit and track down the hospital and room number for a personal call. That could get out of hand real quick. He’s got major stitches to heal and the last thing you want to be responsible for is having him rip ‘em wide open lunging to get your call.

So hold the calls, or better yet call the line set up for well-wishes: 206-202-5179

Just a quick note to confirm what most people know. There will be no voicemail show this week. We took the time to go visit Joe down in Tucson while he was recovering from his surgery.

Big thanks to Alan Smith for setting up a phone in number for everyone to leave a voicemail for Joe. The voice mail number is 206-202-5179. Give it a call and leave your well wishes, read Joe a story, breathe heavy or just talk.

Alan will be gathering all of these voicemails up and burning them on CD for Joe, so there is no limit to the length of message you can leave.

We expect to be in full force next week.

I got a chance to see Joe briefly on Sunday. And by “I”, I’m of course referring to me, Sheila, NJ, Mike, Lorrie, Kris of cheesecake fame and James, yet another random extended family member of Mike’s who was staying at his house.

He was still in ICU with the hopes of moving to a room sometime today. I’ve not touched base with anyone today, so I’m going on the assumption that he has moved.

Big kudos to the ICU nurse who closed the curtain to the room and let all of us pile in there for an extra 30 minutes. The only reason Joe is/was still in ICU was pain management issues. And it’s a lot nicer to have a nurse five feet away when you need an extra hit of morphine than one that is at the end of a hall worried about some other patient who’s soiled her sheets — again.

All things considered, he looks good and is in good spirits. They did get him up and out of bed before we got there — a critical milestone towards getting out of ICU. He reported that it wasn’t very fun and hurt like hell, but he did it.

More tomorrow, or at any point when I receive updates. We’re hoping he’ll be out of the hospital by the weekend.

8:01 AM MST

Joe’s dad, Bob, called me this morning. Joe came out of surgery around midnight and is currently recovering in ICU. Since they didn’t take anything more than a big chunk of Kuato out of him, he’ll probably only spend a few days in the hospital. Bob says the doctors should have some information about the tumor and a course of treatment by Tuesday. I’d imagine that they won’t release him from the hospital until they have that information.

Joe talked to his dad earlier when we woke up. He’s scared, but recovering. Hell… we’re all scared.

I’m going to find some time this weekend to drive down and see him. I’ll report again after that.

10:15 PM MST

Final update for tonight. Mike called me an hour ago, and I’ve been pondering what to write. So here goes.

The prognosis is pretty shitty. The operation is over and the doctors have decided that Joe’s cancer is inoperable. Hey — now you have an “i” word to hate.

It’s spread in too many places, is invading too many organs and has found too healthy of a blood supply. Cutting it out would simply endanger Joe, so there’s no point. They took a sizeable chunk out for for further study. With luck, this particular variety is vulnerable to either chemo or radiation therapy — cuz the knife isn’t the right tool for this job.

Docs say that he should be out and back home in a couple of days. Pray, cuss, rant, rave. Do what you need to do. With luck, there are therapies which will be helpful. More on that in the coming weeks/days when we know more and tests come back.

6:30 PM MST

More updates from TusconTucson. Seems that the prep is taking quite a while. This isn’t just some simple knock-out-let’s-go situation. He’s got a few parsecs of lines, drips and hoses inside of him now and is about to get an epidural. Guess those things take time.

The surgeon just spoke with Mike and said that this can go anywhere from four to eight hours. He fully expects to wind up having to take out a few important organs, like a kidney and probably the spleen, including a decent amount of the bowel.

At best, we’re looking at midnight before they stitch him up. They’ll likely keep him zonked until Saturday, so we won’t have anything else to report until then. So sleep well, think happy thoughts, and we’ll resume in the morning.

6:03 PM MST

Oh, how I love the marvels of modern medicine. We can wipe out smallpox, but we can’t figure out what the big hand and the little hand mean.

Joe has not been taken in for his procedure yet. He’s prepped. He’s ready. And 1.5 hours ago, Mike had been informed that he was in surgery. But Mike was just told that no, he hadn’t been taken yet and was still waiting.

Did I mention I hate waiting?

4:20. How appropriate for the time they start sticking tubes inside of him with all kinds of happy juice. It’s serendipity, I tell you.

Looks like we’re about to start. Cut straight, ya bastards!