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The moment of a lifetime
Is there ever a pleasant trip to the hospital? Even if you are droping off some paperwork, you are reminded of past disturbances and your own mortality. We didn’t expect an extended stay in Paramus, but here we are. Donny’s accident at the show is all we can think about as well as the imagery of the ominous puddle of blood on the stage. It certainly is not the way any of us expected our very first show to end, but this band and unpredictability go hand in hand. The show is just a lost memory swallowed by moment in time. A moment that stands still as Donny hasn’t responded for the past twenty-four hours.
The severe abrasion and blood loss have the doctors searching for more complicated answers. Shill has been keeping us informed and has shown great fortitude and support for us. We have been wearily stationed in a prototypical waiting room for 24 hours. We anticipate some news of our dear friend and hope the verdict is a positive one. It starts out as some fun on facedbook and now I sit with my stomach churning in a hospital waiting room. Life always has the knack of making itself so interesting, especially when it pulls in your emotions.
I hope Donny gets better soon. I really want to hear what he has to say about his doctor’s name. His doctor here at the hospital is Dr. Meat. No, that is his real last name and how he survived the medical school jokes is beyond me. Donny would have a field day with that one. If he ever heard the name “Dr. Meat,” I’m sure he could probably come up with a dozen great comebacks even in a comma.
Meat’s stocky build and rotund physique are clear signs that his name has not influenced his consideration of the Atkins diet.
Every time Shill or Dr. Meat walked in the room we all perk up for a second in anticipation of some positive news but there hasn’t been any to speak of. They won’t let visitors in the room as they keep running tests, scans, and additional blood work. It’s amazing how close our friendships have grown in the short time we’ve been a part of Onion Dent.
How can you care so much but be referred to only as a “visitor?”
Shill somehow pulled some strings and worked out a ten-minute visit for the group. He thought it was worth the chance of stimulating Donny to respond to our voices or some dramatic change in his environment. We shuffled in to an unflattering and disturbing visual of our friend. A bandaged head, more wires in him than our soundboard, and the toughest part was the missing smile. It was difficult to hold back a tear as such an expressive and positive person lay there motionless.
Dr. Meat offered simple instructions “just be yourselves when you talk to him, he may be listening.” It gave us some hope and allowed us to concentrate on the purpose of our visit. We slowly gravitated in our own space trying to think of a strategy and what to say. It was like approaching a new situation for the first time. Those tentative tread cautiously and unsure. After a few silent moments, Iam started things off “Donny there’s no way we’re going to let you wear that on stage.” Jerry followed “ you know you can cut the shit this attention seeking activity has got to stop.” Joe was next “thanks for F’ingup my sax solo.” The jokes couldn’t hide the painful disappointment and his state of unresponsiveness made it seem hopeless. We didn’t say a word and just stood in our shoes without any reason. As we lifted our heads up and made eye contact we decided to exit the room by Joe pointing to the door which we slowly migrated to. Nicole looked like she was in deep thought and before following our decent, she leaned over to Donny’s ear and whispered an imitated counted-off to a song “one-two-three-four.” She stood and looked at his face for a minute and turned away disappointed and faced the door. She was about to turn the handle and exit when we heard a low registered voice “what a sorry sack of sappy shits.” We all turned toward the hospital bed to see the open eyes and slight shit eaten’ grin of a freshly resurrected Donny. We all shuffled over with huge smiles, followed by hugs and hand shakes. We then shared a common sigh of relief, and an uncontrollable tear.
Joe broke the melancholy moment and we followed with the usual antics “don’t worry you didn’t miss a thing. I’m sure Ringo and Sting will be back to see you again soon.” When you were in a comma, we lifted your gown and took a peek, we wanted something to remember you by.” “We thought the pictures of your ass would be perfect for the first album cover.” “If you notice any marks on your private parts, it’s only because we poked it with a stick to try to wake you up.” “We got a great new band picture, we all gathered round your Chia pet.” “I hope you like my name, it’s gonna be on your nuts for a while.” Donny smiled and pointed his finger toward us “it’s good to be back my friends.”
Shill ran into the room and hugged Donny to the point of turning on a distress signal with a distinct alarm that brought half the hospital staff running in the room. The managing nurse took a look at Shill with one leg on the floor and the other on Donny. “You two want me to get the Justice of the Peace, you make a lovely couple. Sir, could you please dismount the patient, he’s still hospital property.” We all laughed like wild and considered recruiting Nurse Crusher into the group. Donny was groggy and subdued but he was there, laughed along, and it was magic.
We left the hospital and Shill provided us with a floor of hotel suites loaded with food and a well stocked bar. By the way Shill mounted Donny, we could tell he was in a celebratory mood. We were all exhausted, but were in more of a party mode than to sleep, so that’s what we did. The guitars were uncased and Nicole added some percussion, as this was a jam session for the ages. We started the digital recorder to archive the spontaneous and energetic performance. It didn’t end until all of our nervous energy dissipated and the next day’s sun came up. Luckily we ruled on an isolated floor of the hotel to house this musical rodeo.
The next day after sleeping in and peeling our eyelids open, we did a buffet lunch at the hotel restaurant. We were stuffing our faces and siting around the table when Shill sashayed into the room and approached our table. He smiled and slightly tilted his head. “That show got a lot of press. The outpouring of concern for Donny is overwhelming. The people who attended the show are being interviewed in the news and have a lot of interest in Donny’s return and seeing you finish a proper show, and there’s more.
I got some big news for you. I got a phone call from an old friend of mine, Iian Hunter. He’s been following the story and would like to help us make this next show a special event. Onion Dent will perform as the opening act followed by being the backing band for Iian Hunter’s set in a rock extravaganza at the Media. “Shill you mean the Media, the new and state of the art amphitheater in Maine? Iam asked. “That’s the one my friend.”
We were filled with excitement but had some obvious questions in turn “isn’t Iian Hunter like 100 years old?” “Does AARP sponsor the show? “ “Does he need a special stand for his colostomy bag?” Does he have bladder control or does he piss when he sings” Jerry had the key question “can he still bring it?”
“You’ll find out next week, just be ready because he takes his profession very, very serious. You have rehearsals next week and the mammoth show in a month.” I have you all set up and will take care of everything. It’s going to be big.” “Shill do me one small favor,” I asked. “What’s that?”
“Make sure the house lights are the only ones that come down this time.” “Will do Dom, will do.”
Copyright © 2010 Domenick Cassise. All rights Reserved Worldwide.
(Check back for more installments that continue the story)
Onion Dent is a work of fiction and any similarities to persons living or dead is purely coincidental.