Frightening Grant Wahl news

I spend a third of my weekdays at work (which is now at my dining room table.) I’m not aiming to face plant for the final time into my keyboard but if it happens, so be it. I do honorable work to support myself and my kids and my life isn’t going to be any less meaningful because the end didn’t come on the beach or mountaintop.

 

The only thing on this planet that frightens me is anesthesia.
I have been shot at, in hurricanes, fires, tangled with wild animals, broke, hungry, woke up in bushes, and bitten by snakes.
I had to have an endoscopy a couple of years ago and literally cried when they were wheeling me in.
Anesthesia scares me because I don't want to go to sleep and wake up dead.

 

Brown recluse spiders.

ALS.

That’s the list.

 

My first surgery was at 39 and I had the same anesthesia fear. Gone under the knife a couple times since, still not thrilled about it.

 

Anesthesia is a mindfuck. Had surgery last year for the first time (at a far older age than Wicked) and it still boggles my mind, Like, one second I was awake and the next thing I know I'm coming to in a recovery room hours later having been, you know, operated on?

The one that really blows my mind is the good stuff they put you on for a colonoscopy. Knocks the ever-loving shit out of you, and 60-90 minutes later, you're awake and leaving (with someone else driving, granted, but still).

 

ALS and dementia. Those scare me to death.

Fuck, what a terrible pun. Sorry, didn't mean it.

I'd seriously consider assisted suicide then.

 

When I was 18 I had a near death experience (hit by a car on a training ride, cardiac arrest, about 6 minutes dead before a man named Michael Lewis (no not that one) gave me CPR)… and I’d be OK dying that way again - painless, instant, no recollection of anything.

 

We’re all going to get to the pearly gates and find out Michael Lewis has been embedded there and writing a book on the way God sorts through all of humanity’s sin in a way we never expected.

 

When I die, I want die like my grandfather. Peacefully, in his sleep.

Not like the three passengers in his car.

I'll show myself out.

 

Still no RIP in the thread title.

We must be frightened still.

 

I passed out at home recently, went to the hospital and woke up in a recovery room after they removed my appendix. No recollection of anything - my frantic family, the ambulance, arriving at the Hosptial, or tests.

 

When I was a comic I'd joke that when I died I wanted my last words to be, "alright I just got the light so I'm gonna get out here."