Post by Ross Hanson on Oct 7, 2021 2:02:04 GMT
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Two Days Ago
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I have a lot of problems in my life with women. Fortunately, most of them have the same solution and said solution only requires me to do one thing: have some patience. But the problem I’m facing today, there is not enough patience in the world that is going to solve it.
“Come on in, Mr. Hanson.”
I was expecting this place to be completely grey and empty, but they have a nice green and blue going on with the grey as well. It's a nice touch. Then again, this is also their main intake. So I haven't even gotten to the floor that Mom's on yet.
“Sorry I hadn’t been here sooner, I have been busy with work.”
That’s not a lie. I’ve been on more planes in the past three months to last me three lifetimes, and thank God some companies tape their shit early and not everyone goes live or else I’d be missing some dates. But to be honest with you, I could have had the last three months off and I’d still be dreading this day.
“So how’s it going with her?”
After we finished the handshake, he waves for me to follow him. If I get too far behind I will get lost and probably wind up getting booked into a room by accident.
“I’ll take you up to her floor. I have to use my keycard to let you in anyway.”
"So what is all of this? I didn't know you had long term care here…"
"We didn't until about five or six years ago. But then the guys who run this place...you know, the ones who only come here a couple times a year…"
Whoa, sharp right turn there dude...I almost ran straight into an exam room. And from what I could see and hear from the window and crack in the door respectively, it wasn't something I would have wanted to walk in on. And I've walked in on two men fucking.
"Long story short, we not only have long term care as well as crisis and behavioral units, we can do outpatient treatment as well. And we can keep all of these on separate levels, totally isolated from each other save a few staff lifts."
"Very nice...and it's right here in the city too. Good location...I remember this originally being some kind of super secret guarded up business tower…"
"Yeah? Did you ever get inside?"
"Couldn't even get in the parking lot. This place was sealed up tight. First time I ever even saw the fences come down was when y'all got a hold of it, and by then I was living upstate."
The doctor and I continue through the maze that is (according to a sign out in the front lobby) one of the largest mental health facilities in the state of Ohio, now complete with permanent housing.
"We're almost to the elevator. Since your stepmom falls under the “maximum security” category, we’ll be going down an elevator into a very secure area."
"You have an underground facility?"
"It was already here when we bought the building. Nobody knows what it was used for. I just know we turned it into a place where we could care for these patients without risking them escaping the unit. It's one thing when somebody detoxing from Xanax gets caught trying to get into the pharmacy. It's another when a violent psychopath holds a staff member hostage with a surgical blade."
Dude is swiping his name badge at the door, and I'm trying to understand exactly what the hell is going on.
"Let's get right down to it. You called me, and said I needed to get down here. What the hell is going on?"
The doctor held the door open, motioning for me to enter first.
"As I'm sure you know, your stepmother came to us already showing several behavior changes that you told us weren't normal. She had been in therapy for quite some time, and we couldn't figure out what was going on. Everything seemed like it was going good."
"And then she poked the cop's eye out."
"We couldn't figure out why she could respond to therapy and medication, but would just snap out of the blue. Then someone got a bright idea to check her medical records for past history of head trauma, coupled with sending her to Grant to get current scans on her brain."
We stopped at the elevator. I had a feeling I knew where this was going. We spent months straight in the gym together, on the road at times too. I have seen much of the damage she's done to her body firsthand.
"How bad are we talking?"
"2019, comatose for three weeks after passing out in a hotel room and not waking up. 2016, grade 3 concussion and 12 stitches. 2010; grade 4 concussion, 20 stitches and temporary blindness in left eye. And that's just the ones I remember without looking at her chart."
It looks like a normal elevator for the most part. Although it looks like it could fit ten people and a Honda Civic in here.
"What's she like now?"
The doctor took a deep breath.
“...she pretty much can’t communicate with anyone, maybe a few words here and there. She thinks one of the orderlies is somebody named Jay. Is that her…?”
“Yeah. Her ex-husband. My dad. Who isn’t gonna be coming down here anytime soon.”
“Bad divorce?”
“No, he’s in a wheelchair. He had to get a hip and knee replacement at the same time. It’ll be a while before he can walk again.”
“I’m going to be honest with you, Ross.”
Oh, God damn it, he’s using my first name. And we’re also in the elevator, going down like Aerosmith.
“She’s down in the lowest sub-level. This will take a minute, this elevator is really slow.”
“That’s some brutal honesty.”
“I was referring to Ms. Shadows. She’s not going to make it much longer. She thinks she’s in Korea and this is part of her martial arts training. She tried to kick her way out of the window. That got her laid in bed for a few days with a broken foot. Ross, your stepmother has late stage Alzheimer’s.”
Well, that’s a cannonball to my fucking sternum.
“This has been going on for a couple years, at least. She was a professional fighter, she has suffered a lot of head trauma, and I’d bet you my medical license that she has significant CTE…"
"Which you can only look for in an autopsy."
"Correct. Every symptom she’s showing right now is indicative of late stage Alzheimer’s; triggered by both the head injuries and depression...and it’s at the point where I don’t know if she’ll see Christmas.”
“Then why’s she in the basement like a top secret government project?”
“Putting her down here was part of the plea deal. The prosecutor would have had her thrown into the general population in jail, where she would have died by now without access to the care and treatment that she could only receive from this type of facility. Don’t worry. She might not be in a typical facility for patients in her condition, but I can assure you…”
The elevator door opened.
“...Ariel is getting all of the attention that she needs.”
He gestured for me to go first. When I stepped out and first saw the underground housing facility for these long-term, high-risk mental health patients, complete with an underground reception area that was even more decorated and emotionally positive than the above ground lobby…
"Good morning, Doctor."
"Good morning to you, too. This is Ross...he's primary contact and POE for A-19, do you think we could possibly get him back there for a quick visit?"
I believed him.
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Later That Day
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When I opened my front door, I already expected to see my girlfriend cuddling with someone else on the couch. That’s what they were doing when I made breakfast this morning, and when I left to drop Mini-Human off with Uncle Leglock and Uncle Ass-Whole before I went and found out about Mom. If you don’t know who either of those two are, here’s a hint. But back to the whole girlfriend-and-someone-else deal.
“Sup.”
“Hey Ross.”
I didn’t even look to see. I just walked straight into the kitchen. I needed a drink.
“Are you ready for Friday Night?”
“I’m always ready, dear.”
Yes, I am preparing to just drink whatever’s left in this fifth of Heaven Hill right out of the bottle like it was milk, I even have the freezer door still open because I won’t be long.
“I’m excited! We’re gonna tear through this tournament!”
“Yeah, I think I’ll be in the mood to drop someone on the head by then.”
“Are you okay?”
Ah. Zoey is still here. That means they’ve been here chilling all day.
“Yeah, why?”
I closed the freezer door and turned around. One, Chelsea and Zoey weren’t cuddling (but they were both wearing nothing but panties and my old T-shirts). Two, they were really cute. Three, they were both staring at me because I still had the empty bottle in my hand. Told you I wouldn’t be in the freezer for long.
“Did you get to see your stepmom?”
I just nodded. Oh, they’re still looking at me because I’ve still got the bottle at my lips. I should probably put it down.
“How is she?”
“She’ll be fine.”
I felt bad for lying to my girlfriend, but hell I already feel bad to begin with so this is the perfect opportunity to piggyback some other guilt and negative emotions onto the cargo train so I can just get this bitch unloaded and have fun again.
“Come sit down, babe.”
Chelsea patted the seat between her and Zoey, who also gestured towards the couch. I began to realize what was fixing to happen, and this is the part where I’m gonna have to let you use some imagination. Hopefully some lotion too, because this action is way too hot to try and go at it dry.
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Present Day
(posted via blog)
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Hey, IWF people. Ross Hanson here.
It's nice to finally meet you after all this time. I would have loved to have met you sooner, but I wanted to make sure that the amount of distractions I had was kept at a minimum. Y’all deserve my full undivided attention, at least when I'm talking about you anyway.
Look. I'm a shitty liar and now is not the time to start.
I suck at this shit.
I don't mean I suck at wrestling. I suck at talking to people. To be honest, I'm really good at that. When you take away all of the bells and whistles, and just look at my track record on the mat, I think that speaks for itself.
If this were a typical one on one match, I would point to all of the times I took someone down and never let them back up until they stopped fighting back. I would show you clips of people who hit harder than King Kong in Jibbs' trunk trying and failing to knock me down or knock me out. I would find a picture of me with an MMA championship and just end my blog with that. Or maybe the one of me walking around the ring carrying a 310-pound man like I carry my son home from his uncle's house when he passes out after they give him Red Bull and Starburst for dinner. Those would probably convince you I know what I'm talking about when I say I ain't afraid of no Jiu-Jitsu.
But this isn't one on one mat wrestling. It's a mixed tag team tournament. It's something that requires a lot more than just one person getting the best of another. It requires two people to get the best of two other people at the exact same time. That shit is difficult, let me tell you.
You don't believe me? Ask your girlfriend what she wants for dinner tonight. Imagine that you both have to pick the exact same place, AND get there before your exes that are currently dating each other do. Sound fun? Okay. Now imagine that whoever gets there first not only gets dinner but gets to beat the shit out of whoever showed up last because they're all hungry and cranky. That's the best analogy for tag team wrestling that I can think of.
So if you're going to pick somebody you can trust with your well being and career success, you better choose someone who likes to eat the same types of food as you. You also want to pick someone who doesn't eat the exact same thing, that way you don't have to open up the sandwich and figure out who got what.
Chelsea is more than just a girlfriend who might have a sex problem. She's the perfect contrast to me in the ring. Whatever she can't do, I can. Whatever I can't do, she can. Whatever we can't do alone, we can do as a team. If I'm not fast enough to get somewhere, I know that she is. If she's not strong enough to get out of something, I know that I am.
Ross Hanson, big dumb oaf. Chelsea Skye is a squishy little streak of lightning. But together, we're a real fucking problem to anyone we have to face during The Olympian. Together, we can accomplish anything.
Chelsea may be an Olympic-level athlete, with the letters of recommendation to prove it, but the closest I have ever came to being in the Olympics was trying to piss in all five rings on the sign at the LA Coliseum with the same stream. But that's still closer than I ever should have gotten, and for that I am grateful. However, once you've actually gotten to see that prize for yourself...you just have to know, can I actually win this? Can WE actually win this? You can probably imagine what this tournament means to Chelsea. And if I can have any part in her getting to be the champion she deserves to be, then God be with whoever thinks they can get in our way. So yeah. Skyeson winning the gold?
Shiiiiiiiiiit.
You better believe we can.
If you don't, ask Mariah and James if they believe we can after Saturday morning. I have this funny feeling that they're gonna definitely be big believers in Skyeson after this one. All they are is just two people who thought they could waltz through a group bracket with little effort and get some individual glory out of a team effort. But Skyeson isn't just a tag team. It's a fucking power couple, only we don't really think we'd make good dictators so we'd probably just reinstall democracy or something like that.
If you don't, ask Mariah and James if they believe we can after Saturday morning. I have this funny feeling that they're gonna definitely be big believers in Skyeson after this one. All they are is just two people who thought they could waltz through a group bracket with little effort and get some individual glory out of a team effort. But Skyeson isn't just a tag team. It's a fucking power couple, only we don't really think we'd make good dictators so we'd probably just reinstall democracy or something like that.
How many times have you two seen each other naked? Have you taken turns working over a seven foot tall evil chef? Have you ever been attacked three on two and still been more over than anyone else involved with any of that? How many hospitals have you two sat in together waiting for your best friend to come out of an opiate induced coma?
That's what I thought.
Even if our first match is against a trainee with more degrees in her martial arts belts than hairs on my balls, and a partner old enough to be her or my father; we can win this. Even if we have more bookings this week than Rikers Island, we can win this. Even if combined we have done about as much as a tag team as R. Kelly has done to help his local community youth, we can win this.
We aren't just a mixed tag team. We are a couple. We are a romantically linked item that deals with struggles on a daily basis that can only be overcome with teamwork, trust and dedication. If we can get through a two hour argument over the ending of a Disney movie, we can win The Olympian. If we can agree to only doing a best-of-three Paper-Rock-Scissors to see whose side Zoey sleeps on (spoiler alert: Chelsea won, woke her up for another round and didn't bother getting me up either) we can win The Olympian. If I can keep making these stupid god damn 'repeat something three times' jokes and they not get old, we can win the Olympian.
We aren't just a mixed tag team. We are a couple. We are a romantically linked item that deals with struggles on a daily basis that can only be overcome with teamwork, trust and dedication. If we can get through a two hour argument over the ending of a Disney movie, we can win The Olympian. If we can agree to only doing a best-of-three Paper-Rock-Scissors to see whose side Zoey sleeps on (spoiler alert: Chelsea won, woke her up for another round and didn't bother getting me up either) we can win The Olympian. If I can keep making these stupid god damn 'repeat something three times' jokes and they not get old, we can win the Olympian.
Maybe we just haven't been together long enough to have drained all of our optimism. Or maybe we actually do have a real shot at winning this thing. Who knows?
Guess we'll find out Friday night in Rochester.
Well howdy there pardner.