A Post By: Michael Gallo
You wake up in the middle night and immediately regret the 2 1/2 pounds of chow mein you ate from The Young Dragon. You’ve suspected for a while that they use dog and cat for their meat but this stomach pain only solidifies your theory. Easy, you racist bigot. Brace yourself, this isn’t food poisoning. You’ve got appendicitis, and with the state of health care these days, your only hope is to remove your own appendix in the comfort of your own home. So get the following items and get ready to sack up. This isn’t going to be pretty. Trust me…I’ve done this. Twice. You’ll need the following:
-A kitchen knife (sharp and dull both work. Just depends on how you want to feel afterwards).
-A bottle of Evan Williams whiskey
-A second bottle of Evan Williams whiskey
-A granola bar
-45 small band-aids
-A small mason jar
-A pack of gum
-A button sewing kit
So you woke up with the worst stomach pain you’ve ever had and determined, through extensive webmd.com research, that you do indeed have appendicitis. It’s go time.
1. Crawl to the center of your room, as to give yourself the most space possible.
2. Crack the bottle of whiskey. Don’t think about portions here, at this point it’s best to just get as much down as possible.
3. Start psyching yourself out. Think about Michael Vick working at the Humane Society, or Wall Street executives. If all else fails, try tribal screaming. Chant and scream the words “Unntuni” and “Buggitidy”. Channel your inner self.
4. I’d play it safe and take another pull from the whiskey bottle…
5. Start asking, “Why me!?” and “Is there really a God?” This moment of panic will really get your heart rate going and make you think twice about backing out like a little bitch.
6. While you’re at it, just take another pull of whiskey. It really can’t hurt anything at this point.
7. Pick up the knife you selected for the procedure. Grip it overhand, AKA you’re about to stab someone in a subway station grip, NOT I’m cutting into a bagel grip.
8. Pray to whatever God you believe in and drive the knife into your stomach. This may hurt a little. Don’t worry about things like accuracy, or depth. At this point you just want the knife in your stomach region.
9. Your appendix is on your left side, so start cutting that way. Wait no, it’s on your right. Actually…I can’t really remember right now. You should probably look this up on a smart phone or personal computer before you start the procedure.
10. Alright, this is where it starts getting hairy. You have a kitchen knife in your stomach, you’re bleeding all over the carpeting your parents just put in last year, and your appendix is still about to burst. But the most important thing to do here is remain calm. This is the point you should stop and eat the granola bar. You need the energy.
11. At this point you’ll really take stock of the blood. Don’t focus on how dizzy you feel or how queasy the blood makes you. Or the weird texture it has when it get’s on your carpet. Oh God…do you feel the sushi coming back up?
12. Start mopping up the blood and vomit with the paper towels you had ready. It’s whiskey time! No more pulls, just chug.
13. Remember the knife in your stomach? Cut a slit wide enough and jam your hand inside. Oh yeah, I almost forgot! This whole time you should be biting down on the belt. Bite as hard as you can, until your teeth feel loose.
14. As you’re reaching inside, feel around for something that feels like a slippery lima bean. That’s your appendix. Take the knife and cut that bad boy out. Put it in the mason jar so you can show friends, family, and loved ones later.
15. Sew yourself up with the button kit, and roll to the door. Stand up (Rocky stood up after multiple, lethal blows from Apollo Creed, so I think you can too), and walk to the nearest hospital. “What!? Shouldn’t I wake up my parents and have them drive me to the hospital?” – Concerned Barnyard reader. I don’t know, do you want to be “that” child? Suck it up, your grandparents got appendicitis for Christmas. Don’t be a girl about it.
16. Walk into the hospital lobby, speak in absolute jibberish and then pass out cold on the floor. You’ll be pleasantly surprised if you wake up alive. Hopefully they operate on you right away.
Now, obviously I’m no doctor. But doctoring isn’t hard. Anyone can do it with the right tools and a little bit of luck. Actually a lot of luck.
*The Barnyard Lampoon is completely responsible for all readers attempting to remove their own appendixes*