Christmas Eve Story Time

Hope everyone had a fantastic Christmas.  I spent mine eating chicken all day and blowing up fireworks at night. Down here Christmas Eve is a bigger deal than Christmas  (I guess they havn´t figured out the whole Santa Claus thing yet).  Anyways I started the 24th with a nice hot soup of gallina india (gallina india is supposed to me more flavorful than regular gallina because it is raised on the farm, opposed to the house).  I was lucky enough to get a piece of the gallina that had some unidentified parts.  I ate it anyways and what a surprise, it tasted like chicken.  I took off for a walk and stopped by the Portillo household for a nice chat and a lunch of chicken, rice, salad, tortillas and potatoe chips with coleslaw.  Took a siesta in the hammock and swooped by the Posada household for some fun with the kids.  We had fruitshakes and played bingo until 5pm.  I then jumped a block to the other Posada household where I thought I became as full as I could.  I ate 2 giant chicken sandwiches some strange fruit and lots of sugary goodies.  We watched the end of some boxing match and I made my way for my last stop at the Escobar household around 7pm.  I enjoyed a dinner identical to my lunch at the Portillo household.

Now, take a mental note of all the chicken I had eaten this day.  This is where the story gets goood!

So I´m powering through this dinner trying to stuff as much food in my mouth to not offend the family, when two teenagers come in to talk to the dad, Ernesto or Netio.  They inform him that their dad took a spill on his bike and they were wondering if Netio could take a look.  Apparently, Netio is some sort of pueblo certified, people trusted Orthopedist.  The man sits down, already looking like he is in a world of hurt.  They take off the blankets wrapped around him to reveal his arm in a sling (I am still eating at this point).  I take a closer look and realize his left clavical is floating about 2.5 inches higher than his right clavical.  Of course Netio already whipped out his magical creme and began to warm his hands.  I´m thinking 9-1-1, Netio is thinking deep tissue massage (I take a break from eating to observe closer).  Netio carefully removes the arm from the sling and begins the deep tissue massage.  Now this si the first time I felt like puking.  Netio begins lifting the man´s arm and performing some active release techniques I´ve only seen in the UC Davis sports physical therapy center.  This man´s face told me he was in a lot of pain, but I gotta give it to him.  He didn´t squeal once.  I told him repeatedly that he has huge juevos and that I really wanted to cry for him.  Netio continued for about 10 minutes.  Pulling, pushing, rubbing, tugging, lifting, and all out playing with this guy´s arm.  At one point Netio called me closer to show me how much he could push this mans collar bone down with it returning to its raised position. This was the second time I had ganas to puke.  I was realling hurting watching this guy cringe in his seat and felt bad that there wasn´t a real doctor within shouting distance.  Finally I asked the man if he could use anything, some water, booze, vicadin, morphine, or a pillow.  He only shook his head no and made the universal vomit sign with his hand.  I took a big step to the side and watched the show.

He broke free from Netio´s grasp and hunched over in his chair.  The first blast of vomit shot his dentures straight out onto the ground.  He continued to vomit on his dentures for a few minutes, until someone snatched them up to clean them off.  Once the man fought off vomitting and the pain, Netio told him it is best he go to the ER.  HaHaHa, I could have told him that without the marathon of pain.  Netio threw the man´s arm into the sling and sent him packing for the ER.  The man thanked us for our help and took off.

We had a great laugh once the guy was out of ear shot.  I guess someone puking out their dentures is funny no matter the language.  Merry Christmas to me.  We spent the next hour throwing fireworks in the street.

More to come after the New Year.
Peace out cub scouts.

Cory