Part Thirty Three: Home Again

Hey everyone! I'm back at home and doing well. Thank you all for writing in with your words of love and support.

After days of dreary drizzly weather here in Saint Louis, the skies are clear and the sun is shining down on this city of World Series and Kidney champions.

C did a nice job reporting on the day of surgery, but I will add a few observations of my own. I'm sorry if this update is long and disjointed... but I have a lot to say and I'm still feeling a little woozy this morning.

Let me start by saying that I was still pooping quite a bit Wednesday morning! I mentioned this before, but it really did continue up until I was wheeled into the operating room. I guess I will never know if I pooped on the nurses and doctors during my surgery (unless they took a picture for me).

My dad was in the little holding room next to mine, so most of our visitors would multi-task and come to visit us at the same time. It kind of sucked though because it meant there would be periods where I was laying in there all alone! My brother Anthony came back and read me a scripture and said a prayer and kissed me on the forehead. It made me cry and after that I was pretty weepy. I managed to pull myself together when the doctors came in and wheeled me out into the O.R. We paused for a second by my dad's area and my mom came out and hugged me and my dad said something like, "I'll see you on the other side." At that point, I wasn't too nervous... mostly just ready to go back and get it all over with.

The nurses swarmed all around me in the operating room and quickly put a oxygen mask on my face and asked me to breathe in deep. They then told me they were giving me a shot and that is all I remember.

I woke up in the recovery room. I vaguely remember a nurse who kept shouting across the room at me to BREATHE DEEP. Breathing deep was really really hard. She had to tell me to breathe lots of times.

I woke up in my private room a little bit later with a bunch of people around. I think my brother Alex and his girlfriend Dawn, and Carrie and Beth, and maybe my grandma... I don't even remember now. I kept closing my eyes and then I would wake up and there would be more people there. Doctors came to visit me and lots of different nurses and care partners. They took my blood pressure and temperature and pulse a lot. All throughout the first night my nurse came in every hour and checked on me. She said my blood pressure was really low. Also, there were some problems with my catheter. It wasn't draining correctly.

That night I was able to get up and walk to my dad's room. The walking part wasn't too bad... but the getting up part was really difficult. It felt like all I was really able to do was lay there. If I tried moving to the left or right it would hurt so bad.

I didn't visit with my dad for long. He kept dozing off and I was tired and felt dizzy... so I walked back to my room.

The next day is even more of a blur than the first. I was so incredibly tired and groggy on the second day. I think the anesthesia finally caught up with me. I couldn't keep my eyes open and if I tried to get up I felt like puking. I think I did end up throwing up a little bit. They gave me medicine for nausea and some for pain. I tried to watch the Cardinals game but kept falling asleep and couldn't focus. I turned if off somewhere around the third inning. I was glad to wakeup and turn on the TV and see that they had come from behind to win.

Thursday, they were really pushing for me to go home. Or at least the surgeon was. He came in and talked to me and told me that I couldn't lay around all day and that I would only feel better if I got up. After he left I started crying because I was so frustrated. A super nice nurse came back in and saw me crying and told me that they wouldn't make me go home if I wasn't ready. She took the bandages off my incisions, which really hurt and I cried a little more. I noticed that they'd had to shave my stomach a little bit for the surgery. Sweet.

Friday morning I got up early and got out of bed and put my housecoat on and went for a walk. I had gotten up several times during the night to pee on my own. They made me pee into a hat so that they could measure it and make sure my one kidney was doing okay.

On Friday, I really started feeling the pain from the air trapped inside my body. At first, I was just noticing pain in my abdomen but then it shifted up to my left shoulder and eventually to my right. It got to the point where I wasn't really able to lay down because it hurt too bad, and I could hardly sit still because of the pain.

They allowed me to brush my teeth and take a shower that morning and I put on a clean gown. A short while later, I was able to get some real clothes on. My mom and grandpa gathered up all of my balloons and gift bags and flowers and took them to the car, while I waited for the nurse to return to take the annoying IV out of my wrist and bring my prescriptions and discharge papers.

Carrie had gone into work for a few hours and returned to the hospital in time to ride home with me and my mom. The ride home was kind of rough, as the city streets are bumpy and I had lots of balloons knocking into my head. We got in around 2:30pm and C got me quickly settled into to a comfy chair in the living room with warm fuzzy blankets and a heating pad on my abdomen to help alleviate the gas pains.

I pretty much stayed planted in the chair from the time I got home until the end of the Cardinals game. I had tried to lay down for a little bit but the pain from the trapped air proved to be too intense. I occasionally got up to go pee. I've been peeing just fine, but still had not had a bowel movement, or even been able to pass gas! I can't even express how annoying this is... knowing that you have all this air in you and it won't come out. I've been burping a lot though. Somewhere in the ninth inning of the Cardinals game I felt that familiar sensation in my butt and I let it collect long enough so that it would make an audible exit from my body. *FAAARRRTT!!!* My brother Anthony, and my friend Suzi, and Carrie were here watching the game and they cheered as I passed my first gas since the surgery. It was funny.

My dad is still at the hospital and is doing okay. His incision site is oozing a little bit which is causing some concern. Right now, the doctors are hoping it will heal up on its own but there may be a need to go back in and close it up better. His creatinine levels had been around 17 before surgery (the doctors were amazed that he was still able to pee some!), and by the time I left, they had dropped to 5. Just to give you an idea of what this means... Creatinine is a waste product and a good indictator of kidney function. A normal adult with two kidneys would probably have between .5 and 1 mg of creatinine in their system. Someone with just one kidney would probably have somewhere between 1.5 and 2. So it is pretty crazy that my dad's was up to 17, but encouraging that it has dropped below 5. I'm still waiting for his most current report. He is able to walk around on his own now and has finally had his catheter removed (which is a relief for a guy, I imagine!). I think they are feeling like he'll be able leave the hospital today.

I took one vicodin last night during the ball game and another before I went to bed. We have a futon that I was trying to sleep on, but I found it to be rather uncomfortable during the night. I got up to go to the bathroom and came back and tried to sleep on my side a little bit. My mom came over to stay at my house last night and I woke up when she started puttering around at 8 this morning. I felt pretty crappy this morning... my back hurt and I wasn't sure if it was more gas pains or just soreness from the futon. I sat down in my chair and felt like I was going to throw up. Carrie started brining me water and instant breakfast and ginger tea and bananas and crackers. I felt a little better after eating, but still needed a little more sleep, which I found in the comfort of my chair and heating pad and blankets.

One thing I'm noticing is that every time I get up to go pee, I get really shaky and weak and very cold. It's kind of annoying.

My incision sites are exposed but sealed shut with glue. They look kind of gross, especially the bigger one near my waistline.

Time to get up and walk around. I've always found that spending too much time inside makes me feel lethargic... so I think the more I'm up and around, the quicker I'll heal up. The Cardinals victory parade is tomorrow afternoon. Maybe Carrie will drive me down there.

PICTURES TO COME SOON

Part Thirty Two: Surgery...Pre and Post

Hello! After spending 17+ hours at the hospital, I'm here to report that Amanda and her dad are doing quite well.

We arrived at the hospital a little after 6 am, meeting her parents and older brother in the lobby. We made our way up to the surgery floor and settled in for a wait. Around 6:40, the kidney folks were called back into the pre-surgery prep area. There, they donned finery such as this:



Then, they got to do things like answer a million questions, turn over living wills, give blood and urine samples, and watch TV. Amanda and her dad had a rotating roster of visitors: siblings, aunts and uncles, grandparents, and so forth. A few brought Amanda to tears.

It was an emotional time for all.

Amanda's mom made these signs so that there would be no confusion about who was who:





Even so, Amanda was marked with a circled K on her left side to indicate what was happening.

Amanda was wheeled back for surgery a little before 9 am. We were given periodic updates and were quite relieved when her surgeon came out to speak with us. Everything went just fine for our little Porkchop!!! What a big relief! They even finished up earlier than we expected, and Amanda was in the recovery room by 11:30.

Amanda's dad's surgery started around 10 am. His, of course, went much longer. Another wave of relief was felt when we learned that the kidney was hooked up and producing urine! I don't think anyone has ever been more excited about pee! Awesome!!

We checked in on Amanda around 1 pm. As expected, she was in and out for quite a while. It was a joy to watch her snooze and snore. She started perking up mid-afternoon and felt well enough to banter with her family.

Here she is with a cardinal balloon from her grandparents:



Her dad's surgery wrapped up mid-afternoon as well. Unfortunately, his blood pressure is quite high, so he is staying in the ICU for a couple of days (her dad had double-bypass surgery a few years ago, so this wasn't really a surprise).

He isn't able to have any liquids yet; the nurses can only give his mouth a sponge swab. Luckily, Amanda has been downing ice chips, broth, and jello!

Also, around 10 pm, she took a walk around the floor, visiting her dad in the ICU. I find this quite incredible! But, she is experiencing moderate pain around the incision sites and had a couple of Vicodin around 9 pm.

The doctors say that she could come home Thursday afternoon, but we all think this is too soon and will probably insist that she stay another day. Judging from her walk around the ward, I don't think she's in any shape to climb up all the stairs to our apartment (we live on the second floor, and the house is atop a small hill....lots of stairs required).

Before I conclude, I wanted to share this photo, which illustrates how nasty GoLytely is. This photo was not staged or posed...it's an authentic expression of disgust:



The attendants in Amanda's surgery took a few photos for Amanda of her kidney. We will hopefully get those photos developed and posted soon. I mean, how cool to have a photo of your kidney!

Good night, and thank you all for your thoughts, well-wishes, and love. It is very much appreciated.

-CF

Part Thirty One: KIDNEY DAY!!!

Hey Y'all! It's early and I'm getting ready to head out the door for the worst/best day of my life.

I was able to get some sleep last night... probably 4 or 5 hours worth. I didn't drink as much of the GoLytely as I was supposed to because I started gagging quite a bit when I drank it. I couldn't get down more than an ounce at a time.

Sounds like my dad was having a rough time on his end. He drank half a cup and threw up three times.

I drank four more ounces before going to bed and was up every hour or so going to the bathroom. My stomach sounded awful and was gurgling and groaning. But there wasn't much coming out of me.

I'm still going this morning and I don't know how long it will keep up. I'm sure I'll poop all over everyone. Great... something new to worry about.

See you on the other side.

-Amanda

Part Thirty: GoLytely

I hadn't really planned on eating much today, but I ended up going to lunch with my friend Nurse Megan. While looking at the menu, I joked that we should choose the meal that would be the most interesting coming back out of me a few hours later.

My parents were throwing around the idea of going to dinner with my grandparents this evening, but I opted to go home and start the pooping process while watching the baseball game.

The GoLytely came in a powdered form inside of a 4-liter jug. I was instructed to fill the container with lukewarm water and shake until the powder dissolved. I mixed it earlier in the day and threw it in the fridge to chill. I was told by multiple parties that the solution was more palatable when cold.

The instructions indicate that I'm supposed to have 8 ounces every 10 minutes. All I have to say to that is, "YEAH RIGHT!"

Around 7pm, I started drinking the stuff. At first, it seemed rather tasteless... then I started to notice a kind of vegetable-like aftertaste. After the first 6 ounces, I started gagging and spat up the remainder.

Over the next hour and a half, I managed to gag down another 16 ounces. I started pooping around 8pm. I've gone several times since then and after the first few times it went from squishy to wet to me peeing out of my butthole.

I can't stop drinking the stuff until the stuff coming out of me is completely clear.

I'm not sure if I'm going to make it.
The surgery will be a piece of cake compared to this.

Part Twenty Nine: Corpus Distraction

A short while ago I returned to St. Louis from my weekend getaway to Corpus Christi. As expected, it turned out to be a wonderful distraction.

I wasn't able to escape the impending surgery completely. The wedding allowed me to be reunited with many dear friends and it was only natural for them to inquire about the upcoming events. We went out for celebratory drinking nearly every night I was there and there were many comments made about how there would be so much alcohol passing through my kidney that my dad would feel drunk after the transplant. Also, every time I ate, I couldn't help but think about how much fun it is going to be going poop on Tuesday.

There was a period, though, on Saturday where I somehow managed to completely forget about the surgery. I spent the day helping the bride's mother prepare for the wedding. I was later rescued from the wedding craziness by my friend Phil and his fantastic puddle pounding rental SUV. As we rode back to the hotel, I glanced down at my right arm and the slowly healing hole from my last crossmatch. Then I remembered Wednesday and it occurred to me that I hadn't thought about it at all that whole day. It was another one of those times where I didn't realize how anxious the situation was making me until I was relieved of it for a little while.

On our last night in Corpus, we watched an installment of Miami Ink, which is a show about tattoo artists in Miami. Sometimes I think I might get a tattoo of a kidney on the left side of my back after I give mine away. I'd probably never have the nerve to do that though...

Of course, who would've ever thought I'd have the nerve to donate a kidney?

Tomorrow, we poop.

Part Twenty Eight: Bath Tubes and Hospital Food

I spent a little time this morning getting ready for my weekend trip to Texas and then headed over to the outpatient clinic a little before noon.

The regular desk guys were out to lunch when I arrived and as a result, I didn't get my normal quick service. First, they seemed confused and couldn't find my file. Then they thought they found it and told me to have a seat until someone could register me. Meanwhile, my dad walks in and up to the front desk. They fumble for his paperwork and then realize that the name sounds familiar. The desk guy's eyes scan the room and land on me.. "Didn't we just check someone else in with that name??" My dad gestures to me and says I'm his daughter. He's checked in at that time and given a wristband and told to wait to go back.

Meanwhile, I still have no wristband and am still not officially registered. I know the routine and know that this is out of the ordinary. I saunter up to the desk and inquire as to whether or not I'll be getting a wrist band today.

The guy looks at me blankly. "Are you having something done today too?"

Despite the fact that I've already indicated that I am there for preadmission testing for a kidney donation, he still questions me. Like I could somehow be unclear about why I am there.

Eventually, they get it figured out. Khristy, my favorite blood-sucking nurse, comes and fetches my dad and tells me to come on back whenever they finish with my paperwork.

By this time, my dad has already given his blood samples and is in the process of getting his EKG. I am already hopped up into the pistachio green adult high chair when they emerge from behind the curtain. Khristy remembers that she bruised me before and used a nice small needle. She needed at least five or six tubes of blood today and as the first sample comes out I think that it really looks a lot like chocolate syrup.

K next hands me a urine cup and points to the restroom. My dad wonders out loud why he didn't have to give a pee sample too. Khristy remarks, "Well, we already KNOW what kind of sample we're going to get from YOU!"

After peeing into the cup I came strutting out of the bathroom and plunked it down on the counter proudly. "See there!" I said to my dad, "Now THAT'S quality right there. That's what you have to look forward to!"

We go in the back for the EKG and I realize that I'm wearing one of the tightest shirts that I own. It makes it hard for Khristy to maneuver around and stick things under my shirt but she manages and after some readjustments, is eventually able to get a good reading for me.

While we're doing my EKG, the x-ray technician comes to get my dad and eventually I join him down the hall to get chest x-rays. This time, I was able to see my x-rays pop up on a monitor after they processed and it was pretty cool! My breasts looked incredibly perky in the side shot.... and my heart looked bigger than I expected.

I thought we were finished at that point, but we were next directed into a little exam room to meet with the Anesthesiologist who was a super nice younger lady. A nurse asked if we had eaten yet and we were each given a little container of hospital food. It contained an apple juice, apple sauce, cookies and a cold moist turkey sandwich. We nibbled away while discussing what to expect on the morning of surgery. The doctor asked if we had any questions and I came up blank. My dad said, "Amanda just wants to know if she's going to be able to watch the World Series that night in the hospital with me." The doctor smiled and said, "I sure hope you'll be able to watch the Cardinals play. And if you're feeling okay, I don't see any reason why you won't be able to go in and visit with your dad some that night."

The next stop was the Doctors Office Building to meet with the transplant team. I wasn't expecting any more physical exams, but when we got there, we were almost immediately whisked away to separate exam rooms for more inspection. After getting our vitals checked, I waited alone in a little room for at least an hour and a half before anyone acknowledged me. A physicians assistant came in and did a brief exam, feeling my abdomen and throat and groin and breasts. After a quick question and answer session I was asked to sign a consent form for the surgery.

A few minutes later, one of the surgeons came in to talk with me about the operation. From what I had been told, this was not the surgeon that would be performing my surgery, but he had been following my case from day one and told me, in his thick accent, that I was one of the healthiest patients he had ever had come through the evaluation process. We talked about the risks and the things I would need to do after surgery. At one point he was saying that I wouldn't be able to take a bath for a while and he said that I would not be able to get in "the bath tube." I was momentarily confused but then realized he was referring to the bath tub.

I'm feeling less anxious today than I was yesterday and am once again thankful for the distraction of this wedding weekend. It also helps that the Cardinals won game 7 of the NLCS tonight to make it to the World Series once again. Although I probably won't be able to make it to a WS game this year, I think it will be even more rewarding to watch the World Series on hospital TV with my dad and his new kidney.

Part Twenty Seven: Knockout

Sorry for the lack of updates... but really all I've been doing is a whole lot of waiting and worrying.

Still no word from the gynecologist... which is good. No news is good news. I just hope that she remembers to fax my results over to the transplant coordinator.

I got a call today from the Anesthesiologist at SLU. They asked me a bunch of questions about my health... and I always feel like a broken record.

"No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no..."

And then when I finally get a questions that I can say YES to... I get SO excited. As in:

"Do you have any caps, crowns, or dentures?"

YES YES YES YES! Oh thank God! YES! I have crowns! This is fantastic!

After the Yes/No session I was given further instructions for the day of the surgery.

The main things I need to know:

1) No food or drink after midnight.

2) No nail polish or contact lenses (not applicable but still interesting)

3) Wear lose fitting clothes.

4) Do not bring any valuables. Just an ID, insurance card, and medical directive

5) I can bring one person with me and that person can stay with me until I go in for surgery.

I was shaking when I got off the phone with the nurse. A letter with instructions is one thing... being given instructions over the phone is another. When I finally meet with the surgeons tomorrow and am given instructions in person, I might puke.

I guess it's normal to be worried. For the first time since this process started, I had a dream about the surgery. I woke up crying.

Tomorrow morning I go in for the final tests and meetings before the big day. My sense of excitement is shifting to a sense of just wanting to get all of this over with.

As is often the case when I get stressed out, my face is breaking out. When I get nervous I start to pick at my face. I need a pair of mittens to keep my hands off my face.

Luckily I have the excitement/distraction of baseball. The Cardinals can clinch a trip to the World Series tonight. If they make it to the WS, the St. Louis home games would fall during my stay at the hospital. Whoever would've thought I'd have a legitimate excuse to lay around and watch baseball in bed? GO CARDS!

Part Twenty Six: Two Weeks

I've been thinking a lot about hospitals lately.
I've never really had to go to the doctor or hospital (for myself) before this year.

My older brother has asthma, and at an early age landed himself in the hospital where he had to be in a little tent. I remember visiting him there. We took him a NERF football. I couldn't have been very old... but I remember that.

My little brother was a bit more accident prone... his favorite place to end up is in the ER. One time he fell onto a broken lightbulb and cut his knee open pretty bad. I'll never forget the sight of that open wound... the gleaming white fat bobbing in a pool of blood. It made me want to throw up.

Although my dad had been in the hospital a number of times for one reason or another, the scariest stay he had was during his double bypass heart surgery (in his late 40's). He looked pretty bad afterward. It was after that surgery that they figured out that his kidneys were failing and had contributed to his heart problems.

The closest thing I've ever had to surgery was getting my wisdom teeth removed. Luckily, I only had wisdom teeth on the top... so it wasn't so bad. They knocked me out for the extraction. And that was the weirdest thing ever. I went into a room, got up on a table, had a mask put on me and a shot in the arm... and then they told me to count backwards... and the next thing I knew I was in a completely different room, with gauze in my mouth, and no more wisdom teeth.

Since I decided to donate a kidney to my dad, I've been trying to imagine the surgery day. But I really don't know how you can imagine having an organ removed. It's one of those things that you won't really know what to expect until it's already done. The doctors can tell me over and over what's going to happen...and the nurses can tell me how bad I'll feel... But until it's done... it's all just a blur in my head.

I don't like the idea of hurting... but I know that it is only temporary.

My friend, nurse Megan, tells me the worst part will be the gas pains. They have to blow air into you during the surgery to make a little extra room to maneuver around. Megan says the only way to get it out is to fart or to get up and walk around.

My friends Heather and Sarah said that the worst part will be my organs shifting when I stand up. Megan says that is crazy talk. But it's still creepy to think about.

I'm starting to worry that something weird will happen... I don't want to be the one out of a thousand that has some stupid side effect.

In the meantime, I'm still working my two jobs... watching lots and lots of Cardinals baseball (GO CARDS!)... and going to a wedding in Texas the weekend before the surgery. I don't wanna have much time to think about things. I just want to get it over with.

Everything will be fine.
Just two more weeks...

Part Twenty Five: Itchy Insides

For those of you out there who have never had (or never will have) the excitement of going to the gynecologist, let me tell you... it's a blast. In keeping with the tradition of telling you more than you ever needed to know... I'm gonna tell you more than you ever needed to know. (Just in case there's someone out there that DOES need to know.)

Really, it's not that bad... but there's something kind of daunting about it. It's one thing for a doctor to stick their hand up your shirt to listen to your heart with a stethoscope, but it's another thing completely to have a doctor examining your exposed breasts or putting your feet in stirrups, scooting your bare butt up to the edge of a table and allowing a complete stranger to look into what my friend Megan Page likes to call the "cooter".

My trip to the doctor this morning went a lot better than the last one. This time I was prepared with my complete insurance information, although I still have been unable to obtain a temporary ID card. Within minutes of my arrival I was whisked away to get measured (5'2" tall) and weighed (124 lbs). The nurse then took me into the exam room and she took my blood pressure (which was "good"), and gave me instructions for the gown and the sheet (gown open in the front, sheet over the legs).

Before I got undressed, I was led across the hall to meet with my new doctor in her office. Dr. M is a recent addition to the women's clinic I went to. She recently finished up her residency at Barnes Jewish Hospital in St. Louis and as expected she was young and pretty and looked smart in her little white doctor's coat. She kept calling me "darling"... but not in a snobby international sort of way. More like a friendly southern "darlin'". This made me feel good but also weirded me out a little bit because she didn't seem much older than me.

The doctor and I discussed my medical history and family history and the reason for my visit. She promised she would send my test results over to the coordinator as soon as they came in and she commended me for my attempt to donate a kidney. She also said that I was the "picture of good health" or something... which I guess I kind of already knew after two months of evaluations for the donation. But I still expressed the appropriate gratitude for her saying so.

Our discussion was short and we trudged back across the hall to the exam room where I was given a minute to undress and get my naked butt on the table. I always find that the gowns are way too big on me and with the opening in the front, they did very little to hide my private parts. I was just getting ready to put the sheet over my legs when the doctor knocked on the door and asked if I was ready. I wasn't really ready... but figured she was about to stick her hand up my "private no-no spot" anyway so it probably really didn't matter if I exposed myself to her.

The actual exam was pretty quick once she got started. She first examined each breast while I was in a sitting position, and then had me lay down and felt around a little bit more. She encouraged me to do monthly self-exams and explained how to do that (which I have already heard a million times... but appreciated nonetheless). Next she whipped out the little stirrups, had me scoot up to the edge of the table. She was talking to me about my job at Six Flags as she worked... and before I knew it she had stuck the speculum "down there" and was scraping away at my insides for the Pap Smear. She also pressed around on my pelvis some and looked around for a bit... then it was done. It probably only took five minutes.

As far as results go, she said that "no news is good news" and promised to have the results faxed over to the kidney transplant coordinator in 7-10 days.

So I guess that's pretty much it until my dad and I go in for the final crossmatch on the 19th. That's only a week and a half away which is both frightening and exciting.

Organ Donation. It's the LIFE thing to do.

I generally have about a half hour commute to work, which allows me plenty of time to enjoy bad talk radio and the billboards plastered all over the Missouri highways.

Over the summer, I was bombarded with images and radio spots from Mid-America Transplant Services.

I didn't mind the billboards so much. You can see all of them here. Billboards are nice silent reminders that can make a big impact with a mere five seconds of your time.

But it is the David Eckstein radio ad that is about to drive me nuts.



Perhaps you haven't heard the story of David Eckstein, the St. Louis Cardinals baseball player whose family has been rocked by kidney disease. If you would like to read more about the Eckstein family, here is an article.

It's a touching story and they were able to make it into a stirring radio ad. I think I might have even been moved the first time I heard it. But I swear they run this ad every break during the cardinals game and every half hour on non-game days.

It's remarkable that MTS-STL has been able to run such a huge advertising campaign and I really hope that people are moved to donate their organs.

But if I have to listen to that David Eckstein ad one more time... I might change my mind about donating... just to spite MTS.

If you're not in the St. Louis area and would like to hear the ad, click here. But don't say I didn't warn you.