We're Only Human. (S3/Ep. 11 Podcast)

This is Season 3, Episode 11, of the man who woke up the Buddha.

It's entitled, We're Only Human.

Previously, Sid gave the grandchildren a dorm at all about animal sacrifice, with a focus

on the Abraham and Isaac story by way of Bob Dylan.

Fortunately, no animals were harmed in the making of that episode, as long as you don't

count the hamburgers and hot dogs.

Sid was mad, angry, enraged, apoplectic.

A little voice inside him said, I don't think the Buddha gets angry, but there was another

voice, and it was angry.

Who the hell is that?

Maybe that's me.

Whoever that is.

Here we go, the Buddha thought.

Sid figured it was 2 a.m. He didn't care.

He wanted to scream.

He had to scream.

It was like waking up in the middle of the night after a little too much liquor, and a

lot too much food, and trying to make it to the bathroom before throwing up.

He slid carefully out of the bed, hit his Superman bathrobe up off the floor, stumbled

into his slippers, and felt his way through the bedroom door, and along the walls, until

he was able to grab the railing and start working his way downstairs, struggling to keep

the screams down.

While he was asleep, head tucked into his body.

He just stirred enough to whisper, shmoo!

Sid made it to the basement stairs.

Thank God someone had left a lamp on.

He kept going through the TV ping pong room, where he gave his dormitoks to the grandchildren,

into the room with a small bar, and double locked liquor cabinet to keep Jake out as much

as the kids.

Running his hand along the bar railing, he opened the door to the garage, down the steps

leaned on Dye's brand new Lexus, and let out a heaven-curdling roar.

He was mad at the whole thing, the cancer thing, the Buddha thing, the shelter for unhoused

dead people thing.

He roared again, and again, and again, until he felt like he was a fire and brimstone

breathing Old Testament prophet, a voice from the wilderness shouting on a mountain top,

woe to the one who believes his rage is righteous, woe to the one who believes his dignity nation

is just, every day is a day of judgment, every day the resurrection is at hand.

He began to dry heave, turning away, he had enough wits to left about him, not to throw

up on Dye's car, he put his hands on his thighs and let loose.

The Buddha had an expected Sid to walk through the fire.

His job was just to unwittingly help some hyped-powered beings from way back when, get scorched.

Folks, we needed a brief fling with earthly consciousness to clear away some leftover karma.

No need for Sid to get burned out in the process, the Buddha thought.

Maybe just a little cinched, clear up his own karma, screw up his time around, and

after all, he's only human.

Overall the Buddha was pleased, like he always was, but even more so.

Well, good for him, now he can leave clean as a whistle.

Of course, as lucky he didn't let loose on the Lexus, the ag could have set him back

lifetimes. He shook his head.

He just never know what the universe has up its sleeve.

And then the storm passed.

Sid walked to the open garage door, looked up at the stars, and took a deep breath of cool air.

And another, until he felt cleansed.

The doors of perception had been flung wide open.

He felt he'd learned something profoundly true, even if he couldn't say what it was.

But his truth realized an anger still the truth.

Sometimes that's the truest of all, the Buddha reflected, when done sparingly, but wholeheartedly.

Sid found the garage hose and quickly washed away the evidence, except for the wet

am of a Superman bathroom, before walking back into the basement.

And I was sitting on the stairs, her elbows on her knees, chin on her fists.

This isn't the time to be glib, the Buddha thought.

I guess this isn't the time to be glib, Sid realized.

Hey, he said tightening his robe and walking towards her.

Hey, she said.

Her look was as much determined as concerned.

Like this is something we really have to deal with, Sid.

He put his hand against the ping-pong table and stood there until she nodded.

Let's go back to bed.

She reached her hand back to leave him up the stairs.

She said, boo, Polly said when they passed.

It's okay, Polly.

I said.

Did I?

Polly said sleepily.

When they got back to the bedroom, Sid slid onto the covers without protest.

She said, oh, I'm going to make you some tea.

He was sitting up staring straight ahead when she got back with the tea.

Yes, mint tea, she said, making it clear he was going to drink it.

Night big guy, she said.

Night sport.

The name he had used when they first dated.

It said more than an apology.

Dr. Juris walked into the living room carrying his doctor's bag.

He looked at Sid dressed in pink sweats in the barcow lounger and nodded.

Then he looked at Polly and also nodded.

Of course Sid would be in the barcow lounger.

Of course he'd now have a parrot.

Polly looked at Dr. J curiously because he had a strange thing around his neck that looked

like it would be really fun to nibble on.

Dr. J, this is Polly, Sid said.

J, please hang your stethoscope on the outside of his cage, he'd like to nibble on it.

You must have more where that came from.

Doc!

Polly added enthusiastically as J brought it over.

Doc walked in behind Dr. J and handed him a seltzer.

It wasn't flat PM yet.

And Sid, a chocolate milk.

He wasn't dead yet.

She sat down in one of the swivel chairs and pointed to the other one for Dr. J.

Polly stopped rubbing his head against the rubber stethoscope too.

Took a little drink himself and looked around at everybody.

Clearly, this was an important conversation, lucky he was there.

Polly, this is Dr. J, Sid said to his sidekick.

He's one of the best oncologists in the country and one of the best cyclists in the state

in his age range, of course.

J-J-J-Polly tried out the sand.

You carrying your biking clothes in that doctor's bag now, Sid is?

Now Jim's stuff, I'm going there after this, figured the stethoscope like convinced people

I know how to use the defibrillator.

No like their buddy, he had it as Polly started nibbling on the rubber tubing.

Do you?

They both left.

Die interrupted.

Okay, enough you guys, what did the MRI say?

A few days before, Sid had spent some quality time with the hospital's techno prisoners

of MRI tech for his post-radiation scans.

I've got bad news, Dr. J said, with a glint in his eye, tell him to tell me I'm going

to go on living, Sid groaned.

I could have told you that, the Buddha thought.

Shut up said, die said, is she just told me to shut up?

I can't remember the last time that happened, the Buddha chuckled at the memory, oh right,

Maria Twinnett.

Yeah, things look pretty good, Dr. J said, I was pleased.

Polly chirped, so apparently he was pleased too.

Maxfield too appeared, and with a suspicious look at Polly, jumped up on Sid's lap as if

he'd just been reassured Sid wasn't contagious anymore.

And that means, die asked?

Dr. J turned towards die and put his hand up, so he didn't have to look at the face as

Sid was making.

His blood work was fine, a little elevated white cell count, but you'd expect that.

I didn't expect that, Sid said.

Shut up said, die repeated.

Hmm, now that I think of it, I'm pretty sure Cleopatra told me to shut up a few times,

put a reminisce, it was worth it.

No indication of new cancer cells, of course that was unlikely anyway, so soon after radiation.

When do we check again, die asked?

Well, now that we have a new baseline, we'll have one every two to three months.

Sid and Polly were looking back and forth between them.

Sid shut up, die said.

I didn't say anything.

It's a preemptive shut up.

Wish they could just put a USB port in the back of my head, Sid muttered to himself.

I heard they had something like that, back in Atlanta, it's the boot of five.

Too bad about that asteroid, it was bound to be something.

Those people, the Buddha shook his head.

Okay, die said, we got another problem, J. Besides him, J asked, she ignored him.

You know all about Sid's pretending to hear voices.

I was wondering how the Buddha thing was going, the doctor answered.

It's not a Buddha thing, it's being the Buddha, there's a difference, Sid insisted.

Not all that much, the Buddha pointed out, to whoever was listening.

Oh, Sid just has an overactive imagination.

Dr. Jay said, trying to reassure her.

Most people think the hair voice is occasionally.

It's not Sid started to object, chop, Sid!

Polly shrieked.

What did you teach him to say that?

Sid continued objecting.

Die smiled triumphantly.

Did you know there's a hearing voices movement?

A voice called from the next room.

See, Sid said triumphantly.

I just heard a voice, didn't you?

Chop, Sid!

Polly shrieked.

There's another.

So we sweetie, come here, die, Sid.

So we walked in carrying her tablet, looking a little sheepish.

And did you get here, Zoh, and die asked.

It's a step to Dr. Jay, I thought I'd do my homework in your office.

I know you're interested, honey, but this really is a conversation for us and the doctor.

Well, I'm glad the test came out well.

We all are, but we have other things to discuss.

Okay, I'll put it in my earpods so I can't hear.

I'm listening to the rise and fall of the Roman Empire.

A little voice and Sid's head said, A2, Zoe?

Before you go, he said, looking serious enough for Died to let him go on.

Could you just tell us briefly what the hearing voices movement is?

They fight discrimination against people who hear voices, Zoe explained matter of

faculty.

I should be president of the thing, Sid said to Zoe, start laughing.

You learn that and the decline in fall of the Roman Empire?

Probably Neuro, singing while he fiddle, while shut up, Sid.

Shut up, Sid!

Die and Polly said in unison.

Who's side of you, I'm Polly?

Die, die.

Polly admitted sheepishly.

Now, it's really time for you to leave us, Zoe, die, Sid.

Close the door, okay?

Zoe nodded.

By Polly, she said as she left.

But, but, bye, oh, he.

Polly said, flapping the wing.

Listen, Jay, die, start again, all business.

Last night, I heard blood-curdling screams coming from the garage.

So I went down and sat on the basement steps.

Sid wasn't hearing voices.

He wasn't impersonating anyone.

He was possessed.

True, the Buddha thought.

Not exactly how you think, but it's good you came down when you did.

They've been getting more intense, die, Sid.

But this was completely over the top.

It almost felt unsafe.

For you, Dr. J.S., suddenly in mandatory reporting mode.

Or for him, the Buddha thought.

Sid, Dr. J.S. said, with his clinical atone as he could manage

with his old friend.

Okay, yeah, I was pretty upset, Sid admitted.

It was like being in some sharp intestine movie.

Then, Sid just shrunk.

Like, it was no big deal.

I mean, if you'd asked me my name, date of birth, and all that other stuff

you people ask, I would have known it.

Well, weird things do happen.

Illucinations, seeing colors, hearing strange sounds, after radiation.

But this seems exceptionally weird, even for you.

I got asked the official question, die.

You think he's at risk to himself or others?

I don't know.

I don't know.

I wouldn't exactly be comfortable having the grandkids here for a sleepover

after that.

Isn't there some drug for when he gets really out there?

Bello!

Polly Shriek sounded a little too enthusiastic.

Did he say Benzo?

Dr. J.S. disbelievingly?

How many words does he know anyway?

We don't know until he says one, die, explain.

He was Keese's parent.

That explains a lot, Dr. J. admitted.

He'd only met Keese a couple of times.

But that was enough to know.

He could go behaviorally, mono, a mono with Sid.

Maybe he's saying Zendo.

A voice came from the other room.

Polly Shriek sternly.

He was turning into the household enforcer.

Sorry, she called out.

Digest shook her head.

Sid, seriously, Dr. J.S. said.

How about I set you up to see a neurologist?

Sid was about to object, but he sensed something or someone holding him back.

I thought we'd see you at some point.

The Buddha said to that someone.

Tread lightly, will you?

That hasn't always been your strong point.

I don't need a neurologist.

I need a fucking alchemist, Sid said quietly.

A couple of notes on this one.

Dr. J.S. who's known as Dr. J.

first appeared back in season one, episode 10.

He has an unpronounceable first name.

That's why they call him Dr. J.

Also, I've occasionally acknowledged the journey of my late friend Mark Green

as a source for some of the details of Sid's cancer diagnosis and treatment,

including his excellent, perhaps unrealistic, idea of implanting USB ports for scans.

Mark's memoir of his illness is called Void If Detached.

And of course, Zoe's right, as usual.

There is something called the Hearing Voices Movement and there is a USA chapter.

Thanks again for listening to the man who woke up the Buddha.