Though you can still call me Lexi Kahn, I'm pulling a Cougar/Mellencamp move and re-identifying. My name is Michelle. I live in Boston, by way of New York, by way of a tiny town in Connecticut. I live with Joe. We're DINKS (dual income, no kids). It's a miracle I have made it to my thirties. Thirties! I am SO a Gen X'er -- go ahead, ask me about the 80s. I love good books, good movies, divine food, leisurely travel, smart comedy and, especially, music. For 11 years ('97 to '08) I was a regular in the local Boston rock scene using the name Lexi Kahn (Google me!) but quit the whole thing to pursue other interests. What those are...is probably what this diary will be about from 2008 forward.
So keep reading! You never know what'll happen.
Okay, okay, I'm here, I didn't die. I'm sure that unless you're one of the
thoughtful, wonderful people who emailed, signed this guestbook, called, or came to visit me,
you don't know exactly what happened. Well babycakeses, it's as simple as it is surreal.
On tour with All the Queen's Men, everything was going great.
For most days of the trip my notebook looked like this, for example:
Thu Apr 3, BASEL
-up by 8am/Lexi and Christine go get food and money changed
-12pm: Meet at space/load up/bring posters to Sacre Couer
-LEAVE BY 1:30...NO LATER! drive to Basel
-4pm: Basel/soundcheck (4 - 6)
-6pm - 8/Go to crash pad
-8pm: dinner
-10pm: SHOW
I swear, nowhere did it say:
Sat Apr 12, La Chaux de Fonds
-consider the possibility that my stomachache could in fact actually
kill me
9pm: Go the the emergency room in a little French-speaking
villa in Switzerland and get rushed into urgent surgery
But that's what happened. My intestine (sigmoid colon,
it says on the chart) ruptured. Apparently,
lots of people have these soft spots on their intestine called "diverticula," and
for many, they feel cramps and aches, go to the doctor, the doctor says to avoid
certain foods (I have a friend in California
with diverticular issues and she can't eat seeds) and sometimes they get antibiotics.
OTHER people, it seems, can go along happily with no symptoms at all, and then suddenly RRRIIIPPPPP!
If that ever happens to you, try not to be 3700 miles from home. Kind of complicates things.
