The burn marks from the Moxi Box. Read on…

I’m still alive. I have a roof over my head. I have food available to eat, and clean water to drink. In the grand picture of life, I am ok, but I think what I have gone through in the last week allows me a few minutes to complain…

Sunday
I drank nearly three quarts of liquids between Saturday night and Sunday (early) morning, but no liquid came out. All I had was extreme pain. After rolling around on the bathroom, bedroom and hallway floors in agony, Nora had to drive me to the hospital (for the second time). Classic moments from the hospital trip include:

* Me yelling at the nurse that I had no intentions of filling out forms again. I was just there less than two weeks ago. It’s 2009. You have a computer in front of you. Pull up the fucking file!

* I was on my second 1000ml bag of IV drip before I finally “went”. UGH!

* The x-ray tech, the nurse and the doctor all said the same thing: “We normally can’t see a kidney stone on a normal x-ray, but we can see yours.” Great…what do I win?

Wednesday
Around 2:10am, I awoke to the smell of burning electronics. I immediately jumped up, and started frantically walking around the bedroom, trying to find the source. Nora noticed the Moxi (crap TiVo clone from Charter) was not displaying the time on the front as usual. I hit the reset button, and heard “sizzle”. Bad. I went to touch it, and nearly burned my hand. I yanked the power cord, and moved the unit into the kitchen, allowing the unit to cool down. I will now summarize the next 17 hours:

* Run down to Charter Glendale, and complain on how their shit DVR started to catch fire. I also mention that I was actually supposed to be in San Francisco at the time, so I am lucky I was home, or else my entire apartment would have gone up in flames. Do they care? No. I get a one-day credit for the Moxi box not being used. I lose three years of DVR recordings, and had the risk of my entire apartment burning to the ground, and I get about nine bucks. Damn, Charter. Don’t hurt yourself now trying to please the customer.

* I get handed a temporary non-DVR HD box, and a slightly hollow apology. I come home, and of course the box doesn’t work. I then head back to Charter Glendale, and proceed to wait nearly an hour in their damn office lobby, before being told a tech would bring me a replacement Moxi.

* The tech shows up with a Moxi…the wrong kind. After he comes back with the right one, and sets it up, he leaves, and I plug in my 1TB external hard drive from my old Moxi. The new Moxi doesn’t recognize it. Great…I just lost three YEARS of DVR recordings! Does Charter care? No.

* The new box doesn’t pick up the channels I pay for! What the hell!

I am screwed. The day is wasted. I am tired, and the stone hurts.

Thursday
I get a bill in my mail. The first hospital bill (remember, I have gone twice to the hospital in the last two weeks due to the extreme pain of the 7mm kidney stone). How much you ask, dear blog reader, is the bill? A few dollars shy of $8,000! Fuck! For the money I am having to shell out for this damn stone, when it ever does pass, it better come with winning lotto numbers written on it! Two cat scans, some blood work, and fluid, is $8,000? Fuck.

Friday (tomorrow)
This shitty Moxi goes back again. If I can’t get my three YEARS of DVR recordings, why bother using a shit box that won’t even let me watch all the channels I pay for!?!? Then, at Noon, I am off to San Diego (hopefully) for the Depeche Mode show. As far as I know, it is still on.

Poor Dave. Cancer, torn leg muscle, and a vocal injury. He’s got about as much luck as I do lately.