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We created a GatheringUs memorial to celebrate the life of lolo and lele. Collecting your stories and memories here will offer us great comfort. Click on the heart to let us know you were here and to receive email updates. Thank you for contributing to this lasting memorial.
Kenneth Zeger
Kenneth Zeger:
1 hour ago
Here's one "typical" memory. Back in late 1990 or early 1991, I was
living in Honolulu, and Andy visited me for a few days and stayed in
my apartment in Manoa at the University of Hawaii campus. While I... moreKenneth Zeger
Kenneth Zeger:
1 hour ago
Here's one "typical" memory. Back in late 1990 or early 1991, I was
living in Honolulu, and Andy visited me for a few days and stayed in
my apartment in Manoa at the University of Hawaii campus. While I was
teaching one day, he managed to somehow find a bunch of professional
fishermen and get them to take him out on their boat all
day. Apparently they made him work for his play and he spent the day
fishing. He actually caught a fairly big tuna (locally called an
"Aku") and brought it back to my apartment so we could eat it. He had
no idea how to clean, prepare, or cook the thing, so that was my
job. I was barely one step ahead of him about fish. While I was
gutting and cleaning the fish (with Andy asking a million good
questions along the way) I cut some out and we both ate it raw
(i.e. "sashimi"). It was delicious, but I suddenly developed a big
rash all over my lips and face. I had heard lots of horror warnings
about Ciguatera fish poisoning (no known cure) on local TV and was
worried that's what I had. So Andy and I rushed to the emergency room
of a hospital, and that's when the fun really got started.
The doctors there had no idea what Ciguatera was, nor how to diagnose
it. They were obviously faking it. So at one point they told me and
Andy to wait in a room while they consult each other. It so happens
that in our room on the shelf was a Merck Manual of medical diseases
etc., designed for professionals like doctors. Well of course, Andy
and I started pouring through it during our 30 minute wait time,
covering every possible variation of the symptoms, etc. When the
doctor finally reappeared, he proceeded to ask about 20 questions in a
row, every single one of which Andy and I had read and memorized about
15 minutes earlier. We started laughing uncontrollably right in the
middle of the predictable diagnostic process. Finally, the doctor
insisted the only reasonable thing was to force me to vomit up the
(supposed) toxin. So he gave me 5 bottles of Ipecac to induce
vomiting. For some reason, after consuming all 5 bottles I couldn't
vomit anything. Andy and I weren't worried because while reading the
Merck Manual, we concluded that I must have gotten some intestinal
bacteria on my fingers that touched my lips, thus causing the swelling
- a nonlethal situation. We trusted ourselves more than the MD at this
point.
But we were so entrenched in the hospital bureaucracy that they
wouldn't let us leave unless I either vomited or they pumped my
stomach. Andy, the (mergers and acquisitions) lawyer, explained the
potential malpractice medical suit they would face if I just left the
ER. So when the doctor stepped out of the room for a moment to give me
one last chance, Andy and I conspired to jointly produce about 2
minutes of nonstop fake vomiting noises. When the doctor returned he
was convinced, promptly discharged me (probably glad to get rid of
us!), and I went home and was fine. We cooked the rest of the fish the
next day and it was great.
I had numerous other similar wacky experiences with Andy over the last 30+ years less