“I was a beaten, broken and defeated man… as I laid in a hospital bed for almost a week, talk about humbling.”
— Stevie Rachelle

URGENT CARE, California – Well, while I don’t always share every detail of my silly little life, today I will be doing just that, and it’s not a fun story to tell.

Over the last few weeks I have been recovering from perhaps the most serious medical situation I have ever faced in my 59 years on earth.

How serious, well, according to my Doctors my case was somewhat alarming.

Exactly 1 month ago I basically collapsed in my living room, which resulted in an unexpected journey to the Hospital.

Now, 3 weeks after being discharged I will share with you what happened.

In short, I had a Cholecystectomy done, which is the medical term for having Gallbladder Surgery.

This was the second of 2 procedures I had to have during my stay in the Hospital, as the day before they performed an Endoscopy on me, which was required to try and remove the Gallstones.

This was done through my throat.

Just my luck, my largest Gallstone measured more than 2.1 CM… which is considered huge and put me into the High Risk category for what is usually a basic procedure.

Now, not that I know what being Pregnant feels like or giving birth without medication, but I was told by several in the medical world, that trying to pass a Gallstone is very similar to what a woman goes through during labor.

With that… let me give you my experience from the beginning.

About 18 months ago, somewhere in early 2024, I started having these pains late at night, usually as I was in bed starting to fall asleep, and suddenly awakening to this sharp stabbing in my upper middle abdomen.

Of course I am a guy, and wrote it off to the pizza and soda I had for dinner that night, or some other food I ate that day telling myself; “Maybe I should stay away from that stuff.”

The first time I recall this happening, it lasted a few hours, and I was eating Tums, Rolaids, drinking ginger tea and trying some other random remedies.

The pain would fade, I’d fall asleep by 2:00 or 3:00AM and the next day was normal.

Life moved ahead as normal, and then, about 8-10 week later out of the blue, the same thing would happen again.

After 3-4 of these, soon they got longer… and I vividly recall one happening and looking at the clock and saying to myself: “Ugh, it’s 11:00PM, I got 3 or 4 more hours until this is over.”

But this past spring 2025 I had one incident that went from 10:00PM, til 8:00AM the next morning… and to say it sucked – is a massive understatement.

What’s that you are wondering, “Did you think about calling 911, or going to the Hospital?”

Answer… nope… never… and yes I regret that decision now.

However, I did tell my Doctor at some point and we did some general tests, including blood panels, and I was prescribed a few Rx to help curb what we somewhat diagnosed as me getting older, needing to focus on some better diet choices and so on.

I am 6’ tall, and have hovered around 205-210 pounds for most of the last 20 years, and as some of you know, I am also fairly active in the gym, working out and weight-lifting.

Occasionally I would flirt with 220 pounds, and I could tell the extra weight – muscle or not – was something I needed to cut back, and felt this too could have been causing me an issue.

I am no P90X cover model, but as a life-long non smoker, non drinker, and non drug user, I generally speaking am in better physical condition than many of my peers.

Then the summer came, and I went to visit my family in Wisconsin with my girlfriend Stephanie.

We were there during the weekend of July 4^th, and spent a few days eating out, grabbing custard at the ice cream stands around town and that very night, after the fireworks we were back at the hotel and it hit.

At this point, I had only told her about the 1 incident that happened in the spring, but she had never been there with me when one happened… however, on July 4^th at 10:30PM it happened and she was there.

I was in the bathroom, feeling it come on, and I told her, “I am having one of those things!”

She watched me suffer and the night was long… in and out of the bathtub as the warm water helped settle it a bit and I was trying to find a comfortable position on the bed.

I even found the strength to go to a 24 hour pharmacy, twice to buy whatever we thought might help.

That night, turned to morning and it finally subsided around 8:00AM!

It was 10 hours of Pure Hell… but I made it.

Fast forward to late September, and we spent a few days in Las Vegas for a Private Event I performed at with some other artists… Steve Brown and Trixter were there, Mili from Steelheart, Anthony Corder from Tora Tora and Lorraine Lewis of Femme Fatale.

There were also some other industry friends there, including a few photographers like David Plastic, Neil  Lim Sang and April Lee from the Monsters of Rock Cruise, along with Eddie Trunk and a few others.

While in Sin City, we also went to the Tom Keifer and L.A. Guns show and hung with all of the guys.

Ironically that Wednesday when we landed, we went to go find food and 10 minutes after arriving, we ran into my friend John 5 of Mötley Crüe!

What a sweetheart of a guy, and we had a quick chat and hugged before heading to dinner.

Vegas was great, the show was a blast and all went off as planned… then we flew back to Burbank on Friday September 21^st in the early evening.

Saturday, September 20th 12:30PM (PST).

I was home from Vegas for less than 24 hours, and out of the blue, it hit again!

This time it was bad… VERY BAD… and I knew it.

The pain was so severe, I basically collapsed onto my living room floor.

I immediately grabbed my cell-phone and called Stephanie telling her it was happening again.

She tells me, “You need to go to a Doctor right now!”

I try to tell her in my weak breaking voice, I don’t think I can drive… and without hesitation she says, “I am on the way right now!”

Less than 15 minutes later she pulls into my driveway and I fight my way out the door to her waiting SUV.

She’s now racing through the Valley as we head to a local Urgent Care clinic that is roughly 3 miles from my house, but with stoplights, it’s about 12 minutes… well, to be honest, she only yielded and we didn’t wait at any lights as she sped through traffic.

We arrive some minutes later and upon entering the door, I am keeling over and we’re trying to explain what was happening, they immediately rush me into a room and the Doctor walks in just seconds later.

I am sitting on the table, and the pain stops, the episode ends, and it’s over.

Just like that, it ended.

For the previous hour or so, I was dying… but the second the Doctor walked in, it stopped. WTF!

The Doctor immediately suggests and EKG, and they hook me up, run it, and his words were, “Your EKG is perfect, I see no problem there.”

Next stop, they X-ray me, and again he says my lungs are good, and what he can decipher from the X-ray, all is well.

He then suggests a CT Scan, and wants to send me to Northridge but It’s a Saturday and the place is closed on the weekend, so he tells me, “I am making this appointment for Monday morning at 10:AM.”

Sunday comes and goes with no issue and I wake up Monday September 22^nd, but do not eat or drink anything and drive to Northridge around 9:30AM.

I now spend 2+ hours there, and sit in a prep room in a gown drinking contrast, each cup every 15 minutes and for anyone who has ever done this… it’s gross and gets old pretty quick.

It’s similar to the old Colonoscopy drink.

They also hook me up to an I.V., and add some other contrast, or similar, which makes your veins and body feel warm, almost like you are peeing yourself.

I finish the CT Scan and leave around 12:30PM… and, I am starving as I have not ate since Sunday.

On my way home, I stop at my favorite Thai place for lunch and order chicken ‘n broccoli, and ice water with lemon… my go to lunch special that I get there usually once a week.

I head home, and it’s around 1:30PM… time to sort orders for the day, and package them up for the post office.

Then it hit again… and it came on fast and hard… the same pain like I had on Saturday, and it was unbelievable.

I immediately called Stephanie again, who was thankfully working from her home office that day.

She says, “Steven! You need to go to the Doctor…” and I tell her, “I am leaving now, I am going to try and drive”, and she says, “I will meet you there!”

We’re both now driving to the same Urgent Care a few short miles from my house, and oddly, it’s literally about the midway point between both of our homes.

I drive like she did, but only yield to blow through red lights, and make it to the Urgent Care office as quickly as I can.

I walk in, and again I can barely get a word out, and I am in excruciating pain.

I have been at this place here n’ there since the mid 1990’s, and the Doctor knows me well… as I walk in I tell him what is happening and he says, “Steve… I don’t think I can help you, you need to get to an E.R. right away.”

I knew I couldn’t drive any more, but told him, “My girlfriend is on her way, she is like 3 minutes away.”

He instructs us to go to Olive View-UCAL Medical in Sylmar.

The Doctor follows me out the front door, and luckily Stephanie pulls in seconds later.

I jump in her SUV, and she punches in the Hospital details.

Google Maps says it was 17.5 miles and 27 minutes, but that day when she pulled it up, the GPS first said 54 minutes, but it quickly re-calibrated and read 45 minutes.

Stephanie let a few F-bombs when she sees it’s the better part of an hour, but I tell her, “I can make it, just drive.”

With that… we were on our way, and while I can vividly recall all of this, I am not sure what I was truly thinking… and I guess part of me was thinking, “If I die… at least this pain will stop”, as she raced down Winnetka towards the 118 Freeway.

After an agonizing drive, we pulled into the E.R. at Olive-View and like a scene from a movie, I was moaning out-loud, and multiple people came to help… soon I was in a wheel-chair and now I am in the waiting room.

I look around and see roughly 30-40 people… and everyone was staring at me… which made sense, as I was practically screaming like I had just been shot in the chest.

I was horrified and embarrassed as 2-3 dozen people all stared, but my body didn’t care, as I groaned bent over in the wheel-chair as staff started asking questions.

To our surprise, they took me in almost immediately… I don’t think I was there 2 minutes and they pulled me into room 3 in the E.R.

I am now sitting in what amounts to a small intake office and a staff person is asking more basic questions but thankfully this was quick as well, as about 1 minute later a Nurse came and took us to yet room, an actual exam room.

Now I am laying in a bed in an exam room and a few Doctors start asking questions.

Some of what happened in the first few hours is a blur as the pain was so extreme, but I do recall them immediately hooking me up to some stuff, blood pressure, oxygen, and pretty quickly another EKG machine.

I never asked… but… I am guessing Stephanie immediately called her Boss and said, ”I have to log off, my boyfriend is having a medical emergency” or similar… as she dropped all, and drove straight to the Urgent Care and subsequently took me to this E.R. as well.

Had she not done this… I assume the Doctor at Urgent Care would have dialed 911 and I would have taken my first ever Ambulance ride, but… Stephanie saved the day and my ass… again.

It’s now Monday about 5-6:pm, and I am in a Hospital bed, Stephanie is there, and they did all kinds of tests including an ultra-sound, drawing blood, the EKG, and some other stuff too.

A couple different Doctors come in at one point, and they ask more questions, as now I have been calmed down enough to be able to answer.

I am guessing they gave me some type of pain meds, perhaps morphine or something in my I.V. so I could manage a conversation.

I start giving them some history, and pretty quickly they take me to do another CT Scan.

I told them I had a CT Scan done earlier that morning at 10:AM, but it’s now 6:00PM, and the imaging place was closed… the results from Northridge were not going to be ready or forwarded til the next day, which would be tomorrow (Tuesday September 23rd).

With that, they could not access the CT Scans from earlier that day, so they wanted to do it again there.

But before that, the Doctors started asking, “How much do you drink?”, and then stated that my eyes were yellow, as was my skin… and I mean, Giraffe yellow… forehead, face, arms, legs, the works.

I guess I was in a stage of Jaundice, which can be caused by heavy drinking.

I tell them, “I don’t drink…”, and then they asked, “When did you stop?”, which I guess was there way of assuming I used to be an alcoholic and had recently quit.

I and Stephanie both start talking over each other, and she adds, “He doesn’t drink at all!”

I also explain, I don’t smoke, never have, don’t use hard drugs, but I am using CBD gummies to sleep. Lol

That is the extent of my intake when it comes to that kind of stuff… and I guess they realized I was being honest, but they were also trying to eliminate various things that could be causing my condition.

Soon enough, I am wheeled down to a room on a gurney and they do the CT Scan, my 2^nd of the day… and then the Ultra-Sound as well, and the woman doing it says, “I see 4-5 stones, and 2 are HUGE!”

Now I am back in my room, and they tell me that I am going to have an Endoscopy tomorrow (Tuesday September 23^rd) and they explain it to me.

In short, they put me out, and stick a camera and the needed tools down my throat.

Yay, I can’t wait… said nobody ever.

Anyway…  this happens and of course I was 100% out… so I don’t remember anything.

But… once awake and back in my room, night #2 begins in the hospital, and to say it was pretty much pure Hell is an understatement, but… in reality, this is just the beginning.

That night I started having the worst diarrhea ever, which happened about every 45 minute to an hour, all night long from 9:00PM, til the following morning.

What made it even worse, was I was helpless, in a Hospital bed, and had to push the button for a Nurse to come help me to the bathroom… then after doing my business, I had to pull the little Emergency rope for them to come get me again.

This happened, oh, about 8-10 times and each time I was sweating profusely and starting to drive heave but nothing was coming out, as I had barely ate anything in about 48 hours.

The pain… was mind boggling, and yes, I was on a ton of medications too, hooked up to an I.V. bag and at some point had Oxygen strapped to my face as well.

I also had those little electro sticky pads all over my body, as they were monitoring every single organ in my body.

After the Endoscopy, and while inside my guts, I guess they realized my Gallbladder was shot, and then told me that the following day, I will have to have procedure #2.

Next, I will be having a Cholecystectomy, which as I stated above, is them removing my Gallbladder.

This is done as a Laparoscopic surgery and they cut into my mid-section, in like 4-5 areas.

It’s now Wednesday September 24^th and I recall being wheeled on a gurney, and laying in a room that was my pre-surgery area, and the Anesthesiologist comes up and says, “Hey, Tough Enough, how are you today?”

This was the same guy who put me under the day before, for my Endoscopy.

He was a gem of a man, and in prepping me, started some small talk, “Where are you from?”, and “What do you do for a living?”, and I told him, “I am a singer.”

He asks, “Are you in a band?”, and I tell him, “Yes, the band is called Tuff”, and a little chit-chat exchanged.

So… I gotta say, in the middle of preparing for round two of my trip through Hell, I had a funny moment going into surgery and thought, “Tuff Z’Nuff… hmm, maybe Chip & I should do that at some point”, laughing to myself.

It’s now in the evening, and I am in my room recovering from the Gallbladder surgery and night #3 in the Hospital… the level of Hell is going up several more notches, but I just don’t know it yet.

The non-stop diarrhea continues over night, only this time, instead of it being a yellow shrapnel… now it’s pure black liquid… but, oddly it does not smell like poop at all.

Not even a little…. sorry, I know… TMI… right?

I guess it wasn’t poop, but rather the infection or toxins inside me, as now it’s going on 3 days without eating anything, so there was no solid food in my stomach at all… just fluids from the I.V. and my guess the random colors, and blank smell, were mostly antibiotics or medicines of sorts.

Then it happened…

I am lying there, and by this time, I had used the toilet about 30 times in the previous 48 hours, and somehow, I made it every time… even though I had to push a button and wait for the Nurse.

I mean, truth is, I could not get up or out of that bed on my own even if I wanted to, and even if I tried, just by letting my leg hag off the side, the bed was set with an Alarm system.

So, if a patient in my condition tries to leave the bed, the staff is notified, and a little bell starts ringing and an electronic voice says, “Do not get out of the bed. Help is on the way.”

A male Phillipino Nurse comes in, and he was the nicest man ever… and this time as he was lifting me by pulling my arm, I told him, “I think I went in my bed… I am sorry.”

He said, “No problem, I got you…” as he pulled me out of bed, and as I stood up, I could feel it everywhere, and then I half-turned and glanced at the bed as I was slowly being guided towards the toilet.

My bed was covered in diarrhea and discharge, black liquid Sludge covered my hospital bed… and… most of my lower body too.

I sat on the toilet, in my gown and slipper socks, with my legs, backside and private parts all coated in this gross black Sludgy (how fitting of a word huh?) sewage that had poured out of me.

I literally had no control of my functions, and it’s now like 3:00AM on Thursday morning September 25^th.

I was on that toilet for what seemed like 30 minutes, and at some point the Nurse came with 2 huge packs of these Hospital wipes, and one by one, we wiped off my body.

It was beyond disgusting and I kept apologizing to him, but he was a saint, “No worries, I got you.”

I pull the red rope, and he comes to get me, and takes me back to my bed, which has been completely cleaned and changed.

I am now in my hospital bed again, and laying there alone… it’s now like 3:30 or 4:00AM, and it’s just me and my thoughts.

I was a beaten, broken and defeated man… as I laid in that hospital bed for almost a week, talk about humbling.

I am a big strong bad ass, who can still bench 300 pounds, but my big dick macho self was reduced to a hospital patient, relying on a staff of amazing people who cared for me like a wounded soldier…  24/7 for nearly a week… and this was not lost on me.

In-between going #2 about 40 or maybe 50 times during my stay (most of it in front of complete strangers no less)… I was also poked, prodded, jabbed, and drained of blood multiple times per day and night, round the clock.

I should have titled this blog TUFF DIARRHEA, instead of TUFF DIARIES.

I guess I have to try and find some type of humor in all of this, but yea… it was bad.

I was hooked up to oxygen, EKG monitors, a blood pressure thingy wrapped around my arm (at some point for 24 hours straight), I.V. bags, the sound of constant beeping as all these devices were measuring my heart rate and other necessary precautions taken, a needle locked and taped into my left arm for days and in addition to all of that, being fed medications every few hours orally.

One thing I did during my stay… and I did it a lot, is I cried.

I am not ashamed to say this either… what do I have to prove?

I cried more that week, then I have in 20 years… and while there was a lot of pain, there were also a lot of questions… why did this happen and what will happen next.

I was sad… thinking about life… my kids, family, friends, and stupid me asking myself, “Who will update the website or ship this week’s orders?”

All stupid concerns, right?

Especially when you’re health is on the line…

I also thought about all of those who have much more of a struggle in life than I have ever had, be it because of their up-bringing, parent-less homes, suffering from poverty and most of all… those who are fighting to stay alive because of a life altering or threatening disease and illness.

Kids with cancer, adults with cancer, soldiers wounded or worse in combat, and the list goes on.

The innocent who are killed by a drunk driver, or murdered by a crazy person with a knife as they are taking the train or subway home from work.

A week earlier I was in Las Vegas playing a private show with friends and peers from the industry, and hanging out with John 5 of Mötley Crüe and L.A. Guns… seeing associates, and having fans come up and ask for a picture.

Nothing to brag or boast about… but this is my life… at least sometimes.

Other than that… I live a very normal basic life, but I do have my little ‘Look at me‘ moments when I play or go out to an event.

I am beyond grateful for all and regardless of what others think… this is my story, and while some of it has been amazing there has also been challenges.

I am a singer, and while we all know I went Platinum Zero times… I have been doing this for 40 years… and have been so fortunate to have been afforded these chances…

But just like that… the lesson here, once again, is it all can be taken away from you!

It was like Covid, only not as long and I didn’t have to wear a mask.

But truthfully, both are and were pretty scary… fair to say?

I have done this music thing my entire adult life… and have rocked the stage in over 40 states, 30 countries on 4 continents… and while they can never take that away from me… the powers that be can take your ability away from you to do the most basic things in life… and quick.

If I can’t walk to the toilet or put my own socks on without help, then I guess I couldn’t play either.

One night I am playing in Sin City and a few nights later I am lying in Shit City!

One minute I am signing album covers for fans and the next minute I am being rushed into a Hospital Emergency Room.

It happened that fast… I left my house… with the door unlocked, the T.V. on, and that afternoon my life came to a screeching halt.

The next time I walked in the door, a full week had passed, and thankfully, my Gallstones did too.

But… as I said above, none of this is lost on me… I am a very lucky man, and the Doctors told me so.

They also praised my girlfriend Stephanie… who was there for me, not once, but twice inside of a few days.

I have since went back to the Hospital for my 1^st of several post-op appointments with Doctors, and they said my case was definitely one of the more serious ones they’ve seen.

I will also go back in early November for a 3^rd procedure, as they will do a 2^nd Endoscopy, and yes… I will be under again… I guess this is them going in to remove a stent they put in my bile duct, and I would assume, to make sure everything is healing okay.

Of course, I am not thrilled about this… as having a camera and various instruments shoved down my throat is no fun… and they also do this while I am laying flat on my stomach with my arms over my head.

WTF right…

Dr. Wu who did the 1st Endoscopy procedure explained it to me, and said, “Yes, we knock you out, but then flip you like a pancake.”

Haha… true story.

Aside from the many Doctors, Nurses and staff at Olive-View UCLA Medical, I want to thank my amazing better half Stephanie who was paramount in helping me, and the Hospital coordinate and all.

She was also my voice, when I had none for several days, and kept in close contact, with my Mom, my sister Cindy, my cousin Keith, and of course my amazing kids too… who are both up at UC Berkeley for school.

My son Steven really stepped up for him and his sister, and he was in close contact with her during my time in the Hospital as well, and all of my family and close friends have been super supportive.

With that… I will close and now share my GOFUNDME I have started for me to help pay for all of this!

Just F’ing Kidding… 

I loathe most every GOFUNDME I have ever seen posted, and that is the last thing I would do… as it’s not your responsibility to pay for my diarrhea clean-up or to have my insides surgically repaired.

But… my STORE is always there, along with my various platforms, eBay and Amazon and Discogs.

I am not looking for a single penny from anyone… but… like a restaurant or other place of business, when they face adversity, perhaps some of the community steps in and buys from their outlet or dines at their diner.

What I do here with my website, small label and music catalog, is part of my life’s work, it’s my music, and my bran, so if you want to show any support, please do… and in exchange, I will happily sell to you, sign and ship… any and all… be it, a CD, a tour T-shirt, Vinyl / LP, a Hoodie or a Beanie.

Life can be very fragile, and anyone, any of us, our very existence can turn on a dime… I know, mine did.

I also lost 25+ pounds, as I dropped down below 185 during my stay, I have not been that weight since the 90’s.

And lastly, I will not be sharing any photos of me wired up in a hospital bed, as there is nothing more heinous than a grown man in a gown looking sad and pathetic for all the world to see!

I will close for now, but let me say, I am thankful to be here typing this update.

I am forever humbled… and beyond grateful.

Stevie Rachelle

Stay tuned to Metal Sludge for more Breaking News, Updates and Features along with both New Interviews and Classic 20 Questions.

TUFF DIARIES Entries #1 – #21, with #22 through #25 coming soon…..

Tuff @ WebSite – Facebook – eBay – Amazon – iTunes – Instagram – X/Twitter – Store – Discogs – YouTube –

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