To evacuate.(Nothing worked. I used the other half of lemon to clean the microwave.)
For the nurse to call me back again. (I asked for some concoction that you don't have to drink. She said there's no such thing.)
Waiting for the rats to eat the Polish ham that's been lovingly draped over big new traps-so we've kinda like opened up a rat restaurant. (Ratstaurant, if you will.) The idea being, the first day it's a soft opening. The food is free and artfully draped on these big new asskicking traps with the yellow plastic cheese-ham serving feature. When the time is right, the brand new (and dare I say improved) exterminator will return, there will be fresh ham and then he'll set the traps to kill.
I thought we'd captured one a few days ago. I heard screaming. My neck got hot. But no.
We did get money knocked off the price because P is in change of removal. I can't sweep up a rat in a full body cringe. How would I hold the broom?
Of the ten new traps that have been set up, only one attracted a diner last night, so phase two might not start today. So I'm waiting.
Also today they're supposed to come and rotoroot the big drain out to the street because we've been smelling sewer gas and the first floor's been having some issues and they asked if someone could be home and that's me.
Prime Minister of Waiting.
And an old acquaintance is going to stop by and give an estimate for pulling out and replacing the cabinet(is that what you call it?) that surrounds the kitchen sink because we suspect that's the point of entry. We can't do that until the restaurants close for good. We wait.
One of my many bosses-who's driven through Cancertown herself(as a passenger with her Mom, I believe)-had a question: What do we tell the others? Because, pre-surgery, I didn't want to be additionally frightened by anyone's else's crazyassed fiction so I slipped outta there and didn't think about it again, until she got in touch with me, and asked again, what do you want to tell people?
I'm working on this.
During a routine health exam, the beginnings of a cancer appeared in Ann's rectum(See? Right there. TMI. Gack.)the beginning of a cancer appeared in Ann's lower digestive system. On the way to removing that cancer, the doctors noticed Ann's adrenal gland 'lit up' and it was decided that it was best to remove that too.
The adrenal gland isn't a place where cancer starts. So if they found cancer in that thing, it would indicate that there was another source and that her whole belly would have been a sort of a cancer stew.
That did not happen.
Six hour surgery(in which my Dad and P encountered Surgeon One eating his lunch outside while Surgeon 2 took his turn), 13 inch scar right up the middle of her belly(actually chopping her belly button in two). Many issues getting back on track.
Too wordy, right?