They do not negotiate with specifics.
Metaphor for life, no? You're welcome.
Behold: a portrait of me sneezing.
Your hands don't go for your face. They go for your belly to make sure your
kidneys don't land in friggin' New Jersey or something.
This morning, I woke up after having woken up 4 times during the night.(I miss you Tramadol) I sez to Philip, I sez: It's not easy being me at the moment. And he burst into his pretend opera voice and sang that. Then we both sang it and we're working on the second line so we can go on ellen if I am not taking a nap by accident.
Ya know, I didn't really realize how serious this all was(really I didn't) until Joey brought us some gorgeous soup(My Dad said, now you're REALLY going to get better). Nobody that I can think of, has ever brought me soup because I was down. I didn't even know how to properly accept it. I have some really good social skills but not all of them. Know what I'm sayin'?
What is happening tho-healthwise. I still have some ripping pain occasionally along rectus abdominis. I try to listen to it to figure out if I have to run to the bathroom because it seems as if it's a signal-sometimes.
I'm figuring out that I can only eat small bits of food-no bigger than that. Under a cup-ish. Which is probably very good.
Not sleeping properly. Except during ellen.
My throat. Can I get a witness? When you have surgery they shove a stick into your nose-only it's via the inside of your mouth. I'm going to have to say it might be the very worst part of the entire circus. Well guess what. THAT has to heal too. And it is VERY not nice.
There's probably other stuff but acch-enough already.
Blue Cross Blue Shield
When I am up and running, I'm going to emulate the business model of BCBS. For instance, I will go to Walgreens and pick out some toothpaste. They'll say: $3.29 and in the voice of BCBS, I will will counter with $1.29. And then I win.
It's the craziest thing.
I owe you a thank you note, don't I? Please excuse and forgive me but I've done maybe one. I'll try to do better. Uggh.
Very last thing
This very morning, Philip looked at me, gazed into my eyes and said:
We both need facials.
We both need facials.
ha ha ha.
Okay that was this morning and I was using the teeniest, tiniest, elf spoon to eat a strawberry yogurt. It was one of those pink top kinda anti-cancer yogurts. I thought, hmm. Let see how this goes down. OHMAHLAWDJEZUZINHEAVEN. Not good. Not good.
I don't know what time it started but I got the most explosive diarrhea. Like I'm sitting here holding my head and suddenly I'm racing across the condo(ironically)yelling(really angrily) SHIT SHIT SHIT.
I feel like my a-hole has been turned inside out.
Ever since the surgery I keep thinking: is this the part where I fight cancer?