I had surgery on Friday. It was in order to remove one of the several things that I supposedly don't really need all that much and would be better off without. This is according to the judgment of some people, all of whom profit from the removal process, of course. I've reached a ripe old age without getting anything other than my (five!) wisdom teeth out previously, so I was reluctant to proceed with anything along these lines. However, I finally had to agree that there could be benefits, and doing nothing was unlikely to lead to anything good. After a roundelay of many steps, I found myself in a paper gown on Friday morning. They come with built-in hand-warmers now! Who knew?
Medical technology being what it is, they did the whole five-hour procedure through four teeny, tiny abdominal incisions, and sent me home the same day. I live at the top of 38 stairs, so I was a bit daunted. Not enough to break my perfect record of no overnight hospital stays, though. (McDiva was born at home.) Much to my surprise, the stairs presented no problem, nor did walking, nor eating, nor drinking. Um, not alcohol, though. That's still a no-no.
McDiva and MiAmor are being very accommodating, as they ought. Friends keep bringing by yummy food, I get to lie down whenever I want, and if my hair is horrible, nobody judges me. I'm sort of amazed that the best case scenario described to me is actually playing out. Does that ever happen?
There are other things they want to remove. I'm gonna take a rain check, for now. But it doesn't seem so scary at this point, and I don't think it's just the drugs.
How are you guys?
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