trade ya

surgery done!

It was short and early. I had to be there at 7am, which was, to my mind, at least as bad as scalpels slicing my flesh. They knocked me out again, despite the fact that I was a bit curious as to what local anaesthesia would be like, or, that thing called "twilight sleep" which sounds so interesting. But, curious as I am, I do not want to experience the vast varieties of anesthesia to the point where I would undergo many more surgeries just to sample them. curiosity and the cat, you know. (did you know that the incas used anesthesia?)

Anyway, after last time, when i was pampered and catered to most shamelessly for 2 days, i was a bit miffed that, right out of the recovery room, i was given my clothes and a page of instructions, and sent out into the cold cold world on wobbly legs and one small paper cup of apple juice. However, i am being cared for at home by, as the Ex puts it, legions of grim felines arrayed head to toe. These felines are, in fact, monitoring me closely, even abigail, who in general, retains her feral standoffishness as a point of pride.

The BF is also doing his part, foraging in the wilderness for foodstuffs and prescribed drugs with nothing but a bit of plastic in his gloved hands.

Oh and the boobs? well all i can tell right now is that they are softer, smaller and less protruberant than the expanders. woo hoo!

and on the subject of boobs, I have also to say, poor Anna Nicole. I'm not kidding either. People diss her for being ditzy and for marrying for money, but, those two things are kinda mutually exclusive no? And, neither one is so awful. Who are we to cast stones? She gave the old guy 14 months of happiness, and, if not, she paid for any transgressions with a lot of pain.

And, tops in my book (oh sorry, no pun intended and all that...), she helped animals. Thus allying herself on the right side of things in my opinion...