So short story long, I had surgery on Tuesday.
Just a small one concerning those parts of the body that an old grandma might refer to as the ‘unmentionable’ bits.
It was nothing EXCEPT that I had to sign my life away, have HALF the blood drained out of me, have an EKG AND a chest x-ray, AND was asked if I have a living will and, just to make me feel really good, would I like to have the chaplain visit me…
These people obviously didn’t know I’m a hypochondriac.
On top of that I had the added pleasure of paying thousands of dollars for the privilege.
We’re lucky to have care when we need it, but how on earth do people manage if they haven’t got thousands.
All the people in the hospital, except the mean looking desk lady who didn’t know how to smile, were really nice.
Not that I felt like hanging around or anything,
but really nice.
I got to wear the long white victorian tights, the puffy purple gown with the vacuum pipe attachment, and that nice deli counter cap.
Why can’t they just put that thing on you when you’re not looking? I mean, they do everything else while you’re sleeping…
I didn’t want to go and don’t mind telling you that I felt very sorry for myself.
I had to toss up between going in to hospital for a couple of hours with living in one of George Martin’s books or turning myself in for a fifteen month prison sentence – voluntarily.
We’ve just started to watch Orange is the New Black. Not sure that I like it, but it certainly came in handy for weighing up my options.
As for George Martin. What the hell’s going on in The Game of Thrones anyway.
All you get is the boy who can’t walk being dragged around in his little caddie chair and dreaming about crows and doing his eye rolling thing. I don’t know where he thinks he’s going. I don’t think he knows either. The tall soldier lady dragging around her one handed captive. Stark’s ward sniveling like a little boy in the corner and not doing anything to help out anyone. O.K. so I know he was tortured, but get a grip man! The oldest daughter just sulks around in fine dresses. The youngest daughter stabs anyone she can get her hands on with her little sword and looks like she smells bad. And dragon lady just wanders around messing in other people’s affairs and generally not really doing much but looking pretty. John Snow just is, and the poor half crusty girl has to sit in her little dungeon room all day reading books.
I only like the dwarf.
Now we have to wait until we get to watch season 6 and I will have forgotten everything that happened and why it happened so none of this will matter anyway.
But with all these options available to me surgery was the least worrying.
Except it messed with my brain man…
And when my brain gets messed with it thinks that this
Is the same size as this.
But it’s not.
And now you have enough big beautiful blue/green rock to make more cabochons than you can count on two hands, which is roughly about one hand too many.
But, I did get a gift.
Because the nice rock man probably knew my brain was a mess.
Could have been worse.
It has got to the point where I daren’t let P into the studio anymore.
If he knew the extent of my (let’s call it) habit I might end up needing surgery on more than my unmentionables.
In other news:
Spud is a nightmare and likes to use Pickles as a spring board to elevate herself to higher levels. Fortunately Pickles is so fat that she doesn’t even know this is happening.
The 100 day project stopped for a couple of days because of Tuesday and the whole brain short circuiting thing, but should be up and running again soon.
I dropped my laptop (again) and now it likes to do its own thing even though I press all of its buttons.
Probably because I press all of its buttons.
And I’ve made a few pieces of jewelry including this
And I’m just now starting another pendant with one of my new favourite stones.
That’s if I manage to get off the sofa today.