Met with the orthopedic surgeon today, got my x-ray and everything. Damn woman! She’s all grabbing my wrist and bending it around and jabbing her fingers into it. Does this hurt? Well, yes, as a matter of fact it does fucking hurt. You’re jamming your goddammed fingers into an unnatural growth in my body!
Yeah, you know that twisting? The pulling? that hurts too!
Actually, she was pretty cool about it. Scheduled surgery and got everything all set up. Neat? Yeah.
The shitty part about this is that I will have to forego the 666 birthday party. Shit. This sort of thing happens once in a…I don’t know, a century? Well, suffice to say I’ll not be around or in a partying sort of mood the next time it happens.
Is it totally wrong to reschedule your surgery so you can have a party? Seriously? Because I was really looking forward to this. I wonder if this has anything to do with my mom and her praying. MOM! Did you pray me out of my apocalyptic party?? DID YOU??? Don’t you forget I’m gonna be picking out your nursing home!
Shady Acres Rest Home or Square Peg in a Round Hole Home for Delinquent Seniors? Your choice, mom…your choice. Stop praying me out of my hell-themed birthday parties.
hmmmm early surgery or good birthday party…
oooh, also I learned that I lost the statistics game with this damned cyst. It seems that if you have one and you have it removed there is only a 20% chance of getting another one. If you beet the 80% and get your second cyst and have it removed then you’re pretty much assured to get them forever. Or something like that. Me, I’m the statistical freak!
and now, I will leaver you to ponder this…is it really so wrong to drink beer and watch your dog try to hump a pillow? is it? (no, I didn’t actually let him)