March 22, 2006
I didn't write anything yesterday. I felt like Fido's ass. I suppose that I'm going through a healing process, but a pain like a throbbing toothache settled in my belly and just wouldn't quit all day. I tried walking. (That's a laugh--- just imagine the stove-up scuttling of an arthritic crab, only not so graceful.) I tried sitting. I tried various positions in the bed and on my sofa. I couldn't get comfortable or stop hurting no matter what I did.
Did you ever develop a "stitch" in your side while running? Well, just imagine that stitch running from your sternum to your crotchital area and covering BOTH sides at once. That's what I had, only worse. I believe the doc bruised my innards when he cut on me.
I feel better today. Once I finally managed to go to sleep last night, I fell into a 12-hour coma filled with tumultuous dreams of booger-men chasing me with baseball bats and chainsaws. I think I had a long conversation with my dead father, too. The weirdness quotient was very high.
Today I feel no worse than if I were kicked in the gut by a large and ornery mule, and that's a vast improvement from yesterday. I don't want to jinx myself, but I'm hoping that the worst is over now. I don't go back to the doctor for my follow-up visit until Monday, and I think I've suffered enough already to tide me over until then.
The good news is that I'm not running any fever, my wound appears to be healing with no infection and I'm almost able to talk again. Besides, if I can sit in this computer chair without feeling as if someone just ran a red-hot spear through my innards, I'm better off than I was.
One thing that really chaps my Cracker ass is the fact that I can't plant my garden this week. A nice rain fell yesterday morning, perfect for wetting in the fertilizer I spread, and today appears to be a real beauty, with blue skies and sunshine. I already missed St. Patrick's Day for planting my Silver Queen corn, and every day that passes now is one more day past prime conditions. I just ain't up to doing it right now.
But I AM up to thanking this lovely lady for calling to check up on me and to ask if there was anything she could do to help me out. I've met some effervescent, incandescent, cheerful, outgoing, enthusiastic people in my life, but Kelly puts most of those folks to shame. She's a spotlight among 20-watt bulbs. Bejus! If she could syphon off some of her good-vibe energy and bottle it, I would buy a case.
Heh. I'm going to fix her happy wagon the next time she does that. I'm going to moan piteously, whimper in pain and ask her to come clean my house.
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