It's been a strange couple of weeks.
At the end of April, out of nowhere, I start feeling this knot on my stomach. That's weird. Doesn't hurt. Hmph. It'll go away.
But 2 weeks later, it was SO NOT going away. FINE. Goddammit, fine. I'll call the doctor. I'll use one of my FEW covered doc appointments (thanks to fucking cheapskate changes in my insurance and a shitty economy).
Doc pokes around at it. Says it's a cyst and sends me to a surgeon. He pokes around at it, says not a cyst. Dunno what it is. Will chop open and remove at hospital.
Show up at hospital. Got poked with needles, and given some magic gas. Pass out. Wake up an hour later. Feel odd painful sensation where mysterious lump used to be. Try to touch area. Feels like cotton and gauze cell phone has been taped to my belly. Geezus christ, what did they do to me.
Mr. Buffie says the doc told him no worries. Still dunno what it is, but sending it to the lab. (You mean I go through all this shit and I don't get to keep it? I even brought a jar with me.)
Got home with magic pills. Wake up 2 days later.
Look at incision myself for first time. Fucking cow! That's a HUGE cut. How big was this thing? The doc supposedly said it was small, like a walnut or a pecan. That's got to be a 6 inch incision. Good grief. This suture thing is cool though. There's only one "stitch". It sticks out on one side, goes under my skin and holds it together, then sticks out the other side. Neato.
This thing flippin hurts though. Sitting up really sucks because my belly puts pressure on the cut. Massive bruises, too. Lame lame lame.
But alas, I feel like something is now missing. Over the weeks, I grew close to my new little friend. I had given it a name and had big plans for it. I was going to keep it in a jar with some glitter, like a snow globe. It was going to have a band, too. Lil Tumor and the Tape Worm Twins (the tape worms were going to be supplied by someone else. I don't have tape worms) would release their single "Band in a Jar". It would be a top 40 hit. They would have their own Behind the Music special on VH1. However, it is not to be. The tumor was abducted by someone on the staff at St. Luke's. Certainly they were unaware that they had absconded with a local celebrity.
Geeeeeeezus christ it hurts. I find myself just sitting, in a stupor, wondering when the pain will subside. Yeagh. My second boob job didn't hurt this bad, ironically.
Gas prices have me totally depressed. Unfortunately I've had time to think about it. I've had time to ponder on too much. We're going to have a new president in a few months. Another wealthy suit who doesn't know or give two shits about middle class people like me or my family.
Then I get all bitter about people who abuse the welfare system and how they slowly drain funds from those of us already struggling to make ends meet. I just ~heart~ the saying "if you can't feed em, don't' breed em". Why can't more people take that to heart? If you're struggling and you have 2 or 3 kids, fine. Get some TEMPORARY help. But QUIT popping out kids until your ass can afford them. Oh... and don't bitch and whine about having so little and needing my tax dollars for help when your ass can always afford cigarettes, cell phones, booze, cable tv, and acrylic nails. Government aid is meant for disabled people, the elderly, disadvantaged kids, and those who need TEMPORARY help. It is NOT a way of life or a free ride for some lazy ass who thinks they're entitled to a hand out.
I've spent most of today trying to scrub my brain fee of these thoughts. I'm SO over it. Call me shallow if you must, but there's a reason why I would rather watch E! News over CNN. I can only handle so many bloated politicans, earthquakes, soaring fuel prices, and global warming. Give me info on the latest in purses for summer, lip gloss that smells like bubble gum, where to buy cheap earrings, what cars bounce your boobs the most when you drive over speed bumps, kittens in baskets... You know... Buffie stuff.
I have over a thousand unanswered messages in my MySpace inbox. Gulp. Me so sorry, but I don't think I'll be able to get to all of those in a timely manner. Oh long johnson, why can't I have a fake job where I don't ever leave the house? Is there any way I can get paid for goofing off on MySpace? What about getting paid to nap? Certainly that's worth something.
I am just not quite myself. I miss my friends. I think Kevin is going to visit soon. Chuckwagon better get himself prepared for another princess in the house. Bring on the alcohol and guacamole. Chuck still can't eat a tortilla. Kevin ruined tortillas for him. Way to go, Kev!
The world has to get better. Soon. Or else the news needs to start reporting some of the good things that happen. Too much information is a bad thing, especially when it's all shit shitty crap shit that's making our lives so hard.
What have we here... in the cabinet... I spy chocolate covered almonds. Joy and excitement! Well, that is certainly the best thing I've found today.
Later gators. I have an appointment with yummy goodness.
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