Day 7 Thyroidectomy
So it's day 7 of my recovery from Thyroid surgery. Which is sort of why I started this blog in the first place. Resting and recovery are good things in moderation but also very, very, boring; minus the Copious amounts of pain meds and Ben & Jerry's. I am also convinced that my pain meds give me nasty, sex dreams about my surgeon, whom I might add is about 30 years older than me! Gross. I feel so dirty. The worst part is he probably saw all my naughty bits and my fat, dimpled, ass tattoo! I'm so glad I was asleep for that.
I think I have successfully watched ever single episode of "Snapped" and "Roseanne". I'm pretty sure I know now how to commit the perfect crime of properly murdering my spouse, should the need to do so ever arise. Just kidding, just kidding.
It is amazing how many husbands and wives poison and/or elaborately plan out murderous schemes for their significant others. Makes me wonder is divorce really that bad? Too expensive? Not satisfying enough? What exactly made these people "snap"?
I mean sure husbands leave socks on the floor and toss their boxers carelessly a mere two inches from the hamper but I don't think that's worthy of the death penalty or anything. I mean sure sometimes I fantasize about pushing my husband down the stairs now and again when I get angry but I think that's totally normal. Right?
So I have to say over all the worst part of the surgery was not actually the incision but the tube they used to intubate me or "help me breath" while I was anesthetized. I woke up and felt like I was throat raped by a baseball bat covered in fire ants. I had the worst sore neck, throat and back for 4 days! Makes me worry about what was really going on while I was asleep. I have elaborate, twisted, visions of seedy, hospital, photographs floating around taken by the hospital staff of my naked, fat, sleeping, ass. I hope I don't end up the joke at a some hospital Christmas party! Obviously I have a bit of a wild imagination and I tend to get carried away. It's probably the pain meds.
My friends and I have decided that the cover story behind my thyroid scar is going to be that I was shanked by another inmate while serving time in the big house. I had a disagreement over certain toiletry items and things escalated quickly. I had to kill the other inmate after she brutally shanked my neck, almost killing me. After all those were my mini, french milled, dolphin soaps and they were worth the fight!
I think I have successfully watched ever single episode of "Snapped" and "Roseanne". I'm pretty sure I know now how to commit the perfect crime of properly murdering my spouse, should the need to do so ever arise. Just kidding, just kidding.
It is amazing how many husbands and wives poison and/or elaborately plan out murderous schemes for their significant others. Makes me wonder is divorce really that bad? Too expensive? Not satisfying enough? What exactly made these people "snap"?
I mean sure husbands leave socks on the floor and toss their boxers carelessly a mere two inches from the hamper but I don't think that's worthy of the death penalty or anything. I mean sure sometimes I fantasize about pushing my husband down the stairs now and again when I get angry but I think that's totally normal. Right?
So I have to say over all the worst part of the surgery was not actually the incision but the tube they used to intubate me or "help me breath" while I was anesthetized. I woke up and felt like I was throat raped by a baseball bat covered in fire ants. I had the worst sore neck, throat and back for 4 days! Makes me worry about what was really going on while I was asleep. I have elaborate, twisted, visions of seedy, hospital, photographs floating around taken by the hospital staff of my naked, fat, sleeping, ass. I hope I don't end up the joke at a some hospital Christmas party! Obviously I have a bit of a wild imagination and I tend to get carried away. It's probably the pain meds.
My friends and I have decided that the cover story behind my thyroid scar is going to be that I was shanked by another inmate while serving time in the big house. I had a disagreement over certain toiletry items and things escalated quickly. I had to kill the other inmate after she brutally shanked my neck, almost killing me. After all those were my mini, french milled, dolphin soaps and they were worth the fight!
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