Not traveling with Wounded Knee Twomey.
Well, for those of you following along at home, I had my shoulder and bicep surgery yesterday. The month started with Scott’s knee surgery and subsequent bleeding debacle, sick bellies for the dogs, ct scan, and aspirations for the Bumble abscess. Finally, now, I’m the patient. As with marriage anniversary year appropriate gifts, the first year is paper, the 25th is the silver anniversary, while the 23rd is orthopedic surgery.
I had my surgery yesterday with the super handsome Dr. Parsons, who I say is so incredibly handsome that he’s like an eclipse in that you have to avoid directly staring at him. I just hope that while anesthetized I didn’t profess my love for him or verbalize a sex dream that he unwittingly did not know he was starring as the lead actor in. When I came out in the recovery room, the most excellent friend, Mansi Kothari, was there as my guardian angel, who thankfully drew the line on just feeding me, driving me, drugging me, but called a nurse to help me into my skivies. Great judgement! They placed a catheter in my neck, so I’m styling like Frankenstein, as pain meds course into me from a little pain pump purse made be Dolce and Gabapentin. This sweet bag is the bomb and has had me completely pain free. Unfortunately, Dolce will be depleted by tomorrow afternoon. I’m saving my dilaudid for a painy day. The transport person at Mount Sinai put the TRANS in transport, as he/she/they were transitioning gender, while simultaneously transitioning my care from hospital to home.
Now that Scott & I are both home on the disabled list together through January, he spends his time on the couch in the front porch, me in my jacked up recliner complete with USB port for my phone, Yeti on the living room couch and The Bumble odd dog out, as 1 of 2 scenarios will unfold. Scenario 1) The Orthopedic Gift of the Magi, in which he will be my arms and I will be his legs trading personal comfort for the comfort of the other. Or Scenario 2) Big Brother-wedded and stuck home together for 60 days at Home Edition. In this version, Scott will continue to bombard me with steady airings of Fox News. Ann Coulter, and Sean Hannity, while I seek to annoy him with continuous speaker phone conversations with co-workers with a backdrop of Mumford & Sons and the Lumineers in the background. May the best cripple win!
Rubber Chicken 