Thursday I have a procedure to get done. I’m not sure if its considered surgery, so we’ll leave it at procedure. A few posts ago I talked about what led to this ridiculous adventure. Earlier today, the surgery scheduler called to instruct me to drop all aspirin and blood thinners immediately. I couldn’t choke her over the phone, so I obediently surrendered and obliged. Why did I have a brain spasm? Because that means the remainder of this week I have to survive work without my increasingly beloved Perky-cet, which contains Tylenol. I don’t fear a dependence of it. No seizures or foaming of at mouth are noted. Yet. But to sit eight hours on the cheapest desk chair Office Max can manufacture, while my inflamed spine reminds me I don’t love myself, scares me so much I could pee myself. Incidentally, this “procedure” is to prevent exactly that that never happens.
There’s a horrible cycle going on here. Working full-time aggravates my condition. I must work to cover my health bills. My health bills probably causes hemorrhoids. My butt hates my job. You see how it has no start, nor end.
*No, I don’t have hemorrhoids, because if I really did, I probably wouldn’t even joke about it on the internet. I have boundaries, you know? And furthermore, to better cope with the delicate subject area, I’d change the name into something absolutely adorable. Like Poopy-itis.
So yes, today has been a relatively manageable day, but the usual caution of overloading my immune system has gone into the trepidation zone. I have to carefully pace my day so that I may wake up tomorrow feeling like a normal snap-crackle-and-pop 60 year old, rather than a coiled up 95 year old. And then hold those compliant cells until the end of the week. I’m feeding myself blood-boosting smoothies and taking many sitting breaks in between standing tasks in the kitchen.
Meanwhile, my only defense against pain in the direct area of concern is a pill that makes my urine blue. Add that to the vegetable power drink I’m having and what do you get?: blue pee and green poo!
I’ve always said I needed more color in my life.
I apologize to the squeamish disturbed by such inappropriate talk.
For you women who are married to a man, this is nothing. We are insensitive to bodily function humor. Pillow talk is what it is.