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rue-madame's Diaryland Diary


Final pre-op complaints

TA bathed and fed me this morning, managed to wrangle my ratís nest into a clip, prepared my lunch, dressed me, then drove me to my studio.

ďHey itís like youíre a single father and Iím your kid. Itís like Mr. Mom or something!Ē

ďYeah, except Iím not very good at it, your lunch isnít as nutritious as it could be and Iím late for work.Ē

Thank god I can still wipe, and thank god Michael Keaton doesnít have to see me this way.

Tomorrow I will feel slightly better because itís Methotrexate day. Can I tell you how much I am looking forward to being anesthetized for surgery? A lot. That will make every pain I have (from rheumatoid arthritis, from menstrual cramps) disappear. I hope they give me good painkillers for after. I donít even care what color cast they give me, as long as they give me The Drugs.

Last night I used Bravo to numb myself. I saw every Blow Out episode broadcast between 7 and 10 pm, then watched a full hour of Queer Eye (I was very excited to hear one of the Fab Five say ďThe GaysĒ because I use that all the time! Example: The Gays have a knack for home deco, or The Gays have catty all locked up.) Anyway, it was just what I needed. Under normal circumstances, I would not have been transfixed by so much television, but I couldnít really move and holding a book was too painful. Yes, you heard me: reading hurts.

In trying to describe the pain to TA, I came up with this analogy: itís like you have the worst sort of caffeine withdrawal throbbing headache in every joint, and in all of the tissue surrounding your skull. When my nephew was really tiny, he proclaimed that he had ďa headache in my neckĒ--well I now know how that feels. The other thing about the discomfort is that when you move, sometimes thereís a sharp pain that makes you think you might actually break, rendering the similarities between me and Mr. Glass only too apt.

12:51 p.m. - 2005-06-08



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