I can’t stomach this anymore.
Debby left a comment asking for a picture. And while I’m sure that she meant a CLOTHED picture, a few days ago I toyed with the idea of taking a picture of my Frankenstein-like incision, mostly for my own morbidly curious pleasure. Of course, I wouldn’t post it, but I laughed at the idea of her face when she opened her email and saw this hideous anchor-shaped scar. Ha!
Man, these painkillers are making me weird.
I’m going crazy staying at my parents’ house. I want to go home to my stuff and my cat. But I can’t, because I can’t lift ANYTHING and I can’t bend over at all. So I need someone around to help me move stuff and pick things up. It sounds stupid, but you have no idea how much you take for granted your abilities to just pick up your laptop and carry it around, or open the bottom drawer of the refrigerator to get the cheese out.
That goes along with how much we never know how much our abdominal muscles are involved in EVERY DAMN THING until a big expensive flashy doctor with a disgusting show-off Maui tan tells you not to use them. These things include (but are not limited to):
laughing
sneezing
coughing
crying
breathing
blowing your nose
choking on watermelon (ok, that’s a bad idea for a few reasons)
sitting up
sitting down
rolling over
playing dead.
This is not easy, people.
Also what is not easy is watching what a total bitch my sister is to my parents, and how they just roll over and let her be. This has been a problem for me for a while. I hate it.
This morning my grandma came over, and we had a nice racism-filled conversation. First, while we were talking about dogs (her cat Sweet Pea [who was neither sweet nor pea-sized] was killed by a dog down the street a few weeks ago), she made a comment that it seems engrained in dogs’ DNA to hate mailmen. And then she said, “You know the only good things about Mexicans is the dogs. Those chihuahas next door bark as soon as the mail man is on our block. So I always know when the mail’s here!” After that, we were talking about hurricane Katrina, and all the crap that happened, and she said, “And you know what I can’t believe? Those people* re-elected that Mayor Nigger. Nayger. Nigger. Nager. Nigger. You know who I mean.”
*Those people = black people
But the best thing she said was when she was getting ready to leave, and we were talking about Bob Barker leaving The Price is Right. She said she couldn’t watch it anymore because she hd no respect for Bob after having all those affairs with The Barker’s Beauties. She said, “Every time he’s on TV all I think about is some model on her knees in front of him with her face in his crotch.”
That’s coming from my 75 year-old grandmother.
Enjoy.
15 Comments »
Comment by Meany
June 26, 2007 @
Haha! Tell your grandma to move to Georgia, she’ll fit right in.
Feel better soon, skankface.
Comment by albannach
June 26, 2007 @
Anchor shaped scars? I think ALL surgeries should involve them.
Comment by warcrygirl
June 26, 2007 @
Anchor shaped scar? Jesus, next you’ll be getting a tattoo of the word “MOM” on your forearm. You realize now you have to talk like Popeye, right?
Comment by spark and foam
June 26, 2007 @
You will be the envy of the yacht club with your new anchor-shaped scar. XO Violet
Comment by Woman with Kids
June 26, 2007 @
Oh. My. God. The pictures in my head are awful… Thanks Grandma.
Comment by Debby
June 26, 2007 @
Hahaha, actually I think it would be really interesting to see the scar. I was more meaning unclothed pictures, not like nsfw-ness or anything, just a picture of the tummy. Does that make me weird?? I’m a Nip/Tuck fan so maybe that has something to do with it. I don’t know, I’m going to shut up before people start thinking me odd. I’m just interested in plastic surgerys like that, cause I am not so thin and have toyed with the idea…..although if I did anything it would probably be my arms.
Annnnnnnnywaaaay, sorry to hear about your missing home. 
I know how that can be. I’d help you out, but um, I don’t like like anywhere near you so………..yeeeeah. Feel better soon though!!
And I hope I didn’t weird you out to much, lol.
Comment by Joey
June 26, 2007 @
Oh Andria, I can so relate! After I had my major abdominal surgery with a wonderful colostomy as a parting gift, I too had to stay with my mother. It was hell. Laying on the uncomfortable couch from 1991, sleeping in the bed I slept in as a teenager and having to watch “old people” shows on the only TV. It sucked. The only good thing was mom’s home cookin and watching the drama ensue when my alcoholic step-dad came home from the bar every night walking into walls and slurring his speech. Isn’t life great at the parents????
Comment by scotvalkyrie
June 26, 2007 @
When I had the TAH to remove all my diseased girly bits, the best peice of advice I got was to have a little soft throw pillow at all times to squeeze against the tummy when getting up, sneezing, coughing . . . something about using the arm muscles to gently press against the savaged tummy muscles, it just seems to help. Oh, and yeah, if I ever had to live with my folks again, I’d lock myself in an AirStream trailer first.
Comment by GoingLoopy
June 27, 2007 @
I think I would bribe my friends to come take care of me. Or tell my mom to come take care of me without my stepfather around….
Hope you get to go home soon.
And our grandmas would totally get along.
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Comment by Lando
June 25, 2007 @
which, incidently, is also the reason bob barker is revered.