Never underestimate the power of poop

Here is yet again, another blog update on My Exciting Summer of Surgeries.

SO.

I'm slotted for surgery again tomorrow at 7:15 a.m.

The skin where my incisions are aren't getting good blood flow.  Which will cause a nasty infection called necrosis and will not help me.  So my doctor wants to be agressive (be be agressive) and get this fixed stat.

So let's do this thing. 

Of course, when he called me and told me this was in the works, I had a very human moment and cussed quite loudly in my head.

Multiple times.

I might have even thrown the universe The Bird.

BUT.  It's fixable.  I'm hoping.  I have copious amounts of belly skin, thanks to my two daughters and their horrid pregnancies, that gives me a bit of extra skin to work with.  So, for the first time in my life, I am praising God for obesity.  Ish.  It's not a true tummy tuck, but, hey, anything will help.

For three days upon returning home from the hospital, I moaned and groaned and fought nausea and vomiting.  Oxycontin does not agree with me.  I cannot fathom why people would choose to take that drug if they had a choice.

Can we say CON-STI-PA-TION?  Ugh.  My belly was like a basketball.

But thank God my Hubs is a mighty awesome man who loves me.  I know he loves me because he gave me an enema.

Did I mention that I'd also started my period?

Yep.

He loves me.

Also, I'm keepin in real here on the blog.

SO.  New meds will be given and I shall hope and pray and ask the universe forgiveness for The Bird in hopes that my plumbing runs like clockwork and that the thought of food doesn't make me want to kiss the toilet.

Here are some things to pray for, should you be so inclined:

1.  Well, the not dying thing.  Obvi.  I'd be lying if I said I wasn't concerned about being put under anesthesia for the THIRD TIME IN LITTLE OVER A MONTH.  YES I'M JUST A WEE BIT FREAKED OUT BY THAT.

2.  I am horridly anemic.  It makes me very weak, and once food became my friend again, I started to crave all sorts of meat.  And because me and my body are simpatico and BFFy and stuff, I am giving it all the meat it can handle.

3.  That this new skin will take.  And there's something they put in called Alliderm.  Which, prepare yourself, is human cadaver skin.  And it's in me.  Yes, I'm just a wee bit grossed out by that.  Anyways, that's gotta have blood flow.  So, pray the blood will flow.  Because, I'm not sure what we'll do next if this surgery doesn't take.


I managed to get out of the house today, and dined with my inlaws and kids at Chick-fil-A.  With my four drainage tubes snaking out of the bottom of my shirt, causing me to look like a freak show, I'm sure.  Thankfully, no one gagged at the sight of me, no one pointed to my hairy legs sticking out of my capris, and no one pointed out the Pepe Le Pew stench fumes wafting from my armpits.

I gave a valiant effort last night in the shower (my first one in a week) but try as I might, I couldn't reach my pits to shave or wash them.  I feel like a T-Rex, trying to wash myself.

Alas.

Thank God I live in the Boulder Valley area, where pit hair is as common as perfume in The South.

So.  That's where we're at, folks.  One day at a time.  One procedure at a time.  One bowel movement at a time.

I'll check in next week, assuming I'm mobile and my brain is drug free.