Surgical Procedure
I went to the doctor several weeks ago because there was something wrong with my rotten self. The doctor told me what I had, gave me some medicines and said that if I wouldn't get better in five weeks, then I'd have to call him and he would do something else. Trial and error, very simple.
I did get better but I didn't get a 100%, so at the end of the sixth week I called him. He said that he was busy as hell trying to improve his golf skills, but that he could see me Friday October 29th: yesterday. He said that he would have to do a procedure on me.
So I got there on time and he took care of me on time as well, on time for a doctor at 4:00 PM: thirty five minutes later. He described the procedure to me: he would put some anesthesia, would slice me open and remove whatever he thought was necessary to get rid of the problem [I told him that if he needs to remove my Anaconda, he better makes sure I never wake up again]. Then he would stitch me up and I would be good to go.
I asked him about the chemo therapy and the radiations that would come after the surgery. I also remember hearing my self asking about the fate of my very hairy chest, and if I was gona end with as much hair as an egg. I also mentioned to him my concerns about my recovery in the Intense Care wing of the hospital and if he thought I would survive.
He advised me to find me another dealer because the one that I have right now "is selling you crap instead of crack", and he proceed to explain me for the fifth time that it was a very simple procedure, not a surgery, and that he was going to remove a tiny little something from my lower eye lid. I asked him if he could double the prescription for painkillers, once he was done, because physical pain and moi just "don't get alone very well". He pointed out, waiving a scalpel in his right hand, that this procedure would not require painkillers, not even an aspirin afterwards, and that actually he was considering whether to use anesthesia at all. . .
After my surgery yesterday, and when I was in terrible pain and with a patch in my eye, sitting in my condo, I spoke to a friend of mine who had been to another doctor, a real one, few days ago for some pain in her neck and got a ton of magic pills [painkillers]. I told her about my suffering and she said that if I couldn't sleep, she would hook me up with one of her magic pills, but only one, because she was planning to enjoy'em all. She even point out that she would give one only because "we're good friends", and no she wasn't going to sell me more, no matter how much I was willing to pay for it. I've never had one of those painkillers, but it sounds pretty interesting [and my friend sounds like an addict: "no! those are my pills!"].
I went to bed last night, planning to lie there for a while before calling her due to my pain and asking for something to ease my suffering, but I woke up this morning after more than ten hours of nice sleep and lots of crazy dreams. Dough on!
Maybe I could talk her tonight during our Halloween [the doctor said that it was ok to go drinking] celebrations to share some with me, at least for the hangover tomorrow. . .
I did get better but I didn't get a 100%, so at the end of the sixth week I called him. He said that he was busy as hell trying to improve his golf skills, but that he could see me Friday October 29th: yesterday. He said that he would have to do a procedure on me.
So I got there on time and he took care of me on time as well, on time for a doctor at 4:00 PM: thirty five minutes later. He described the procedure to me: he would put some anesthesia, would slice me open and remove whatever he thought was necessary to get rid of the problem [I told him that if he needs to remove my Anaconda, he better makes sure I never wake up again]. Then he would stitch me up and I would be good to go.
I asked him about the chemo therapy and the radiations that would come after the surgery. I also remember hearing my self asking about the fate of my very hairy chest, and if I was gona end with as much hair as an egg. I also mentioned to him my concerns about my recovery in the Intense Care wing of the hospital and if he thought I would survive.
He advised me to find me another dealer because the one that I have right now "is selling you crap instead of crack", and he proceed to explain me for the fifth time that it was a very simple procedure, not a surgery, and that he was going to remove a tiny little something from my lower eye lid. I asked him if he could double the prescription for painkillers, once he was done, because physical pain and moi just "don't get alone very well". He pointed out, waiving a scalpel in his right hand, that this procedure would not require painkillers, not even an aspirin afterwards, and that actually he was considering whether to use anesthesia at all. . .
After my surgery yesterday, and when I was in terrible pain and with a patch in my eye, sitting in my condo, I spoke to a friend of mine who had been to another doctor, a real one, few days ago for some pain in her neck and got a ton of magic pills [painkillers]. I told her about my suffering and she said that if I couldn't sleep, she would hook me up with one of her magic pills, but only one, because she was planning to enjoy'em all. She even point out that she would give one only because "we're good friends", and no she wasn't going to sell me more, no matter how much I was willing to pay for it. I've never had one of those painkillers, but it sounds pretty interesting [and my friend sounds like an addict: "no! those are my pills!"].
I went to bed last night, planning to lie there for a while before calling her due to my pain and asking for something to ease my suffering, but I woke up this morning after more than ten hours of nice sleep and lots of crazy dreams. Dough on!
Maybe I could talk her tonight during our Halloween [the doctor said that it was ok to go drinking] celebrations to share some with me, at least for the hangover tomorrow. . .
Jean-Francois was drunk at 9:39 AM
2 Comments:
yeah i've held on to that extra vicodin left over from when i got my wisdom teeth out... you never know
Good idea to have some in "reserve". My friend finally told me that she'd end up enjoying all her painkillers by herself... no "magic" for me this time.
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