Post-Op!

2006-09-06, 9:41 p.m.
I have just gone back and read through this entry. I am clearly still under the influence of mind-altering drugs. I apologise.

Well, I did it. It was unspeakably vile. They gave me the abso-FLIPPIN-lutely minimum of sedative so I wasnt even woozily sleepy through the whole thing, just immobile and a bit sad-feeling. I only cried once, when it really REALLY hurt and a nice nursey wiped my face with a tissue and said "its OK", which it wasnt. Afterwards, I asked the same nursey if I had sworn at all (as, of course, the sedative stareted to kick in once I was in the recovery room)and she said "only once" in a little whisper. I think I said "OwfuckOWfuckOWfuckOWfuck" as it was hurting enough for me to say both "OW" and "fuck". Bizarrely, none of the nurses had a pen to fill in the post-procedural paperwork and I was compos mentis enough to say "Oh for Gods sake, when I go back to work on Friday I'll send you some bloody pens". I will too. We have nice ones with flowers on and our phone number.

After a cup of tea and one of those jammy sandwich biscuits (they're weird arent they? You can leave them in the tea for ages, until the biscuit practically disintegrates, but the jam stays perfectly solid), they let me get dressed and then I just waited for BF to come get me. The poor feller in the bed opposite had come in or something else and then the docs just decided he should have a colonoscopy. He hadnt prepared for it or anything. He was a big shaven haired lump of a feller, over 6', around 16 stone, with tattoos, earring and a nice broad Chav-ville accent....

like you used to have Stepfieeeee, before your mama paid for those Hell-O-Cue-Shee-On Lessons
Shut up, shut up, I did NOT.
Did soooooo. Shirley Girl.
I AM NOT FROM....well, OK, I am, but it was a NICE, resPECtable suburb when we lived there
Chu-ah. Riiiight

.......anyways. He was obviously totally shit-scared and was asking me lots of questions about pain and whether it was horrible and whether he was gonna be OK etc etc. I got the distinct impression that nobody had ever ever EVER put anything up his bottom before. Which either means he's not too boring in the sack or he's never been out with a girl who knows the old whore's trick to hurry up a boring shag of...oh. TMI? Sorry.

So I lied. I said, "its not too bad, actually." I feel a cad (cadette? whats the fem form for cad ferchristsake?) for lying but what could I do? I was just trying to be kind. At one point he got out of bed. He was wearing a hospital gown and black sport socks. I said "Mmm, stylish", and he said "Y'think so?" and started to do a twirl, before suddenly remembering that hospital gowns only do up AT THE NECK and stopping mid-pirouette.

When BF came to collect me (bearing NO GIFTS BTW, no flowers, no Filet-O-Fish, no nothing!), I gave my little socio-economic inferior a little wink and a "you'll be fiiiiine". He responded with a weak little wave. I hope he was OK. Maybe he liked it. Maybe he's at home now with the donut filler from his wife's baking set a length of flexi-hose and the cam-corder set to 'Zoom', re-enacting with gusto scenes from "Wayne Goes to Endoscopy".

Back home for a little snooze whilst BF did a couple of hours teaching. In the safety of the boudoir, and whilst the junior guitar gods gave it some welly on their pentatonic scales, I did...wait for it...a SEVEN SECOND FART. Thats a big fart. Go on. Count seven seconds. No! Not 1234567 like that! you have to go 1 Mississippi 2 Mississippi 3 Mississippi, like that! That's a big fart. Later in the evening BF and I disussed it, like the middle-aged pillars of respectability that we are. I dont fart in front of BF (I am a Laydeeee, after all!) so he was a bit gutted that he missed it, but he was suitably impressed, particularly once I'd explained that there was no loss of volume or tone for the full duration thereof. No tailing off towards the end. No pathetic little phhhhpuhhh, or anything like that.

Thunderous headache for the whole evening (either from lack of food or from a big FAT caffeine deficiency as Id been Java-less since Monday morning) so no sex AT ALL when we went to bed. BooHoo. This morning, BF, the sneaky swine, got a hand-job under false pretences (ie by making me think he wasnt "quite as far down the tracks" as he'd apparently travelled. Needless to say, he hit the buffers before I'd even got on the bloody train) so he OWES ME BIG TIME tonight.

Im still a bit wasted from the sedative so Im not going to work tomorrow. Instead I am picking my mum up to go to the cash and carry to get some napkins in the RIGHT colour for my birthday party, which is in 10 DAYS TIME. Squeeeeeeeeee!!!!!

Tomorrow (or somewhen jolly soon) Im going to write about my party as Im starting to get quite excited about it.

Oh, and one of the girls from work (the one who came to dinner a few weeks ago) brought me round some flowers. They were ex-photoshoot so a bit battered, and they were mostly alstro (which I dont really like)but it was a nice gesture.

yay.

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