Out
I'm out of the hospital with no removals of offending Cylon (or other) parts. Yay! Because it's not a critical issue, the cost of surgery now would be in excess of my total income over the past 6 years, which is quite impossible. If it gets bad again then they will probably do it but hopefully that will not be an issue. For now it's small portions, a bland diet for a while (my personal Hell!), Nexium and a delicate balance of fiber. (Too little and I get diverticulitis, too much and this might happen again.) I had to play that game with potassium for years and while it's a huge drag, it's doable. I've been watching my diet all year so this is just an addition to that really. (I did think at one point that an operation would, if nothing else, take me down to my ideal weight but that's not a cool way to get there!!!)
The worst part of all of this is that if I got in the car now (my stuff is still packed) I could make it to Dallas in time for the con. I'd probably melt down somewhere along the 14 hour drive, no doubt in a town in the Texas panhandle where they would deny me medical care and the townspeople would laugh, mock and kick me as I laid screaming in the dusty street. (Then I'd have to come back as an avenging spirit and paint the town red and burn it down and all of that, which is way too tiring and I'm really past that sort of stuff.) Or it would happen at the con and I'd be in my room and nobody wants to see a whiny, puking me, including me. So I will miss it and just hate myself until next A-kon, which I will make even if they have to prop my body up behind my table and tape a Robot Chicken-like paper smile on me.
(It's sad that this could be an elaborate plot by my Cylon colon to avoid having lunch with Darth and Alicia, because I enjoy it so much and especially since I still feel so bad for not even seeing Alicia but sleeping in her house in February. My run as The Worst Houseguest in The World continues...)
It's not really that bad in the greater scheme of things and it's not shortening my life or anything like that so it really doesn't matter. There will always be pain but it's my choice to add the suffering to it. No more self-pity and whining!
I think I will go up into the mountains this weekend. Sit on a mountain, eat a peach or two and meditate. Yeah...
The worst part of all of this is that if I got in the car now (my stuff is still packed) I could make it to Dallas in time for the con. I'd probably melt down somewhere along the 14 hour drive, no doubt in a town in the Texas panhandle where they would deny me medical care and the townspeople would laugh, mock and kick me as I laid screaming in the dusty street. (Then I'd have to come back as an avenging spirit and paint the town red and burn it down and all of that, which is way too tiring and I'm really past that sort of stuff.) Or it would happen at the con and I'd be in my room and nobody wants to see a whiny, puking me, including me. So I will miss it and just hate myself until next A-kon, which I will make even if they have to prop my body up behind my table and tape a Robot Chicken-like paper smile on me.
(It's sad that this could be an elaborate plot by my Cylon colon to avoid having lunch with Darth and Alicia, because I enjoy it so much and especially since I still feel so bad for not even seeing Alicia but sleeping in her house in February. My run as The Worst Houseguest in The World continues...)
It's not really that bad in the greater scheme of things and it's not shortening my life or anything like that so it really doesn't matter. There will always be pain but it's my choice to add the suffering to it. No more self-pity and whining!
I think I will go up into the mountains this weekend. Sit on a mountain, eat a peach or two and meditate. Yeah...