Jun 27, 2011 07:25
Hey guess who spent last night in the hospital!
It turns out that I am the best rockhound EVER. I grew my very own crystal inside my gallbladder. It's shaped like a triangle and just looked SO COOL on the ultrasound that I practically wanted to name it Damien because who's my precious little antichrist who's my widdle hellspawn YES YOU IS
However.
The problem is that gallbladders don't like holding on to people's rock collections, especially big sharp triangley ones with amusingly blasphemous names, so if I ever want to sleep again I need to allow a random stranger to knock me out and gut me with a knife in order to abort my darling demon fetus. They may or may not remove my whole squeedlyspooch along with the geological phenomenon currently stabbing into its tender flesh--I've been told they tend to do this because seriously fuck having all these dumb organs what are they even for--but until surgery time, the magic word is "Vicodin."
Yay!
(CROSSPOSTED BECAUSE THIS WILL AFFECT MY PRODUCTIVITY, PROBABLY)