This was my weekend.For the past month I have planned to take my best friend Neal out to dinner at Ruth's Chris Steakhouse in Virginia Beach for his birthday on the 26th. Finally the day comes around, Neal comes to my house to get me and where do I end up? The emergency room at Langley with a particularly vicious gallbladder attack. I apologize profusely to Neal who tells me, "Really Shannon, if you didn't want to go out all you had to do was say so. You didn't have to be so dramatic..." and I go home. WHERE do I end up at 0730 Saturday morning? Same emergency room, different bed, much better medications. I guess you had to be in the first bed to get the good stuff...you know what they say, "Location, location, location!"
While I was there I was treated really well, both times. I suppose I should have asked them if they had a card they could give me so I could punch up some frequent flyer miles. The one nice doctor I had there at the beginning of my first visit and the end of my second visit told me that he was going to call in a surgeon whose name I won't put here without his permission. I talked to the surgeon and he seemed really nice...I was however hopped up on morphine so I could have been hallucinating. I do remember him telling me that he was wanting to take out my gallbladder on Tuesday...which is today, then I'll stay overnight and come home on Wednesday, I agreed. I mean, come on what did I care? All my words were pretty much monosyllabic at that point anyway.
Yesterday I went and got myself all situated for surgery. By the way, I was right, the surgeon is really great and it wasn't just the morphine. I'll be having my surgery in a little while and I'm planning to make a bet with the surgeon that if I come through the operation and recovery without whining that I'll get to drive his car. He's got a really nice car. Just kidding...not about the car being nice, but about me driving it. Oh nevermind! UGGGHHH!
Even if I was going to make a bet it wouldn't matter because I'd lose. I have every intention of whining like a baby when this is all over. Then I'm gonna go get something to eat. I'm really hungry.
I'm cool with the surgery. I don't need that silly green bag anyway. That particular shade of green just clashes with my other organs and therefore must go.
Neal has already planned to come see me in the hospital and says that he is going to make me laugh. Neal is a dipwad. Neal forgets that in the winter he is going to have a hernia operation and that I am not above flying down here from AK just to pay him back for making me laugh after my abdominal surgery. Neal forgets these things and shall be reminded. Neal is a silly boy who will be in immense pain and I won't care because as we all know, payback is a bitch.