Nothing happening* right now, Gentle Reader, but lo! On the horizon I espy a bald hip doctor advancing on horseback, X-rays in hand, ready to reach into my leg and pull out the alien invader that threatens world domination!!
March 3rd 8am X-rays 9am Dr. Buly. Pre- pre-op meeting. Site of questions such as:
Really, crutches again?
Am I going to be off vegetables again due to my super-human clotting capabilities?
Will people be arriving at 5.30am again to take blood out of my arm? Couldn't they come at a more civilized hour?
Will I decide again that a brownie a day is an appropriate dietary choice for a mostly sedentary being?
Will my mom make toast and tea and bring it to me in bed, again? (He may not have the answer for this one)
All semi-joking aside, I remember experiencing more than one strong urge to rip into my leg and pull out the metal last summer. This urge required a serious talk with myself about the foreign body that was there to help, and how I needed to let it be. I'm still aware of its presence, especially when I lie on that side, but now I'm feeling an odd nostalgic longing that starts in the middle of my chest when I think about having it removed. It's kept me upright for a year now. Can I do it on my own? What happens when the training wheels come off?
*and by nothing happening of course I mean I still get ass spams and run pretty gimpily.
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