Cat in a Cage

I've got nothing clever or profound to say but I want you to know that my internet is very slow. Either that or I am very slow.

The song, What's new Pussycat is stuck in my head. It's better then We at the Pizza Hut, which, thanks to Jay was stuck in my head for over two weeks, but still, that Pussycat is stuck there.  In my head.

I want to go OUT just as the cat and the dog want to go OUT, but I don't know what I'd do if I went OUT and besides, I've got these four obnoxious drains that resemble mini milk jugs, dangling from the bottom of a surgical camisole.  If I walk on all fours and moo I look like a cow with sagging teats. (I need to stop eating cow). They fill up with gunk that oozes from my chest.  I used to pretend the gunk looked like a french martini but now its more pineapplie and it's disgusting.  Maybe if I bedazzle the drains - make little socks to slip over them so you can't see whats in them, but I don't have the energy for that so I guess I'll just stay here in my bed.

I don't need the painkillers. What I'm feeling is more annoying then painful (except for the shots of pain that sneak up out of nowhere or the burning sensation that spreads across my chest and makes me think I caught myself on fire because I know what that feels like).  The only reason I take a painkiller is if I want to sleep and most of the time that is all I want to do.  The painkiller does give you a nice buzz, but still... nothing beats a glass of wine.  So most often, I opt for a sip of wine and a splash of pain over numb to the point where I don't know if I have toes.

Besides, there's nothing wrong with feeling things.

The cat is meowing.  She wants to go OUT. Please stop meowing cat! YES, I want to go OUT too but you don't hear me meowing.  Or maybe you do.

I'm alone for the first time since my surgery.  Mark went OUT.  Part of me wants to do something bad, like eat a bag of potato chips and wash them down with a stick of butter and a bottle of rootbeer.  But I don't have an appetite. I want to watch whatever it is that I want to watch, only noise of any kind annoys me.

I'd call someone but I don't have the energy to talk and everyone's voice annoys me, except for Mark's voice because he's very quiet and he barely talks.  Remind me not to complain about that when I get better.

It's daylight savings this weekend and I am super excited about it! To me, this means one less hour with my drains.  One less hour before I get my pathology report.

The phone is ringing, I hate the sound of the phone ringing and NO I'm not going to answer YOU. Please don't leave a message.  I hate the beep beep beep sound of the answering machine, warning me that I have a message.


I might be suffering from TMA (too much attention). This doesn't mean you should stop reading me, or telling me how wonderful I am, but I am starting to feel undeserving of all the cards, flowers, gifts, food, etc.  I need to thank you all personally. Each gift lifts my spirits but I'll need to do that on my own one day and today, I have no idea how I'm going to do that.

Oh my god, my phone is ringing AGAIN, and now my cell phone is ringing!!! no, no, NO, I'm not going to answer you.  You are just a phone, you can't tell me what to do!!!


How is possible that there is a new Dr. Seuss movie?

I twirled yesterday and today. To me, it seems like a good way to exercise my shoulders so I don't get that "shoulder lock up" they talk about it.  That doesn't sound like fun.  I asked Mark to videotape it and its OUT there somewhere in youtube land - me in my surgical cami with my drains dangling. (if you REALLY want to see it search for greenmonkey27 twirl drains on youtube - but I must warn you, it isn't pretty)

I'm going to take a nap now.... but first I'm going to eat a special shortbread cookies that somebody very special sent me!  YUMMMAYYYY!!!

LOVE to you from Healing MonkeyME........ zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

Mother Daughter Pre-surgical Moments courtesy of Ling Fong's laptop