Tuesday, October 11, 2005

osh gosh b'gosh

Remember that jury duty twins fiasco I posted a few weeks back? Well, I did my civic duty and reported to jury duty today. Yesiree. After an hour and a half of sitting around and watching the jury duty video tape, the announcer (or clerk? is he really the clerk? we weren't in a courtroom...) announced that he was going to read a list of names and "if your name was called, you have to report to courtroom 502, judge blah blah blah presiding, dept. 502 which is the same as courtroom 502." As the names were read, the "chosen ones" walked off with a huff, some muttering "damnit!" as others stomped out of the jury room. After another hour of waiting, the announcer gets back on the microphone and says he has another list of names, "I'll give you instructions after I finish reading this list of names." He goes down the list and my name is on the list (today I was Thigh Le King). I don't notice anyone getting up or anything so I stay put. After he's done butchering names, he gives us the instructions: "If I called your name, you're free to leave. Your jury service is completed for the year." The people around me started whooping and hollering hallelujah, slapping one another on the backs with congratulations. The man sitting next to me shakes my hands and says "We were lucky today, congratulations to you." Wow. I feel sorry for the first group of people who seemed to be walking to their doom instead of celebrating like we were.

Anyhoo, I got a get-well card from the hospital today, signed by the nurses who tended to me during the surgery. Isn't that nice? I also got a voicemail from the nurses checking up on my condition, "We're calling to follow-up and see how you're doing, but don't call us back if you're having any problems. Call your doctor. DON'T CALL US. CALL HIM." Got the message, thanks!

I'm doing miraculously well for just having a surgery with general anesthesia. After my BF picked me up from the hospital, I kept whining about when we were going to eat. I hadn't eaten anything for over sixteen hours and I woke up from the surgery feeling extra hungry. You'd think the hospital would feed you, but no, all I was got was crackers and cranberry juice. Like that's going to hold me over. So as soon as we leave the hospital, I ask for food. Real food. Hamburgers and french fries, or pad-thai or kentucky fried chicken.

My BF didn't believe that I was hungry, said it was all in my head. He's just jealous of my appetite. He gave me 3/4 of a peanut butter and jelly sandwich to shut me up and didn't feed me for another 3 hours, saying that my stomach couldn't handle real food just yet. After his doctor's appointment, he finally gives in and takes me to Burger King because my cravings for french fries turned me into a mad woman yelling "Take me now!" Yes, the boy was afraid and had to give in to my stomach. Boy, that chicken sandwich and two things of fries loaded with ketchup sure tasted good. And no upset stomach afterwards either!

By the time we get to my place, the local anesthesia is wearing off and I begin to feel some pain, but it's tolerable and so I didn't think the pain warranted a whole vicodin pill. So I took half and continue to ice the area. After half an hour or so, I manage to comment to my BF, "I think the ice is working, I don't feel the pain anymore." He's laughing at me and asks "Oh, the ice is it? Are you sure it's not the vicodin?" I still think it's the ice, but I doze off into slumber land which I'm certain is the result of a food coma and the vicodin. I was only able to take a short nap, but that food/vicodin induced sleep sure felt good. And of course I was hungry after I woke up, so made myself some Velvetta shells and cheese for a snack. Yes, I did share some with the Boy.

With bandanges off and all, I'm feeling pretty well and not feeling much pain at all. Well, there's this weird tingly sensation around the wound and I got a little stab of pain when I move my arm into certain positions, but other than that, I'm hunky dory. I'll have to remember to ask the doctor about the tingles. In the end, there's no more lump under my arms, and I still have two breasts in the correct place.

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