Dolphins are Cuter Than Balloons

DH and I met with Dr. Terrific today to go over our surgery plan.  My laparascopic hysteroscopy with resection (blahblahblah) is scheduled for the 17th, which will totally screw up DH's birthday on the 18th.  Oops.

Dr. T said this should be a fairly routine surgery, but without party pics from Dr. Super and having not seen my uterus in two years, we'll have to see what's really going on in there.  However, Dr. T did mention that after all I've been through, it shouldn't be too bad.  It could be basic, or could be a bit complicated.

A couple of weeks ago, Dr. T called me while I was enjoying a mani/pedi.  He (in so many words) explained to me that he "was up at 4am because of a damn chihuahua barking" and that he "went nekkid into the backyard to shut up that damn dog" and since he "was then already awake", he went into his office and drew pictures of my uterus since he couldn't go back to sleep.  See what I have to deal with?  ;)  He seriously did say all of that, but you have to know him to understand how damn funny it all is.  Anyway . . . he was proud of himself that he remembered to bring his 4am uterine sketches of my bum ute to our appointment today.

Since Dr. Terrificly Crazy won't know until he gets all up in my hooha, we'll have witnessess an assistant surgeon in on the deal.  There will also be a casual observer rep from the medical company who produces some of the new equipment used during my party.  Apparently this "thing" helps with fluid management of my parts during surgery so I don't blow up like a fire hydrant with the cap off.  Okay, not really like that, but I know I'm filled to the gills with saline while Dr. T flies around up in there with his magic scissors and pokers and cameras and poles.  Already thankful for being completely sedated, I won't notice this nosy rep from the company who developed the Dolphin system will be a party wallflower.  He/She/It will make sure the equipment works properly and probably be amazed by the jacked-up state of my bum ute (not to mention the total fuckup shave job I'm given after I'm under, but before this type of surgery).  Hope someone at least brings me a damn hostess gift.

Dr. Terrific is against the balloon, which I did question since I don't want scar tissue to develop again. He said that balloons haven't been used in over a decade, but if we need it, I'll wake up with a tube strapped to my leg. Oh joy.

So . . .

 

really =

For the record, I think the flying mammal fishies are much cuter.

Anyway, I hope to get back into the blogging world now that things are settling down in our world.  I told you that things have been rough, so here is a recap of the past two months.  I'm really too tired to retype it or c&p it, so click the link if you wanna be in the know.  Leave me comments if you will to prove that someone is still reading all of this jibberish.