pruesaysit

I’m going to hospital on Friday the 13th!! Less than 2 weeks away! Oh my god, biggest relief ever. Could be sooner, but at this point, it will be 13 days away. I’m not the kind to wish the days away, but I seriously can’t wait. Plus, Friday the 13th to me feels like a good sign… but I’m a strange one like that.

Originally published at pruesaysit.com. Please leave any comments there.

I’m home again, home again, jiggidy jig. And it’s lovely! It’s such a relief to be out of that place, in all honesty. It had just become a real downer by the end with the house going up for sale and it throwing everyone into chaos. Inspections and walk throughs and all that kinda bullshit. Being here is like taking a huge big breath in a way. I feel calmer, which is always welcome. I miss the gang though. It’s so strange to email them, or talk on the phone as opposed to a gossip at the kitchen bench. Fun though

Moving, as it always will be, was a total cunt. 7am Friday – 2am Saturday = Big fucking day. Go figure a Volvo can move so much shit??

I’m on the short notice list for my surgery, which means I have to go tomorrow and buy a nightie and some undies and a bag for hospital, just in case I get called in quickly. I’m torn between a nanna nightie and Peter Alexander.

So tired, need to sleep. Gotta be up early.

Originally published at pruesaysit.com. Please leave any comments there.

I'm In!

I went to see the Surgeon today. Apparently I qualify as a ‘Category 2 with a bullet’ which made me feel like a hit on Rick Dees and his weekly Top 40. He went over the procedure with me, explained they ‘don’t screw it up very often, but when they do…yah, big mess’ which obviously put me at ease. *winces* I’ve also been assured that the pain afterward will be fairly horrendous. As a guideline, he said that recovery will be at least 4 weeks. He advises patients don’t go back to work for that long, anyway. I’m kinda surprised how long the recovery is. I mean, I knew it wasn’t going to be rainbows out my arse straight after the surgery, but it doesn’t sound all that pleasant. No driving for ten days. No lifting for 4 months. Oh here’s the kicker… The Surgeon says to me… “I’m not even 50% sure that this will put an end to the vomiting problem.” He feels that getting rid of my Gallbladder and it’s current 30 odd stones who are squatting illegally will certainly relieve the pain I’m in, but he thinks the nausea and hurling is a whole other kettle of fish. Joy of joys! LOL I’m excited about being pain free, but shit man… can’t they just scoop it all out when they’re inside me and I’ll just get a new batch off the black market? That’d be freakin sweet.

I bought a denim skirt today during an arvo at the shops with the Mothership. The ‘trying on clothes’ expedition brought up some strange feelings. I don’t really know how to articulate them without sounding like a complete nutter. I think I need to hit up the Fatosphere for some advice.

Originally published at pruesaysit.com. Please leave any comments there.

Defuzzed. Eyebrows debushed. Toes whored up with Chanel Red polish. Smell like vanilla. Hair straightened. Panadiene Forte, Prozac & Nexium swallowed. Bed to follow. Have my appointment with the surgeon tomorrow, so I’ll then have a better idea of when I’ll be GB free. I think I might cry if he tells me it’s not really soon. Okay, bed now.

Originally published at pruesaysit.com. Please leave any comments there.