I've been resting quietly today...having a bit of pain, but trying not to dose up because I need to not be on narcotics. They're no fun without vodka anyway.
I forgot to mention that yesterday on my way out of Jewish Hospital after getting the drain tube removed, I was waiting on the elevator where a toad of a woman in hideous shoes and a trenchcoat actually gasped at me. Seriously, she clutched her pearls and gasped! I mean, certainly, I look a bit, shall we say, extreme at the moment. If I saw someone who looks like he's been bashed in the head out shopping at the Kroger, I might accidentally lose composure. But, as I mentioned, we were AT A HOSPITAL! Doesn't a reasonable person expect to see some jacked-up looking folks? She's quite fortunate that I was feeling very nauseated at the time, and did not see fit to get annoyed with her little display of foolishness until I made it to a seat in my car because on a normal day, I would have told her, "Stare all you want, heifer, because swelling is temporary, but tacky is forever!"
I wonder how long it will to take me, if when the swelling goes down everything really is gone, to stop thinking someone is staring at me, or to dread talking to strangers because they ask questions I don't feel comfortable even hearing? (A brief aside: I choose my friends carefully enough that I don't know any of them who are ignorant enough to ask a total stranger about what is clearly a personal medical condition. In case others read this blog, don't do it. If a kid has a purple spot, don't ask the mom what is "wrong" with her child, and if an adult has something unusual that looks like an injury, don't ask what happened to them. It isn't friendly banter, it is rude and intrusive, and leaves you open to be Zsa Zsa'ed by any sensible person.) I can't imagine I ever will at this point in my life. Perhaps I'll always expect a really chatty checkout girl to share that she looked just like me after her wisdom tooth extraction since it has happened to me virtually every day of my 32 years on this planet. My grandmother tells me I often expect too much of people. I don't think it is too much to expect that you don't ask about someone's medical issues until you've known them for a bit. I also don't think it is too much to expect someone to have the IQ of a sea sponge, but then again, I'm a bit of a bigot in that arena, and I would probably be a better person if I opened myself up to those who aren't as smart as my friends.
You realize, of course, that item is going on my priority list somewhere below getting Truman in shape to run the Iron Kitty Triathalon.
Thursday, February 02, 2006
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