Finally able to get back to my keyboard - yesterday was too painful to sit in my computer chair. Got lots of flowers, nice balloons that float on strings, cards, and now I guess another surprise is coming to me tonight from the friends who were witnesses at our wedding. I sure do hope it’s a big, juicy, steak, slathered in mushrooms, with a backed potato with real sour cream and cheese, and chopped green onion and… okay mabe not today. However, if ever there was a time someone sent me a gift certificate to Tony Roma’s, now may be the first time I ever kissed them for it.
picunurse: I’m not sure of the exact lyrics, but I’m not sure how much the aneasthesia effected them, anyway. 
The nurses were dancing to it. One of them looked so much like you, and I know I kept murmuring, “M.?* M*.? Is that you?” But she shook her head. She was such a sweetie, too. I must have been hallucinating! Either way, I must remember to write them a little thank you note - I didn’t have even one rude nurse or doctor. These people were professional and friendly, and I would have been much, much more nervous if it hadn’t been for them. I blessed the surgeons earlier, now after this experience, I must include the nurses, too. eyes Cervaise warily
[Pope hat]
God bless the nurses of the world!
[/Pope hat]
FlyingRamenMonster: No, they didn’t let me see the gallbladder! Ick! Or the stone - but they had to crush that thing anyway in order to get it out. I’m a big wuss anyway, even if someone had offered to show it to me, bleh. No, thanks, take it out and throw it away! Begone! Begone with it!
Priceguy: Right on. 
teela brown: I’ve got this whole little “station” set up for me by my husband, with books, movies, my iPod, juice and saltines, my meds, the telephone, a clock so I know when to take my meds (if I need them, I’ve been getting better). I’ve finished the book* Eragon * (hey, fantasy lite is about the only thing I can handle right about now! I keep drifitng off to sleep in the middle of things) and I’ve watched The Princess Bride and most of my MST3K DVDs. I still have to get through MANOS, so that should be a project and a half. I’ve figured out a weird way to laugh so that I don’t curl up in great pain. However, sometimes I forget, and if I watch Conan O’Brien late at night, I feel like I’m laughing myself to death. Ouch. Damn, you Conan.
Khadaji, Napier, anyone I missed: thank you for the well-wishes.
Cervaise, Aguecheek: you two are making me laugh, and it’s painful! 
So far, no real gas has shown up. I’m not much into bathroom humour, but knowing it’s supposed to happen has softened me up a little bit. So far I’ve had nothing but minor burps and the occasional hiccup. I’ve managed far more impressive belches after a pixie stick. However… today I am uncomfortable, and it feels like gas pain. It hasn’t reared (ha!) it’s ugly head yet… but if you hear what sounds like a foghorn across sunny Puget Sound today, I suppose you’ll know what it is. My husband keeps waiting in anticipation for it, himself being a connoisseur of fine flatulance everywhere, but it’s been a major disappointment for him so far. He keeps calling home from work, hoping he doesn’t miss it.
Mr Bus Guy: I must have had an out of body experience and visited you. While having an OOBE, the first thing one does is visit the Invisible Pink Unicorn, then some Swirly Sky Faeries, a few Precious Pixies, God, Buddha, Jesus, and Mr Bus Guy. In that order. It’s the only logical thing to do. Now that I have confirmation that you got my most important message, I must call Sylvia Browne and John Edward and be sure they write several books about it. Be sure to carefully consider my message, as there is a hidden message within. Some huge, cosmic message of peace and love and hope. Something about mares, does, little lambs, kids… and what they eat. It’s all very deep. Help me, Mr Bus Guy. You’re my only hope.
