So, I had the surgery. I'm told it went really well and I got out of the hospital in the time expected. I'm sore and I'm not supposed to do a large variety of things for a while, while my core recovers, but mostly I'm okay. I noticed yesterday that as the day progresses, I get more sore as I tire. All to be expected.
I had some interesting thoughts and then questions about hospital care while I was in there. It seemed that at the beginning, there was lots of care, but by the end, there was a passive-aggressive "go away" vibe going on. I don't know if that's just how hospitals work, or if it was a product of how I was doing or what, but I know I didn't like it.
Also, I had all these thoughts about getting into shape. Because if getting older is going to include trips to hospitals, I should be in better shape for it. It may have been the drugs talking. I *think* about getting into better shape every day. But it hasn't actually happened, so I don't know that I should go counting on it just yet.
The house, as expected, was a pit when I got back. The dishwasher had broken a day or two before surgery, and apparently the people I live with are incapable of doing dishes by hand. Since I got back, that man has ripped out the dishwasher, fixed it, but not re-installed it. That last bit should happen in a day or two, I think. I went out to the kitchen a while a go and all the dirty dishes are gone and dishwasher is running. So, progress, of a sort.
I will say that major surgery is at least distracting from all the emo shit. Maybe I'll come down somewhere different when I'm all over the physical stuff. That was hope that just happened right there, in public, wasn't it? Remarkable.
I've been reading lots of pagan blogs and seeing some predictions for 2011 and one I read is particularly distressing, predicting *martial law* for around August. Bleah. I suppose I will start doing the stocking up/prepping thing again.
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