Anyhoo... after a pretty bad run of pain for two days, I decided to check in to a hospital. Needless to say, I was a bit surprised when I was told I needed to go into surgery. Fun, fun.
My new television
Apparently, In addition to surgery, I was told I was suffering from a potassium deficiency, and so the lovely nurses (actually, two of them sucked... but the rest were cool) pumped me full of three bags of the stuff (the little IV bag above is potassium). In case anyone doesn't know, potassium hurts like Hell when given intravenously.
My new canteen
Got some cool scars out of the deal... one of them is from the tube this little device left in my abdomen. It's called a Jackson-Pratt drain. They wouldn't let me keep it.
My new bluetooth
Three IV entry points on my poor arms. One on the right (for the antibiotics) and two on the left (including one in my biceps).
My publicist/producer giving birth to Starbuck
The hospital released me into the care of my friends, Pat and Tara, who took me home, at which point we discovered my house was a disaster (thanks to an irresponsible neighbor who left my dog locked in my friggin' bedroom). Between that and the fact that I was on drugs, Tara refused to let me stay there, and so took me to her house and nursed me for three days. On the ride there, Starbuck was somehow born again.
Anyway, I'm sure I bored everyone who read this. I'm gonna pop a vicodin and get some sleep.