Post Surgery Post (see what I did there?)

The ninjas have been officially evicted. Pathology results in early next week, but all looked good and went well. For those with lower TMI limits, now might be a good time to stop reading, although I have spared the rest of you accompanying pics.

Possible side effects of the surgery: some swelling in the groin area. That's like saying if you run into a burning house you may experience heat. Holy crap. The boys look like they were on a McDonald's diet for the last 3 years. If your groin could be termed obese, mine is morbidly so. And the color - oh my, you don't find this shade of purple much outside the eggplant display at a farmer's market. It's like the Elephant Man and Barney had a child, and it became my groin. Needless to say, there's discomfort involved, but the good news is that can helped by elevating them. They suggest a rolled towel. I was thinking of a wheelbarrow. I'm exaggerating; I'm sure a softball catcher's mitt would work, and be eminently appropriate.

Let's move north. Anesthesia has a side effect of putting your digestive tract to sleep. It needs to reboot, to start itself back up, otherwise you have a whole new problem to deal with. What it really does is turn you into a 90 year-old man, looking forward to a good bowel movement with the same excitement as a 6 year-old on Christmas morning, who finds out his parents are actually masochists who wrap empty boxes, delighting each time their precocious child registers that look of confusion and disappointment. I was that 90 year-old. I was that 6 year-old.

To help this digestive reboot along, they recommend both small, frequent meals and walking as much as possible. Neither of which I'm in the mood to do. The eating? I have no appetite at all. The walking? You must not have read paragraph 2. But I do both anyway, since I'm a good patient and I know this will help. Someone told me their husband thought they saw me walking the other day; he told her I looked like I was limping. I didn't have the heart to tell her on the phone I was actually waddling, nor why. I imagine in a few more days I'll be looking like the Penguin from Batman. Quack, Quack. Peace.