I’m still truckin’.

More than 30 hours have passed since my cyst was removed, and I’m pleased to report that the excision was dreamy, and that I’m currently walking around with an ice pack in my pants because when the numbing shots wore off, my hip began to burn like a Blister in the Sun. (You’re welcome, Children of the 80s.) Oh, the burning! Like a fire beneath my waistband! (It will be better tomorrow.)

Hip and Cold

During the procedure (as I lay (dying, William Faulkner) on my side with shoes, glasses, underpants and everything else on, because everyone knows that I tend to roll with modesty), I asked the surgeon if the cyst was solid, liquid, or gaseous.

Surgeon: It’s solid with a bunch of scar tissue. Do you want to see it?

Me: NO!!!!!!! No, thank you!!! Um, yes. I do.

I turned my head around as the surgeon held up a little wiggly finger-like object.

Me: Vili Fualaau!

Surgeon: What?

Me: I was making a villi slash Mary Kay Letourneau joke. It wasn’t funny. Can I eat that thing so it remains a part of me? Never mind. I’m not making sense.

Surgeon: In a few seconds, you’re going to start smelling something that might seem a little strange.

(She was right.)

Me: That smells delicious! What is it?

Surgeon: Cauterization. It’s your skin. Basically, this is what you would smell like if you were cooking.

Me: I smell like a barbecued pork chop! Does everyone smell like a pork chop?

Surgeon: All skin pretty much smells the same.

Me: It’s funny, because I’m free range and corn-fed. I would imagine my burning flesh to smell more like a portobello mushroom!

Moral of the Story: You might think you’re better/smarter/cuter/et cetera than (insert your foe’s name here), but at the end of the day, you both smell like delicious pork chops when your skin is on fire. Sleep tight.
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15 thoughts on “I’m still truckin’.”

  1. Oh, geez.

    Is there someplace where we can nominate this for “Post of the Week”? Or month, even?? Heck, this one could even be a contender for “Post of the Year” !!!

    Angela Pudding — She’s simply Sizzleicious

  2. And that’s why the cannibals refer to us as “long pig”, or so my dad used to tell me. I had a lot of nightmares as a child.

  3. You know what, you may not want to read that unless you have a really strong stomach. Feel free to delete the link, even. I’m having second thoughts about even sharing it here!

  4. So what you’re saying is that when you decide to quite vegetarianism, you’re just going to go full on cannibal. That or they gave some pretty nice drugs.

  5. They gave me the SAME drugs when I had a cyst removed….I only remember flirting with the doctor until they put me to sleep, but I know there was more.

  6. Ignore this comment — am just (*finally*) taking steps to post with my actual-factual e-mail addy instead of the disposable hotmail one at which I (infrequently, due to almost never thinking to check that one) am amazed and astonished to find comments back from the constantly amazing and astonishing Angela Pudding! :-)

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