"And how do you like your Pop Tarts caller?"
"Well, I like plain strawberry Pop Tarts toasted with lots of butter."
"How much butter ?"
" I use two big globs of it, and it melts all over, and then I eat this butttery strawberry pastry mess, yum."
" Really? I like chocolate Pop Tarts with the white icing..."
I took me a minute to realize that I was torturing myself before I reached over and smacked the off button. Then just now I was trying to help Scott figure out how to get a celebrity sign on and sign off sound for his computer and was looking at the David Letterman sign off that I use and there was this little button that said, Late Night Snack Sounds. I thought maybe that might be something funny and new to try sound wise and come on, it's a whole bunch of photos and recipes for cupcakes and grilled cheese sandwiches, things I just can't have now. Things it feels like I will never again eat.
Oh well that's okay, I'll just keep drinking my little one ounce medicine cups of protein slurge and cheating by having cottage cheese and cream of wheat two weeks early, and I've got these lovely ice chips to keep me full. I can content myself with the pound a day I've been losing. I have got to increase my walking though. And I've been wondering if massage is okay so close to surgery. I'm still paranoid about the whole blood clots in the legs, fatal embolism to the lungs thing.
It just occurred to me that I never have to lie in that miserable hospital bed, nauseous and in moderate pain, in a sweat drenched gown, with blood dripping out of some tube coming out of my abdomen that the catch bulb has popped off of, with the iv machine beeping, while I wait for some guy named Roman, from some third world country, who is apparently the only person in the hospital who will be able to stick another iv in me, because my veins are too hard to find, crying because I'm scared and lonely and everyone is too busy to come and help me. Wahoo to no more of that.
And Six Feet Under is on tonight. My favorite show, yeay!!!