Fair-skinned and Heparin, bruises abound*

*sung to the tune of "Incense and Peppermints*

Fair-skinned and Heparin, bruises abound.
It's your fault 'cos you're fat, dumbass cow.
Look at yourself, look at yourself,
Yeah, yeah.
Look at yourself, look at yourself,
Yeah, yeah,
Yeah, yeah.

Okay, so that's not the world's best lyrical parody. It's still pretty good for someone loaded to the gills with Darvocet and Phenergan. Almost all of my nurses were pleasant, professional and courteous. The one who wasn't only bothered me because she layered a veil of fake sympathy over her inner contempt for fat people with difficult veins. After she pulled my IV because she said it was about to infiltrate, 6 nurses stuck me 12 times to try to restart it. And every time Cathy, the bitchy nurse, was in my room after that, she was full of the fake soothing stuff. I wanted to bite her or kick her or something.

My surgery, which was supposed to begin at 12:30, didn't start until well after 2, which led to my mom calling the hospital at 4 wanting to know what was going on. You go, Mom! :-D She came to see me in Recovery, and then headed home. She was really great about calling my online friends and notifying them of my status (after she called my brothers, of course).

When they sprung me, Dad was the one who came and got me, and then went into the drug store for my prescriptions. I sat in the parking lot and people-watched, and wondered why some women wear their hair so close to their heads it looks like a yarmulke, only to have it spring into a fringe of curls at the ends. It's really inexpressibly hideous. Of course, so is the fact that my insurance didn't cover the meds and Dad had to pay cash, but at least he got my Darvocet. My preciousssssss. *cradles bottle*

I'm still very sore, and thanks to all the IV attempts, I look like something from a Stephen King novel, but I'm glad to be home. Of course, Mother Nature is a complete bitch who decided that what I needed as a welcome-home gift was my period. Ack. I sleep, look at the computer, let the dogs out and in, and then sleep some more.

Because my life ALWAYS arranges itself in the worst possible fashion, I've just been notified that my 100 daffodil bulbs from White Flower Farm are on the way now. Ducky. I'll have to make space in the fridge and hope they can survive until I can dig.