Distraction vs. Distraction

I’m afraid.

Yes, for the country but also, very much for myself. This is NOT just because Cheeto Mussolini, having lost the House, immediately began shooting democracy in the face. His bullshit, transparent firing of the vile, yet useful in only one respect, Sessions says to all ('cept his tragically dimwitted fans) I'M SO MOTHERFUCKING GUILTY! Naturally, he’s replaced the toxic Keebler elf with an even bigger douche-toad. What Preznint Fat Fraud doesn’t seem to get is that, though he can stop the Mueller probe now, he can’t kill it. It's gonna come back like Freddy Krueger and it ain't gonna be happy.

The New Democratic House can just reopen the probe in January. Right? They can do that, right? No matter what, as Digby trenchantly put it, shit's gonna get mighty ugly (uglier).

So, if it's not the current news putting the fright into me, WHY am I afraid? Because I’m five days out from major back surgery, that’s why. It’s my first major slice up since The Amazing Bob’s untimely, molto tragic demise. The midterms and the Vile Vulgarian kept me distracted—stressed too but in a different, rage monster-y kind of a way.

I feel my worries, fears and nervousness vis-à-vis Tuesday's BIG event are silly. The surgeon guy, Coumans, comes HIGHLY recommended. I’ve met him and like him a LOT. Not only does he have a rep for seriously awesome knife chops, he’s warm – he's in posession of some treemendous people skills. AND my pal Michie, fellow painter and Nf2 traveler with more frequent OR miles than me, says he's tops.

I’m at one of the best hospitals for neurosurgery in the country (it’s one of the reasons I live here, ya know) BUT when I wake post-surgery and after all my MGH-time naps, TAB won’t be at my bedside. When I come home, TAB won’t be here with his freshly baked spinach/white chocolate chip/oatmeal cookies. He won’t be there pre-surgery for our usual silly time, calm-me-down antics.

Hillel will bring me to MGH on OR morning. Jen will visit in the evenings after she gets off work. Other chums will stop by. Paula will tote my fragile ass home when they kick me out. Once back here in Valhalla, friends will check on me during the day and/or stay overnight for the first week.

Oh yeah and Coco – my feline overlord and resident holistic doctor/therapist will be here, on duty 24/7 as uszh.

I’ll be fine. But TAB’s not here. I’m not alone, I’ll be well cared for but there’s this gaping chasm where my man used to be.

The upside – while the current badministration’s felonious shenanigans and constant attempts to destroy our democracy have been distracting me from my bodily woes, NOW my lovely meningioma collection is on the clock. It’s diverting my bean from the Criminal in Chief, all his cretinous minions and henchman.

This is good, right?