Prep

This one, from this morning's walk, is for SueEllen.

FIRST – Ya gotta see this Tweet and vid. Jesus convertible Christ, this is awesome!

Next, I had my pre-surgery Plague45 test yesterday. It was fascinating in a Phillip Dick/Bladerunner kind of a way. OK no, it wasn’t like that at all but you know me and my overactive imagination. The test site was immaculately clean and everyone was wonderfully kind, welcoming and courteous. All the medicos were kitted out in 17 layers of protection (and I was DAMN glad of that for their sake AND mine). It was a special kind of creepy scary to have the swab wielding dude reaching out of a floor to ceiling plexiglass box, his arms and hands like robot appendages encased in thick, loose rubber. A LOT like this pic, below left.

Yes, I kept hearing “eyes; I just do eyes” as he gently stuffed the swab up my snout. FYI, it didn’t hurt but felt ULTRA weird.

I already received the results – SARS-CoV 2 (COVID-19) PCR – Not Detected

There were a couple paragraphs of yeah but:

Negative results do not preclude SARS-CoV-2 infection and should not be used as the sole basis for patient management decisions. Negative results must be combined with clinical observations, patient history, and epidemiological information.

Optimum specimen types and timing for peak viral levels during infection by SARS-CoV-2 have not been determined. Collection of multiple specimens from the same patient may be necessary to detect the virus.

Still, I think I’m cleared for tomorrow’s slice action. Yea fucking me!

I’ve decided – and yes this is a choice – that I’m done with the dread shit. It’s boring AND, just generally, no bleedin' fun. I mean, fer fuck’s sake, I’ll get to leave the house (WHEEEEE!), won’t have to exercise (as hard) and someone else will cook for me for at least four whole days. BEST YET, I don’t gotta put on a bra for a couple months!

Regarding food – I hear you asking “but doesn’t Jen do all the cooking?” Well yeah, mostly. OK, let's just never mind on that point.

Another thing about Saint fucking Jen – I’m going into the OR in better shape than I have for, at least, the last few shoot ‘em ups. Why/how? That bitch, that stone twatzilla forces me to go on 30+ minute walks ever damn morning. How does this evil broad strong-arm me? She shows up at my goddamn door and patiently waits for me to put my sneaks on – THE NERVE!

On top of that, since I can’t go to the Y (even though it’s reopened. Why not? People…potential plague carriers //shudder//) Jen bought me a recumbent elliptical for here at home. I’m on that rat bastid torture device five to six days out of seven.

Guess what – I HATE exercise but I like being as healthy and able-bodied as I can be more.

Other shit I gotta do before lights out tonight?

• Lay down the ground on a few new canvases. That’s the most physically taxing part of starting a new painting.
• Collect drawing pads, colored markers, pens and crayons in a bag. Jen will bring them to me at MGH so’s I have something to do when I’m not napping.
• Put my stack of new books on the shelf by the bed.
• Unroll the futon in the guest room and put out sheets and blankets (Saint Jen’s bunking in for my first few nights back home)
• Laundry *groan*

We leave for MGH at five in the AM. WooHoo. I wonder how much weight I’ll drop once I’m less these two motherfucking asshole meningiomas. A 20 pound drop would be nice. Yeah, only in my vivid, happy fantasy land. *sigh*