A few weeks ago I had another surgical intervention—just a fishing expedition among the detritus of what was once my glottis to see if any of those little things were malignant little things, which I'm glad to say they weren't. But an outcome seemed to be that I was a lot more tired than usual, or than easily explained by the usual combination of spleen, envy, and testosterone loss anxiety. Also couldn't exert myself without running out of breath owing to swelling around the airhole, and was losing ridiculous amounts of weight owing to eating taking a tremendous amount of time when you can't breathe. To make a long story shorter, yesterday we bit the bullet and punched the stoma hole back in my throat and put me on steroids, and I'm going to try gaining 15 pounds in the next two weeks (I guess that's why those scampi spoke to me so strongly yesterday, as the oxygen began to flow once more—I was hungry!).
Anyway that's also part of why I haven't been posting much lately. The Scandals had something to do with it too, but mainly because I couldn't think hard enough about them without falling to sleep. Anyway, hi everybody! Don't all get up or anything.
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| Fruity dessert tacos, with a little jalapeño, from Taste of Home. Dollop of yogurt on mine, please. |
Anyway that's also part of why I haven't been posting much lately. The Scandals had something to do with it too, but mainly because I couldn't think hard enough about them without falling to sleep. Anyway, hi everybody! Don't all get up or anything.
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