I AM GOING INSANE! Holy Mary Mother of God, I have begun to talk to my furniture, I have started doing too many chores, researching any recipes that will take me all day to make, have seen every episode of the Real Housewives of every freaking county and the highlight of my days have become showers...and I dread them because they require effort and all I see are scars. I am determined to figure out a way to install a kegerator line near my shower head to make the experience more pleasant.
As I promised initially with my blog, I am going to name names and what better day to start then today.
I have a wide group of friends: childhood, neighborhood and work. All of them unique in their own way. When I was freaking out about how the recovery from this surgery was going to go, I turned to the support of my friends for reassurance in my moment of need. Here's what I got.

To Dannette: How am I going to get around work whwn I come back?
From Dannette: You can sit on one of those porrable potty chairs with wheels without the potty seat in it and just roll down the hallways.

To Lori: Thanks so much for that dinner you made for us.
From Lori: Let me know if you need anything else. This being nice to you shit is getting old. I don't know how much longer I can keep it up.

Clearly, as you can see, it is no wonder I am healing. How could I not without all of thos damn empathy?

for the record, i have attempted many posts on here and got stick on the editing with my new tablet. So I wanted to try again and keep it short so I don't lose it in editing again. Here goes: I am healing, very bored, some days better than others. The best way I can explain what I am feeling is this: My butt feels like a shoe that someone tied too tight.
Thank you and have a good day.

Well 13 days after surgery and Slinky is finally gone. After 3 hours of careful tugging and guided pulling (I may exaggerate....a little), the tube was out at last. He put some gauze and tape over the opening and then much to my surprise...he proceeds to smack the tape 3 times. After just pulling out what felt like an alien, the man that was supposed to be my savior is hitting me. Instinctively (and I don't know where this came from since I'm a good Catholic school girl) (and I may be exaggerating....a little) I hit him in the stomach 3 times and told him to take it easy.  
On a more concerning note regarding the incision.
Dr: "I want you to massage this cream on your incision several times a day."
Me: (to Jerry...) "How am I supposed to reach myu ass?"
With that said, I shall now be practicing different yoga positions in an effort to medicaaly massage myself.

And the winner is Slinky! Just found out that Slinky will be hanging around until Tuesday, at which point the Doc will be yanking it out. So, here's my new dilemna...I can't sit on my ass....(but for some strange reason I could when I came home.) I can only lean/lie on my left side. As a result, my left hip gets numb and my left arm falls asleep. Jerry has helped by keeping a chair in front of me as a nightstand for my drink, book,etc. However, now I feel like I am in jail because this is my view....ideas for any contraptions would really be appreciated before I develop bed sores on my hip or my left arm falls off as a result of no circulation......well, wouldn't you know it. This damn thing won't let me upload the freaking pic. My view is looing thru the spindles on a chair...jail.

So today is exactly a week from my surgery and I am trying to adapt to my modified

• function I can finally lie on my sides as my abdominal "inards' have begun to relax, which is good because my butt was getting  numb as hell. The only down side is there's really nothing exciting to watch from on your side. It seems as if the real good stuff only happens face on.Also, I am getting real tired of dragging along this damn drainage tube from my abdomen. And I have realized that although it will not be a permanent fixture like "Cupcake" (for those of you

 aren't familiar with Cupcake, it is what I named my ostomy bag.) So, out of boredom, I am asking for suggestions for what nickname I can give my drainage tube. I have carried it around like an odd little pet on a leash, I have threatened to throw it at my step-son like a grenade and I have almost  tripped over the little bastard on my way to the bathroom  in thrmoddle of the night.o n Sow I am asking for help. Please help ke ij naming ky drainage tube.in (You may have sports or cooking or sewing...work with me.This is all I've got.

Never in my life did I think my husband would be rubbing ointment on my 3 inch incision on my bottom and taping gauze onto it. Furthermore, never did I ever think I would ask him to take a pic of it with my cell phone so I could try to understand my recovery.I've never really been that close with my ass before, and there have been times where I have downright at war with it, given the Crohn's. But this was kind of like meeting a long time pen pal for the first time and realizing they didn't look AT ALL like you thought they would. So I guess what I am saying is that if I passed my ass in an airport I would never recognize myself. That and my husband is a God send.

First morning home after surgery. Some things I've learned: Percoset makes this damn touch screen keyboard that much harder to write on. I never realized the complexity of getting up from a couch. It really should be an Olympic sport. I never realized how low a tolilet was. Do we really need to bend at the knees in order to pee? What we really need is 5 ft. high toilets that require a slight bend at the waist. And apparently I like the term "we really need." Lastly, the drainage that comes from your stomach, in fact, does NOT
 smell. C'mon...if you had a tube sticking out from your stomach you'd want to know. Gotta run...Jerry's lighting candles and playing Barry White.