thumb down

Lest you think I am becoming an anesthesia junkie, let me be clear that I had intended to have this latest operation in the spring, back before the whole genetic kerfuffle and scramble to get rid of my reproductive innards. Cancer has the right of way at almost all medical intersections, so the thumb operation waited until I was completely healed from the other stuff. I hate saying the words "hysterectomy" and "oophorectomies" -- they just sound so gross and make your mouth pinch to read them. Don't lie.

I had asked the hand surgeon and the onco-gyno surgeon back in April if they didn't want to collaborate, do it all in one fell swoop while I was out like a light anyway. This seemed not to appeal to either of them, which shows you just how wasteful we Americans are, and how turfy at that. Sure, you need to be upside-down for the robotic gyno operation (this is true), and that might have made it awkward for my hand surgeon, but a couple of "excuse me, pardon me"s ought to have made it possible, and then I would have been fully recovered from both by now, and we would have saved on an assortment of medications.

But no. Right of way it was. While discussing the hand surgery, though, my undaunted Laura asked if both thumbs could be done at once, since both thumbs need repair. The surgeon paused for a moment, batted his eyes while searching for the right response, and said, "In my profession, we consider that akin to waterboarding." We took that as a no.

The picture at the top is fuzzy, which is exactly how I felt when it was taken. By the end of the day, I was more in focus. Since I have to keep my hand elevated above my heart, I decided to draw a face on the bandage. Though no artist, I will accept props that I drew this friendly face with my non-dominant hand.

All well and good, until I realized that I have two sessions with depressed clients today. I don't think this smiling face is quite the right empathic touch. I now wish I had put a concerned, loving expression on the bandage. Maybe with a little furrow in the brow.

Laura, ever stalwart and devoted Laura, had to floss for me last night. It turns out she has kind of a talent for it, a good thing to keep in mind in case this high school principal job is a bust.

Lastly, here we are, my new arm puppet (whom I have named Kale, which I predict is going to be a hot baby name in the future) and I shopping at Whole Foods. Doesn't Kale look excited about those mangos?