Surgery! Good times!

I was recently hospitalized and released on account of a infection. Tiny little bacteria, all swarming around inside me, began to get hunger and eat up on my flesh. I have no idea how that got there, all I know is that few would be able to make it through the multiple shifts I had to endure simply to spend a couple days off of it. At the end of my couple of days off, when it started to look more like a bratwurst than a foot, I took a roundabout trip to the surgery wing of St. Lukes hospital, via route of family practice.

After a quick look from a bevy of aghast nurses, the surgeon walked in. He took a quick survey of the area, stabbed me a couple of times with a lidocain needle, and began to slice. This was astounding. It was a world-opening pain, the kind where you don't really even feel it anymore. Needless to say, I think this guy was something of a sadist.

I was hospitalized for about 4 days, dreading the next visit from the surgeon. Rough asshole. While I was laid out on a back breaking bed, one of the molars chipped horribly. This is a molar which supposedly was supposed to be removed when I was closer to 19. I'm beginning to see why. I was accompanied near the whole time by friends and the ever-dear Dr. Girlfriend. I saw a good few movies, watched enough TV, missed a lot of work, and learned that morphine doesn't really do much more than itch. The moral of the story is...

is...

I don't know. Fuck, that surgeon fucking sucks.

-The0