Health Update: Cathy First, and then Quasimodo

It's been a while since we had an official update, mostly because I've been in and out of consciousness like Robert Di Nero in Sleepers. But while I am "sitting," and before the pills crowd me out, I want to report that Cathy will be going in for surgery on February 7th. We expect to be out of pocket for a week or so. There's a lot of logistical things to work out while we set all of this up, but we are excited to be moving forward with her treatment plan. It's the shortest part of the process, if you don't count the recovery time, but it's certainly the most nerve-wracking. I will keep everyone posted if things change.

I will now give you an update on my condition, so for those of you who do NOT want to read about scrotal edema, please veer off.

I am down to one drain, which is awesome in that I no longer look like I should be floating around in low gravity, trying to control all of the spice and overthrow the Bene Gesserit, but I still have my staples in, I'm still wearing my abdominal binder, and I am still tottering around Curley Neal from the Harlam Globetrotters, carrying a basketball between my knees to fool the Washington Generals' power forward.

I'm just about clawing the walls, wanting to get out, get into some actual pants, and get on with stuff. I've never been this idle for this long, and it's probably a good thing that I'm sleeping through a lot of it or I would be insufferable. 

This swelling is going to be the death of me. I can't go out, can't wear grown-up people clothes, can't stand for too long or gravity kicks in, can't sit for too long or everything throbs.  I can't even properly work from home. I'm carrying a clip board around like a crazy person, writing follow-up notes to myself and doodling  claymore swords in the margins. 

This woman is a sadist. 

To give you an idea of how uncomfortable this is, here's a little experiment you can try at home. Go buy an average sized spaghetti squash. Now, put it in your favorite chair and sit down on it, like a goose hatching an egg. Now try to think about anything other than the spaghetti squash you're sitting on. 

That's my life, right now.  It's decorative gourd season twenty-four-seven up in this crib, and I am feeling the burn. 

All laughs and jokes aside, this needs to get better, and fast. I need to be able to take care of Cathy in two weeks. She's going to need me for the whole process, from start to finish, from road trip to recovery.  I can't be worrying about looking the centerpiece on Martha Stewart's Thanksgiving Table. 

Cathy and I both have doctor appointments this week. Check-ups. It'll be February soon, and that's when things will get tense again.

I'm sorry I keep bringing it up, but insurance costs and treatments are still a problem as we try to squeeze blood from a turnip (*Oh, GOD, bad analogy!*) cover everything. We are over the halfway mark on our GoFundMe campaign, but there's still a lot of real estate left on that goal-o-meter. If you're able to do so, we appreciate anything and everything. Click here to go to our GoFundMe Page.  I'm still handing out PDF copies of our wedding comic with all donations, so if that's something you would be interested in, just let me know.

Okay, I have to stand up now. And then go lie down. This is the worst amusement park ride, ever.