The good is Demerol, though I may need a Brittany-esque quickie through rehab to wean myself off them.  (I feel Catholic here)  It’s been 13 hour since I popped my last Demerol and I probably have a good 3-4 hours left in me before I cave to the pain.

This weaves nicely into the bad.  Two operations in less than a month is not my idea of fun.  But, both were ‘nothing’ procedures.  The first was to repair and replace my titanium toe joint with a hinge joint.  All went well, until the infection came along.  I swear I’m some sort of Mersa Mary when it comes to health stuff.  Stuck in that recoup were both the hubby and the kid getting strep.  I’m thinking of hoarding Z-Packs for the future.  I don’t think an actual meal has been cooked in this house since before January 19^th.  Also smack dab in the middle of that was the continuing saga of my house being up for sale.  One day I actually dragged my ass out into my car in the garage and reclined the seat to sleep while some realtor marched his (obviously) disinterested couple through the house – either that or they thought I was a corpse and were put off by the prospect of owning a home that had a dead woman lying in the Honda. 

In order to have my toe job, I had to turn the power off on my IPG.  Quickie explanation – it’s a unit the size of a cookie inside my thigh with leads and electrodes that go to both my spine and down my right leg to treat a form of nerve dystrophy.  So after the toe job I go to turn it back on and nothing.  Nada.  Shit.  So I go visit the Medtronic rep at the doctor’s office and it turns out that coincidentally, the batteries on the IPG need to be replaced.  Not great news but not anything I haven’t done before.  It’s a quick procedure, they pop out the cookie, put in a new battery pack, a few staples to close and voilá – done.  I had to cancel Birmingham (felt terrible doing that to them) and arranged for the 15 minute procedure.  Hummmmmm, didn’t exactly work out that way.  An hour and a half later, I had my new implant but apparently it didn’t like the lead junctions from the old system so instead of 1 little incision, I have 3 with 32 staples holding my leg together.  But this new system is rechargeable.  I was a little high when she was explaining how to recharge it, so I’m amusing myself with the image of plugging my leg into the cigarette lighter of my car.

Now that I have Franken-leg, I realize that I’ll be in Seattle Washington when the staples have to be removed.  God Bless Cherry Adair, she found a surgeon willing to remove them.  Now . . . how to get through airport security?  I’m thinking a copy of the operative notes and tears should do it.

So, for those of you wondering where I’ve been over at Babesinbookland.com and/or have had your emails or calls ignored, sorry.  And with over 1,000 emails stacked in my inbox, I may never be heard from again.

Rhonda