Okay so all this doctor ordered rest and relaxation has done wild and crazy things to me and, more importantly... and weirdly... my libido.
In my utterly bored pain-killer fueled internet surfing I have found, wait for it ladies...
The gorgeous Mr Wentworth Earl Miller III*. And he's LEGAL!!! In fact, he's older than me, so more the better. I have actually spent countless hours looking at pictures of him. Pathetic huh? I feel like a moronic teenager with a star-filled-eye crush!
The most beautiful man in the world! A man so perfectly formed, it's as if he were sculpted by the Gods themselves...
And if that's not enough to convince you, how about this one?
However, until such time as I have a real live red-blooded man that I can touch and...sniff and...stuff.... I am declaring to the world at large.
Ms Befuddled... is in luurve!
__________ * See my post about Prison Break. Apparently Went stuck in my head after watching this for some sexy strange reason...
(True story. I couldn't make this shit up if I tried.)
Well. After being deathly ill for days on end, and constantly telling the Doctors that something wasn't right... And after treating me for my apparent burst cyst for 5 days, the Doctors in their infinite wisdom realised that I wasn't responding to the meds (if you can call a morphine drip meds. Not that I'm really complaining, it almost made up for it, in a woozy, smiley, "What's your name again? Tomika? Pfft. Yeah right!", kinda way), and that totally didn't satisfy them so they decided to do some more tests.
Big. Bloody. Mistake. Seriously.
After poking and prodding me in MOST unpleasant ways, they finally came up with ANOTHER correct diagnosis. Apparently I don't have a burst cyst. Probably.
I guess, Doc, that I was right, Doc, after all. Doc! I can tell the difference between pain in my girly bits, and pain in my... other... bits. I am not a complete moron. I have had a cyst burst on my right ovary that resulted in a miscarriage when I was younger. I know what that feels like. Doc.
Where is MY Dr House when I need him!!!
So the diagnosis TODAY stands at an infected large intestine, with a side order of inflamed bowel, and a glass of fluid on my left lung. A diagnosis however that despite my best efforts, they didn't come to until after I started bleeding from every orifice EXCEPT the one they predicted, and mostly from my... ahem... back-passage. Go figure.
Anyway, I'm out of the clink for now, I got discharged the other day. But I'm back in on Tuesday for more tests, a Gastroscopy, Colonoscopy, and something else I can't remember the name of but I'm sure will be extremely invasive and forced upon my person without benefit of having been bought dinner beforehand...
Fingers crossed they'll find the culprit and I can commence kicking IT'S butt for a change, instead of it kicking mine. Literally.
(Seriously though, I'd like to thank the nurses at both hospitals for the wonderful care they took of me while I was there. Especially Zac in Austin Emergency who sat and cuddled me while I cried when none of the pain killers were working. And Julie the night nurse at the Mercy Women's who spoiled me rotten, and woke me up every 2 hours through the night for my medications so that I wouldn't wake up in the morning in agony. Thanks heaps. Really.)
With that, I shall leave you with some lovely images of my stay in casa del Mercy, and the Austin plaza for your enjoyment.
Wish me luck!
* The following photo's relate to my previous post. You might want to go have a read if you already haven't. But then if you haven't already read this post, you don't know what the hell I am rambling about, and I should probably just shut up now...
Beautiful beautiful morphine drip, what ever would I do without you...
See those horses? Yes, them. They are NOT horses, they are Unicorns with Bourbon in their horns. And apparently the only way to get the bourbon out is to cut the tip off the horn, grab the mane, stick your hand up it's bum and pour like a teapot... Yeah. I don't know either.
Oh and Jesus there? Minding his own business right? Wrong. He has a skipping rope, and his crucifix is a pogo stick so that he can jump rope... Yep. No idea.
Gotta love that morphine!
I think at this point I should explain my pain situation.
This is a normal pain scale... *1
However, This more accurately expresses how I felt at the time...
Revised pain scale...*2
I fluctuated between (8) and (too serious for numbers). Yeah. Nice huh? Currently I'm sitting on a (6).
Can someone email me some drugs?
*1. Current International pain rating scale. See below for interpretation. *3
*2. Pain rating scale that should be globally recognised for it's accuracy. See below for interpretation. *4
*3. 0: Haha! I'm not wearing any pants!
2:Awesome! Someone just offered me a free hot dog! 4: Huh. I never knew that about giraffes. 6: I'm sorry about your cat, but can we talk about something else now? I'm bored. 8: The ice cream I bought barely has any cookie dough chunks in it. This is not what I expected and I am disappointed. 10: You hurt my feelings and now I'm crying!
*4. 0: Hi. I am not experiencing any pain at all. I don't know why I'm even here.
1: I am completely unsure whether I am experiencing pain or itching or maybe I just have a bad taste in my mouth. 2: I probably just need a Band Aid. 3: This is distressing. I don't want this to be happening to me at all. 4: My pain is not fucking around. 5:Why is this happening to me?? 6:Ow. Okay, my pain is super legit now.
7: I see Jesus coming for me and I'm scared. (<== Refer to above photo of Jesus, I'm seeing pattern here...) 8: I am experiencing a disturbing amount of pain. I might actually be dying. Please help. 9: I am almost definitely dying. 10: I am actively being mauled by a bear. 11: Blood is going to explode out of my face at any moment. Too Serious For Numbers: You probably have ebola, or stomach AIDS. It appears that you may also be suffering from Stigmata and/or pinkeye
*5. Pain scale pictures and interpretations by the wonderfully talented Allie at Hyperbole and a Half. Check her out, she's hilarious! And scarily accurate... GET OUT OF MY HEAD ALLIE!!!
Please excuse the following post, it has been induced by morphine euphoria, and written entirely on my phone. So Tuesday morning (2nd June) I woke up vomiting blood. Not a great deal of blood, but no matter what angle I turned the bucket, it still remained the same. Now correct me if I'm wrong, but isn't that the stuff that is supposed to be INSIDE you, not outside? Anyway, I stubbornly told myself that it was an anomaly, and tried to go back to sleep. I would have succeeded too if not for the niggling pain in my mid section. I kept vomiting bits of blood all that day so I made a docs appointment for the next morning. Not expecting anything major, I dropped Tomika at school and went to my appointment. After a VERY uncomfortable and embarrassing visit where he checked out EVERY possible orifice, he blandly said, "Well I don't know what's wrong, but I do know that vomiting blood isn't a good thing so I'm going to send you off to hospital. I'm calling the ambulance now, do you have your wallet and ID on you?" Whoa. Okay... Umm, Doc? Did you say hospital? Apparently he did, because here I am, and have been since Wednesday afternoon (3rd June). I have been poked, prodded and pricked, and not in a good way either! The upside is that I'm on morphine and another drug that does magical things to the walls and apparently creates unicorns out of horse paintings, skipping rope Jesus out of the obligatory crucified Jesus, and turns my young Doctor into an illegally cute McDreamy. The downside is that after a full 20 hours of, "So where does it hurt again? Here and here? That's okay, we can get the janitor to scrape you off the ceiling... Again." they finally told me I have a burst cyst on my left ovary, and I probably have to have an operation to remove it before it poisons me. Fun times. Did I mention the morphine?