I’d like to point everyone’s attention to the little counter on the right hand side of the screen. Notice that I’ve run out of days. I’m in the final hours. The tonsillectomy is inevitable.
There are two individuals who helped to make this weekend a living hell, and I’d like to acknowledge them individually.
First, the attorney in my office who informed me on Friday afternoon that, “Oh my god, my friend’s daughter had her tonsils removed a couple weeks ago, and a few nights after the surgery, the girl woke up spewing blood from her throat. My friend was terrified, there was blood everywhere.” Apparently the kid lived, which is a positive, and it was just the scab being prematurely ripped from the throat that caused all the bleeding, but this was not the type of information I needed to carry me through the weekend.
The second person I’d like to acknowledge is the anonymous commenter who graciously stated the following, “You can never be too careful...did you know that a known risk of tonsillectomy is injury to your external carotid artery? Yep, it's true…and another known risk is hemorrhage…don't believe me? Search it -- it happens…it happened to my son...and he died…ask your doctor…good luck.” I don’t know if that was someone’s idea of a sick joke, but it totally was not fucking funny. I’ve spent the last two days obsessing about my external carotid artery, although I guess I could view that as an improvement from obsessing about death by anesthesia.
I’m pretty much terrified right about now, and I can’t even pour myself a drink to relax. If I suddenly disappear from the blogosphere, you’ll know what happened. It’s been fun.