beulahbondo's Diaryland Diary

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Lazarus, lick my wounds

So you know how I've been in love with my doctor since my surgery at the end of October? (nods all around) It's over! It ran its very useful course!

Yesterday I saw him for my final follow-up and for the first time I wasn't sweating or giggling or stammering. I was like, "Hmmm. He's not really all that." I could see the little piece of gum in his mouth that he wasn't chewing--the one that's always there, but I had always thought of it as a romantic courtesy.

The last time we saw each other, before my December 26 surgery, I was giggling as he marked me up with a purple Sharpie. Then he went to scrub up, and I got the Valium in the veins, and as I was being wheeled into the OR, I remember mumbling, "If I say anything inappropriate about my doctor, please stop me." But yesterday: nothing. Fantastic! Obviously, the crush engendered trust, and I don't need any of it anymore.

So last night I dreamed that I was having surgery again, and he was trying to give me anesthesia and I wasn't having any of it. He tried three different kinds and I kept saying no and shoving the mask away. He even scotch-taped my lips together and I managed to yell, NO! I breathe through my MOUTH!

Then, in my dream, I left the hospital and was doing all kinds of skilled things like fixing someone's loom, and transposing flute music.

So we'll see what happens at the three-month follow-up, but I think I'm done.

8:08 a.m. - 2008-01-11

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