Walk It Off
Ok. So. Last time we gathered together my lovelies, I had just finished telling you part of the story of undergoing surgery for appendicitis. Cody was still pacing restlessly back and forth in our hospital room. I was wheeled into the surgery theater, and all bodies were present and accounted for - except the attending surgeon. It was one of those moments in my life where you feel uniquely vulnerable. I mean, your dressed in nothing but your undies and a hospital gown in a room full of strangers where the temperature is set to either a degree above or below freezing at all times. The table your lying on is barely wide enough for you to fit on. Meanwhile, your arms are spread out on either side of you like your being offered up as tribute to the mepostdical gods. Then you're drugged up, knocked out and left in what you hope are the capable hands of the surgeon and medical staff only to wake up several hours later in a condition that you hope is better than when you first arrived,
