Dreadful Nonsense

The computer still hasn't been taken to the doctor yet, I'm not sure why. We had long, serious discussions last week about when would be the best time to remove the computer from the house, and we had maturely come to the decision that the beginning of this week would be the best, because I don't have essays to go through, or videos to bid on on eBay or other important computer related activities. That resolved, the computer has now been sitting here for two days festering in infections that make it almost impossible to go look at any website for longer than five minutes – every time you try to move to a different part of a site or even just refresh the page, we get redirected to some stupid search engine that says the page I was JUST THAT MOMENT LOOKING AT doesn't actually exist, but perhaps I'd like to look at some of these not even tenuously linked pages that are probably all sponsored links, and then the porn pop ups start, and then the whole computer freezes.

I'm even typing this in word, just in case in between typing and publishing the computer tries this trick again.

Anyway, the big day looms tomorrow, and I won’t be able to use the computer again until Friday anyway, since the post-epidural procedure is to lie down for a couple of days, to stop the bad poison they inject to stop the bad pain could travel to my brain and that would be BAD apparently, although I can’t see for one moment why that would be. Last time round I managed to avoid the migraine-type headache that’s quite often associated with this procedure, and I’m hoping my luck holds this time too, because it’s painful enough without further complications.

I had a bit of a panic induced ruckus with my dad last night, because he flounced about the house pronouncing that I should be out working, while I was curled up in the bed in fetal position trying to remember how to breathe through pain and spasm, all the time fighting the urge the leap out of bed and hit him square on the face. Which would obviously be totally impossible for me to do, so instead I screamed some quite elaborate profanities at him and eventually calmed down enough to tell him he was forgiven for his insensitivities. The insensitivities he was only aware of after my mother explained to him, for the 1,000th time, that I wasn’t particularly good with pain.

I’ve been very much a brave little soldier about the whole thing, and have been telling everyone who tries to ask me about it that I’m kind of looking forward to it, and then change the subject, because I really don’t want to have to start thinking about it. And no, it’s not that awful a procedure, but I do remember that day and the day after and for about a week afterwards I was trying to remember how horrible it was so that time wouldn’t mellow the memories. It really is horrible, and the pain isn’t the worst of it. It’s the whole being in hospital, being wheeled around on a trolley, being in an operating theatre, and having four people stand around you talking all surgical while you lie face down screeching. That last part, the screeching part, that was my contribution to the proceedings, and I’ve decided that I’m going to try not to do that this time round. I’m taking for my role model the episode of Firefly called War Stories where Mal and Wash are tortured but don’t break down at any point. Them’s some brave fictional men.

So, for anyone who needs reminding, this is what'll be happening to my back tomorrow. Talk to y'all later in the week, unless the computer actually leaves to be fixed.

This entry was posted on 06 July 2004 at 12:42 pm. 0 comments

Dreadful Nonsense

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