Tomorrow is my last workday for two weeks. It's also our highly mysterious Christmas party that they weren't going to have but decided to have anyway. It's all very hoosh-hoosh, as they say, but if it conflicts with my appointment with the general surgeon, well, I guess I'll have to miss it.
Because, yes, by cracky, tomorrow we decide which of my sullen nodes deserves to be gouged out of my flesh. The actual procedure isn't until next Monday; this is mostly a dry run designed to get me familiar with where the hospital is and stuff.
I'm a little put off by the idea of the shunt. What if it comes out? I don't think they're supposed to come out, but the Titanic wasn't supposed to sink either. I figure I'll cover it over with duct tape and JB Weld just in case.
Is That All?
11 years ago
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