The bowel obstruction, that is. My beloved wife and I just got back from the doc. I've been given a prescription for several packets of something-or-other and been advised to stop all other meds until this resolves itself. The doc assures me (with a sly grin) that this prescription will "break it down" and "get it moving", which may be code for "stay near a toilet". I'm on clear liquids for another 24 hours and have been given clearance to go to work at my second job. (I was concerned that if I went in and took a hit to the gut it might rupture, but the doc says I should be OK.)
And I really want a hamburger, too. From Dairy Queen. Or Braums. I don't like being on a liquid diet at all - it's not very filling. But enough about my digestive troubles, huh?
I got my Friday night shift covered at the club so I can go to CR, so that's good. (Thanks, Tim!) I have the 28th off, too. Toni has plans for me, evidently, though I'm in the dark about the particulars.
I'm kind of a baby when I'm sick. I don't do anything except lay there and beg my wife to do stuff for me. I don't lift a finger to help her with anything, either. That's not cool, man. I need to shape up a little and start pitching in more. She's a great wife and I ought to appreciate her a little more, and make sure she knows it. I do appreciate her, more than she knows, especially when I'm sick. I should do a better job of showing her.
OK - back to work.
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Update: I just looked at what constitutes a "clear liquid" diet, which I must adhere to for 24 hours. I almost want to cry.
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