Today I jet set in to the hospital like some sort of mini-celebrity (this is in my own mind only of course).

Then I get regulated. Then I get sliced and diced.

I feel nostalgic about my neck for some reason. Should I take a picture of it to show my grandkids one day?

Ha! My ridiculousness fantastic. I only wish I could be this funny all of the time.

Yes, but seriously. There will be nothing wrong with me when I get out sometime this weekend I hope, unless it’s just a sore neck. That, that I can deal with. The scar he said might be larger than life. But, as he said, he will not cut me up more than is necessary: since not everyone’s vasculature rocks the same patterns, he can make no promises.

For seven hours on Thursday I will be put into a mild coma-like sleep. I do believe in good energy passing so the whole prayer thing doesn’t escape my understanding and appreciation with god nor not.

Thursday night I will wake up and hopefully the first part of the party will be over Saturday.

I do have a phone to receive late night text messages.

Don’t forget me. I will be ultra bored for sure.

Hearts and stars and all that girly garbage.