More or Less

I have to be honest - I didn't think I would still be in as much pain at this point.

Eating... I want to eat, but I have to take narcotics in order to nibble down a soft, mushy cheeseburger - which still takes a good 30 minutes and is exhausting.

I told Mom I want Paula Deen to come here, make me a chicken/cheesy/noodley casserole, a congealed salad, some banana pudding and a sweet tea and then leave. I don't even want to talk to her. Or Rachel Ray either. If Tim Gunn wanted to pay a visit, OK. But he'd have to bring a present - some Liz Claiborne swag.

Mom and Dad left yesterday and I cried. I cried before they left, when they left, and after they left. I'll cry again before it's all over.


We actually had a lot of fun. We went out to eat at the Pancake Pantry and Italian Market, where I managed 2 silver dollar pancakes and a kids portion of buttered noodles, respectively. Today, Matt took me to Steak 'n' Shake where I ate the aforementioned cheeseburger and a vanilla shake. Very, very slowly.


I've been watching Food Network and Travel Channel as well as Cash Cab on Discovery and my daily dose of Ellen Degeneres, who I just love. She could come visit. We'd have fun. And the Cash Cab guy can come too.


I've been taking pain meds, trying not to take pain meds, and functioning both ways.


I managed to get two new blouses - Mom and Dad bought me one, I got the other. Matt took me for a pedicure today.


I bonded big time with the pugs.


And Monday, the fun ends and I head back to work.


Once I have the time to sit and sort through it all, I'll give the details.

I am going to go downstairs and find something that isn't acidic, is soft and bland and tempts me to eat. My tastebuds are jacked up. I find that potatoes, cheese, pasta and bread are a yes, Spaghettios are an unfortunate no. Sweets don't taste like anything and softdrinks hurt like hell.

I think I could eat an entire box of Mac n Cheese, but we don't have any in the house.

Basically, I'm a little irritable.

So for now. Here we are.

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