New Study Shows Routine Tonsillectomies ARE Harder Than Pulling Teeth

In the last four weeks Luke has lost two tonsils, two adenoids and two front teeth. That’s a lot of loss for one little guy. One thing he hasn’t lost, however, is his spunk. He had some complications from the surgery that kept him out of school (and in bed) longer than he would like to have been. This was a result of the ENT accidentally cauterizing (burning) a fairly large portion of his tongue AND sending us home with no mention of it. So on day three, or four of his post-operative recovery instead of starting to feel better, he developed a mass on his tongue so large that he could barely swallow liquids. 
Other than being furious, we were concerned the trauma to his tongue would affect his speech. 
During a follow-up appointment with his ENT, the doctor asked Luke to try saying some different words. 
ENT: “Can you say ‘puppy?'”
Luke: “Arf, arf!”
ENT: “No, I’m asking if you can say the word puppy?”
Luke: “Of course I can. Don’t be ridiculous.”
It was clear to the doctor at that point that Luke still held a grudge and who was I to blame him. When he finished the exam and opened the door to exit the room Luke said loudly, “Mom, I still fink he should go to jail.”
A few days before his surgery, Luke let Brantley pull his extremely loose tooth, but it required a good deal of bribery. So we were very surprised when just a few days ago Luke came running into our bedroom. 
“Mom and Dad, I pulled my own toof,” he said handing to me. 
“But Luke,” I said. “It wasn’t even that loose. How did you get it out so quickly?”
He placed his hands on his hips in the way he does when preparing to give us a dissertation.
“Welllll, I bited a heavy pillow, of course. Then, I shook my head around like a dog and it just fell out.”
Of course he did. 
Maybe they should change the analogous reference of something being difficult from “It’s like pulling teeth” to “It’s like being an ENT when a five-year-old makes you look like an ass.”

Grapes of Wrath

I can no longer pretend to ignore the whispers and mumbles on the internet regarding my recent private life. Since it’s only a matter of time before it is leaked to a tabloid, I will just come out and say what America is waiting on me to say. The only caveat to my announcement is that I will take no follow up questions (yes, I will). This ends here. 

Last week, I had butt hole surgery. Twice.

I’m not going to waste your time by sugar coating this story with glamorous tales of cheek implants, or liposuction. The truth is I was at a ‘rhoid rage level ten out of ten and could simply take no more. In fact, my balls were so impressive that I wasn’t cured in one lone procedure. No, my dear sweet friends I had to be neutered TWICE. They clearly underestimated me. 

The first procedure was on Tuesday and when it had to be repeated on Thursday everyone breathed a sigh of relief when we got word that my angel, my protector, my white knight would be riding into town in her Ford Taurus to help care for me. I’m of course referring to my Mom, Joycie-May. Would she bring my illness bell from childhood that I used to ring every time I needed her? No, she wouldn’t and my husband would sure as hell be glad for that, but she would be there to pamper me, make me sandwiches, and care for The One That Caused All The Problems In My Downstairs When He Jumped Out Of My Body Like An Alien With ADHD. We call him, “Luke,” for short. 

So keep in mind that while I may have been down, I certainly have not been out- of snacks because Joyce keeps me full. Ooh-wee, that gal can cook. So let us move past this and onto the Awkward Smoking Pictures big reveal that is set for Monday. 

One last thing that I would like to mention is that this blog post was NOT sponsored by Preparation-H because that product is worthless and does not deserve a spot on any dusty drug store shelf. That is all. Thank you and good night.