Giving my Health Insurance a Work Out

Tomorrow I'm going in for a little minor outpatient surgery. Sadly I will be walking out with the same size boobs I walked in with, but happily minus a uterine lining.

I have to say, that sounds even more appealing in print than it does out loud. Try it..."UTERINE LINING". Mmmm. Has a nice ring to it.

This is supposed to be the last resort short of the big H which I'd rather not get if I can help it. I like my uterus. It just doesn't like me. We're working on it.

I'm driving myself over to the hospital at 6am to check in, and Jim will be over there after dropping the kids off at their respective schools. They won't let me take myself home after being under general anesthesia and on what will hopefully be pocketfulls of pain killers.

Mmmm. Pain killers.

I told Jim the other day that I was kind of looking forward to having a couple days during which I am supposed to do absolutely nothing--and not feel guilty about it.

And of course, there's the pain killers.

To clarify, I have plenty of days where I do absolutely nothing, but it's all that guilt about it that really pisses on my parade.

I was thinking about making myself a nice little play list on my iPod. Do they let you listen to music while your under the knife or, in this case, some sort of laser-beam coat hanger contraption?

Not that it matters. I'll be completely out.

But what if I have some kind of out of body experience? Mama needs a soundtrack.