If I sound loopy in this post, blame it on the drugs.
This morning, I had the unmitigated joy of having some minor surgery done on my neck...ever hear of the MOHS surgery? It's a chemosurgery often done to treat common types of skin cancer.
I now have this HUGE kick-ass bandage on my neck that looks like every single vampire between Dracula and Edward Cullen (from "Twilight") had their way with me. It's pretty freakin' awesome.
The doctor - who looked like Doogie Howser, only blonde and with glasses - was kind, and actually put the stitches INSIDE my skin...he said that this way, I wouldn't look like "Frankenstein" ...his words, not mine. He then went on to say, "Yeah - I don't think you want a railroad track scar on your neck."
I was kinda' looking forward to having a kick-ass scar to show off to the kids...but deep-down, my vanity is very thankful for the doctor's actions today. A "Railroad track" scar? Um, yeah...don't think so.
The surgery went well, for the most part. I warned Dr. Doogie ahead of time that I am somewhat immune to anesthetic...if you give the normal person, say, 500 mg of an anesthetic, I will need double that. I know this, because I have had lots of surgeries and procedures, and it has happened every time. Every time. No exceptions. I mean, I know ME better than anyone else knows ME. I am the EXPERT on ME. And I know what I need.
He didn't believe me...and sure enough, after he gives me the shot in my neck to numb it, and starts cutting, YOWZA!!!
I felt it. It HURT. Like Hell.
He says, "Huh....you felt that?"
Uh, yeah...I did. What gave you that idea, Doogie? Perhaps when I screamed and shot off the table 3 feet??!!
He gave me a second shot, and I held back the, "I told you so!" comment that was on the tip of my tongue.
Don't piss off a doctor who's holding a needle in one hand and a scalpel in the other.
I've learned that, too, in all of my surgeries and procedures.