Did I write about my second kidney surgery here? If so, here's a little repeat, if not, then here it is:
Basically they drugged me three times so that they could get me to stop talking.
Yup. I talked throughout the entire thing, until they finally got enough inside of me to put me down.
So that was two weeks ago, and today I came in for my third surgery. This time I only remember waking up, telling them that there was too much pain, and then asking them to continue with the surgery when they were winding down. Apparently there's only so much radiation a body can handle, but try explaining that to a very determined drugged person. They finally convinced me, and I somehow made it out of there.
So I came home and made kidney sandwiches. I don't think I'll be buying that meat anymore. Smells bad when cooking. Doesn't have the greatest flavor, either.
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