Free at last - not so fast...

*Sigh* Repeat, *Sighhhhh*.

All right, so what's a guy to do. Here I am, just getting used to celebrating the absence of Nurses and Doctors and nagging wife (just kidding, Hun!) and lo and behold, another medical condition crops up. I have tumours in the bladder. Now, I don't want to go into excruciating detail about how these were discovered, but the "instrument" used to "scope" the location out HAD to have been invented in either the dark ages or in some extreme nazi experimental laboratory. I was sore for three days, and could hardly do jumping-jacks (not that I would DO jumping-jacks, but for sure this was the excuse not to.)

The only good news is that the Doc said these tumours did not look cancerous, and what the normal procedure is that they use the same hideous - no, no, "wonderful" - scope to basically lassoe the offensive little buggers and strangle them right off the interior surface of the bladder. They do condescend to keeping you overnight at the hospital, I suppose because the possibility of peeing right away will be next to impossible unless one is either drugged or drunk...

Anyway, I am scheduled for an ultrasound AND have an appointment with the butcher, no, no, "Doctor" who I suppose wants me to sign a pile of release forms - you know the kind - sign here, just in case the lassoe slips and we cut-off-more-than-we-intended-and-now-you-can-REALLY-wear-ladies-underwear...

Yippie. Anyway, I am taking this news in my usual calm manner, which is driving my poor wife bananas. She has put me on a sugar restricted diet, makes me drink lemon water, digest aeorbic oxygen (20 drops, in *sigh* water) and looks like she expects me to keel over any second.

My children have no sympathy, and are still brats.

All I really wanna' know is, can I still have chocolate ice cream?

*sigh*