Charming, but single

Ok, I didn’t die or stop dating or blogging. I had surgery. My tonsils out. And I really am fine. But having your tonsils out gets rougher as you age because healing takes longer. And I knew this going in. I did. But I still had this vision involving me lounging about on a sea of pillows and blankets, numb on pain medication, while I watched Grey’s Anatomy and The Office and my mom fetched my chocolate milkshakes, which I could drink without worry of calories because I wouldn’t be able to eat actual food anyway. And I would be able to wax poetic and write drippy posts (see: pain medication). Well, it was not to be. Apparently when a doctor carves out serious holes in the side of your throat, even the best pain meds leave something to be desired. The past week has been a sea of liquid medications, obnoxious pain, headaches, fever and near dehydration. And NONE of my doctors looked like Patrick Dempsey. And I couldn’t eat chocolate shakes because I can’t use a straw and because ice cream makes my stomach hurt. So my mom’s been going all Nurse Ratched and forcefeeding me popsicles and a custom cocktail of orange Gatorade and water (because pure Gatorade hurts my throat too much) on the rocks. In a fever-induced crying fit, I think I swore off ever having any kind of surgery again. Or having children. Also, I promised my mom I would make sure she got the best nursing home ever – with the good rocking chairs – for not letting me die. So I can’t really afford to have kids, because I hear long term care is pretty pricey. Sigh.