Where to begin? I was a huge Charlie’s Angels fan when I was a kid. Loved them. I even had a Kris (Cheryl Ladd) doll. She was smaller than my Barbies and couldn’t wear their clothes, so she was always in the gold culottes and green wedges she came in. I loved those green wedges. I even had a Charlie’s Angels lunchbox. Metal, of course. This was the 70’s. Farrah Fawcett wasn’t on the show long (only one season, I think), but it was still long enough for me to fall in love with her too. After all, she was an Angel. And I will never forget her in The Burning Bed and Small Sacrifices. Cancer is a bitch.
Michael Jackson? Of course I loved Thriller, but I was more of a Duran Duran fan (still am) and while I had Thriller on vinyl, I saved my intense fawning for Roger Taylor and Simon Le Bon. Michael Jackson’s death weirds me out on some level, but the insane outpouring of grief is surreal. Kids who weren’t even born when “Beat It” first played on the radio are sobbing in the streets. Frankly, I find that disturbing. Michael Jackson turned into a train wreck so long ago, it is hard for me to recollect that early magic he wrought. I’ve watched some videos but they’ve just made me sad and a little angry at the joke he turned himself into. What a fucking mess.
Last weekend Brian and I went to DC for our anniversary. We had a great time. Even came thisclose to President Obama (we were stopped at a crosswalk while his motercade flew by). Lots of great food and amazing sights. Our trip was too short, so we’re looking forward to going back. That’s a lame recap, eh? I just don’t have it in me to talk more about it right now.
On Thursday, I went in for laparoscopic surgery. It went well. My doctor was able to unblock my left tube and my right tube apparently looks great. I even have pictures. The one of my left tube pre-unblocking is rather gross. You can see that something is not right, especially in comparison to the picture of my right tube. As for any endometriosis or other scarring, I’m not quite sure. Brian had to make some decisions for me with the doctor in the midst of the surgery and that nerved him up so much, I don’t think he remembers everything my doctor told him after I was sewn back up and in recovery. I have two post-op appointments over the next four weeks, so I’ll find out more then.
I’m feeling better today. My incisions (one in my belly button and two about an inch long below it) itch more than anything, but I still need to be careful about how I move around. I still can’t stand up straight, but I’ve managed the pain with ibupofen and not the bottle of oxycodone on my dresser (anyone want that? it makes me sick- can’t take it). Even though my period stopped last weekend, whatever the doc did started things up again and that has been lovely. Overall though, it was a simple procedure and my recovery has been uneventful.
That’s the story, clinically speaking. Emotionally? I’m all over the place. Thankful the surgery worked, even if it has left me with a fractionally higher chance of tubal pregnancy (my left tube is elongated and rubbery, but now functional). Relieved. Optimistic. Scared to death. Here’s to one less roadblock.
She’s not called Peanut for nothing.



