I feel like a damn Swingline stapler.

The bag is gone from my abdomen, but now I have a line of staples and a freshly dressed wound where the bag used to be. Talk about aching. Sheesh. The staples come out next Monday.

Deb graciously drove me to and from the doctor. I swear, I owe her about 10 favors. And that’s the funny thing — she doesn’t want a damn thing. She just wanted to make sure I was taken care of.

One thing I’ve learned during the past two weeks — I have a great deal of caring and selfless friends. I’ve spent so much time bitching about acquaintances throughout the years who are happy as long as you’re the one doing the favors, but it’s clear to me that I did an incredible job of picking the current circle of friends. This would have been so much harder, and I’m so grateful that it wasn’t.

Deb just lost a friend last weekend in a car wreck. In fact, the girl and her two sisters were in the car together, and they were hit by a drunk driver in North Carolina. All of them died … except the drunk driver, of course. Makes you just want to shake your fist at the humanity of it all, especially when you learn that her friend had a congenital heart defect that she’s struggled to survive, and she had just adopted a baby two weeks ago.

I think, strength permitting, I’m going to take an adventure safari to Wallyworld. I need some gauze and tape for my wounds, and I understand we’re going to get a visit from Isabella later this week. Just dandy. Let’s just hope the storm doesn’t take away my new, yet unused, grill!

I am craving some Popeye’s tonight. Maybe if I have enough money tomorrow, I’ll have to indulge myself in some cajun chicken. It’s the little things, ya know?

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