The rumors true. I am bringing sexy back.
While my stress-fracture-induced limp is mostly gone, I’ve added a new weapon to my arsenal. It involves oozing.
See, I had two moles removed on Friday. Because even though I stay away from the sun and wear SPF 20,000, I still have questionable skin issues. These questionable skin issues left me with stitches on my arm and leg.
Yesterday, the wound on my arm started to really hurt. And I was up for three freakin’ hours in the middle of the night, unable to sleep due to the heat and pain from my arm.
Oh, and the oozing blisters. Did I mention those?
I went back to the dermatologist and got in for a wound check with a different doc than the one I usually see. This new doc had a picture of some sort of maharishi-looking dude on the wall of his exam room and had this horrific Muzak piped in. Now, I know pretty much every song ever. But even I couldn’t identify this music. It was sort of like Glen Campbell, if Glen Campbell a) weren’t cool; and b) were a dying egret.
I spent 90 seconds with the doc. I’m having an allergic reaction to ointment. The blisters are fantastic.
I feel disgusting and defective. Also, depressed. And itchy.
However, today is the greatest day of Lil’ Frankfurter’s life. I fell asleep while watching The Price Is Right, and he cuddled with me all the way through Maury. I do believe in the healing power of dachshund love.
Also? I believe there’s nothing like Jerry Springer to put things in perspective. Today, a very southern mama admonished her physically violent daughter. “Don’t you swat my hand away! You know I was a wrestler and I will take you out!”