I got my aspiration on today. It went well, and now I have a lovely bruise on the ol’ boobie.
As usual, I can’t take any good painkillers – only Tylenol. I don’t mean any disrespect to the fine people who make Tylenol, but … WTF, Tylenol? Seriously. Tylenol is only good when you pair it with wine. Which I am. Because I am a proactive, smart, take-charge, kind-of-buzzed lady.
Kudos to Average Jane who advised that oh, crazy lady, maybe you don’t need to tell your new male boss exactly why you need to take the afternoon off. Good call. Based on Jane’s comment, I mentioned it to My Guy … who was basically like, “Oh dear God! Why would you tell your boss about your boob? No! Nooo!”
So, yeah. Thanks, Jane!
Mega thanks, too, to my dear husband, who understands that every breast procedure calls for burgers and fries. So, when I texted him, “The boob needs Five Guys,” he did not question the request. Instead, he came home with fries and burgers – the perfect accompaniment to Tylenol and wine.
He just offered me more wine. I should probably stop blogging.