german word of the day: die Kreuzband
translation: litterally, cross band. or in this case, anterior cruciate ligament
let’s compare shall we? this
sexy
vs. this
ummm… not so sexy
less hair AND less blood? looks better than mine.
tomorrow… germany, soccer, and diesel dreams.
d is fine. she’s sleeping on the couch with her leg elevated, moderately drugged. she’ll prolly kill me for this later, but it was just too funny not to tell.
how to begin?… lessee… well, it probably goes without saying, but having knee surgery is a painful and moderately debilitating experience. it’s not open heart or anything like that, but for at least a week afterwards you’re pretty much immobile. dull pain is a constant companion just nagging at the edge of your conciousness and, according to this doctor’s instructions anyways, you’re not supposed to take a shower for at least 3 days. all these things, combined with a gigantic, staight-locked leg immobilizer can make certain “recreational activities” a bit limited. keeping this in mind we tried to squeeze in as much as possible (no pun intended) over the last week or so, in expectation of being cut off for a while. however, there is a interesting quirk about birth control, that i am only actually aware of when faced with situations like these. apparently, antibiotics can render them ineffective. so last night @ 10:30 or so, i ran out the door to go to walgreens to get a box of condoms. on the way out, i asked matt if he wanted anything and he asked for a hershey’s bar with almonds.
so off i went to walgreens but ended up at safeway instead because i didnt have any cash. i grabbed matt’s chocolate bar, got help from poor stock lady finding the condoms (which only came in the big boxes of 12), and headed to checkout. standing in line behind the girls reading cosmo, i noticed some cans of red bull in the little display fridge next to the candy and realized, “damn! i would really enjoy the flavor of a red bull right now.” so i grabbed a can and put it on the belt. when it finally became my turn to pay, with these three things in front of her the chick at the counter keeps a straight face and says hi, but i could tell she was thinking…
she was thinking, “hmmmm. interesting night planned?”
after i took d home from surgery this morning i had to go turn in her scripts and wait to get her meds. there’s this one pharmacy tech that i occasionally go rounds with for kicks. the first time i met her, i tried to guess where she’s from. she had this accent i couldnt place and i took that as kind of a challenge. she promised me a pound puppy if i could come up with it in 5 tries. i looked her up and down: blue eyes, olive skin, black hair. got her full name: maria ellington (changed to protect the innocent, but pretty damn close). and got to work. i cant remember what i started with, but i worked my way through morrocco (berber?) and algeria. then guessed turkey. nope, but closer. the little vietnamese pharmacist who was on shift was laughing at the whole exchange and kept telling me if i was getting warm or not. i was at a loss tho. blue eyes? light skin? european sounding name? wtf? not spain. close to turkey? isreal perhaps? the little vietnamese lady says, “close!”
gah! that has to be the worst clue ever. after guessing things like syria, palestine, and jordan (and blowing my 5 chances), i took another look and her and realized she was probably persian. iran! ching!! what really threw me off was the name. its not remotely middle eastern. not persian or arabic or jewish. i suppose that was the final clue for me actually. the first person i ever met from iran was a christian exile running a pizza place in zittau, germany. he’s also the first person from iran that got offended when i said something about him being arab. a mistake i never made again, btw. persians are definitely not arabs.
wait a minute! close to ISREAL? it’s like three thousand miles and two whole countries away! maria was working again today with the same pharmacist and i mentioned that to her. she said, “well they’re kind of close. close enough for a…”
“MISSILE!” we both said at the same time. yeah, i was thinking the same thing.
the rest of the conversation is interesting, but probably not good to mention here. after 25 years in the states, she went back to iran for the 1st time two months ago. let’s just say, maria is not too keen on the government of iran.
long enough for ya? why do u think it’s being posted at 10 to midnight?
one thing that isn’t obvious is that there are no NEW scars. which actually kinda worries me. particularly because there’s no hole or cut or anything on the back of my leg. i mean, supposedly they took a tendon graft from my hamstring. i need to check up on my anatomy. maybe the tendon wraps around the front of the knee to the shin. i know they attached something in there because not only did i see it on the monitor, but i have the video to prove it. i will ask on wednesday when i go get the stitches out. guess i didnt know as much about the procedure as i thought i did.
i swear, next time i tear something, screw it! no pun intended.
they just kinda stared at me for a minute or more, before one of the nurses got it. these are doctors ppl! doctors!! i have decided i’m going to med school to be an anesthesiologist. they always seem to have the worst bedside manner.
