I woke up at 5am this morning with a horrible ache in my left nut. Hmmm, before I began blogging, I don't think I could have ever imagined typing out such a statement for the whole world to read.
I woke up at 5am this morning with a horrible ache in my left nut.
Well there it is. I'm laying here on the couch, waiting for 8am so I can call the butcher, I mean doctor who slashed, I mean snipped my nuts to ask him why I would wake up a week later in mortal pain. Whatever the case, it can't be good and I'm not fucking amused at this turn of events.
PW was smart enough to immediately get me a couple of hydrocodone pills and the agony has quieted to dull ache-kinda like 3 minutes after a nasty kick in the balls. You know, the point when you can breathe again and you're sure you're not going to puke, but wonder if it would help and are still willing to do ANYTHING to make the pain go away. That's about where I'm at right now.
Gee, what else can I say about my balls to a bunch of people I don't know? Well, there's little or no swelling and no redness, so I kind of doubt it's an infection. It just fucking hurts.
OK, enough about my balls. I'm hobbling downstairs for a smoke.
I just realized that EVERY time I need the services of a doctor, dentist, auto mechanic, prostitute, or furnace repair technician, it's after hours on the weekend, middle of the fucking night, whatever. Why is this? Oh, and I just threw in the prostitute to see if you're paying attention.