Slow.

Again, this blog entry is a frank discussion of a somewhat adult topic. If you or anyone in your traveling party feels uncomfortable or unwilling to proceed, please let the flight attendant know and they will kindly reseat you in a tamer blog entry. Thank you.

I’ve often commented about how time is flying by. The world is moving at a near hypersonic pace and I am desperately trying to slow down and savor what’s around me.

Time has now come to a grinding halt. When you have a tube sticking out the end of your penis for 2 1/2 weeks, the days, hours, hell, even the minutes tend to stretch out to infinity. And it’s only day four.

I am doing better this morning than I was yesterday at this time. I am definitely healing, but I’m feeling like all the healing done during the day is getting undone at night when I try to sleep and end up having erotic dreams. It hurts like hell and doesn’t allow me the luxury of completing the dream or getting back to sleep. I have a call in the doctor’s office to see if this is normal or if it should be a concern, I’m awaiting their return call.

I have been parallel parked on the couch since Friday afternoon, save for getting up for a few meals, taking a shower on Saturday and going to the bathroom to empty my bag of fun. My Mom stopped by for a visit yesterday, and she was a most welcomed site. She added another stuffed animal to my collection and brought some delicious cookie-cake type things that are just delightful!

Earl has been working hard playing health care attendant. And we’ve been watching television. Lots of television. And even more television. Last night we watched the movie “Big Fish” (excellent movie, by the way). Yesterday I watched “Airport 1975” with Charleton Heston and Karen Black. I have a bunch of disaster movies geared up for TiVo. This morning I couldn’t sleep so I watched a documentary on how they build the great Ice Hotel in Iceland.

Slowly but surely, however, I am losing my mind. I’m just bored. I want to go to work as I’m scheduled to go to work tomorrow but I’m nervous about the blood that I’m still seeing. I really don’t know how I’m going to work all rigged up like this. I guess I’ll cross that bridge when I get to it. I’ll just await the doctor’s return call for now.

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