Believe it or not, I spare you a great deal of whining and complaining about my health. Today, however, I need to set aside the regularly scheduled post and take a moment to complain. I have a pretty high pain tolerance, so when I say this was painful I mean that it was painful. Are we clear?

And before I give you the short form of this story I’m going to warn you right now that, no offense, I don’t want to hear any personal stories on the subject. Stories of injuries that you, your family, friends, or your cousin’s ex-boyfriend have suffered that resulted in death or dismemberment will only aggravate me today. Do not aggravate me. I merely wish to wallow in my own searing pain, thank you.

Short form:
1. there was the dislocation of the bone
2. there was the relocation of the bone
3. there was the struggle to stay concious and not throw up
4. there was the realization that Madonna is actually God

The one thing I can say my orthopedic surgeon is that he tends to be honest in their greed, like all in his practice. They’re quite upfront about the fact that you are the downpayment on their new Jag or Rolls. I realize that this is arrogant and offputting to a lot of people, but I personally appreciate the honesty. It is for this reason that I will probably be able to refrain from complaining about my orthopedist in the next few weeks, for those who are cowering in anticipation of another screed about how irritating doctors can be. With that in mind, hopefully this is the last you’ll hear on this whole subject.*

In pretty much unrelated news…while I was still laying on the floor realizing I’d done grievous injury to my foot but not yet realizing the full extent of the problem, I came up with a new answer for people who badger us day in and day out to have children. I’m going to tell them we’ve decided to adopt. When they ask what changed our minds I’m going to explain that I want one of those cool shirts like Madonna has that says “mother” on the front and “fucker” on the back.

Now if you’ll excuse me I need to return to my doomsday film festival. Up next: Fail-Safe and the China Syndrome.

*the subject of this injury, not the subject of doctors in general.