Two days in a row I’ve gotten compliments from people about how good I look. Ha, I know it’s only because to read here you’d think I was hiding under my bed, gasping for air, looking like some cross between Emily Dickinson and John Keats.
But it nevertheless kind of freaks me out that the farther along we go to finding out what’s wrong with me the better I feel.
Anyway, the Butcher is taking me to the surgeon and I will have news when I return.
Keep your fingers crossed, because the sooner we get this shit straightened out, the sooner this blog can return to the crap it used to be full of.