my day

May day goes something like this:

9:30 - awake
10:30 - get to the hospital
10:30 -12:30 - remain pissed I can't go across the street and have a chik-fil-a biscuit and coffee.
12:30 - Dr Symbas sticks a giant fucking spike into my left knee and scrapes out the bad cartilage
1:30 - home
1:31 and beyond - Percocet, couch and cartoons

I LIVE!

I'm home. They knocked me out, so there was no watching my surgery. Dammit.

Apparently I tore a ligament at some point in the last two decades and it healed on to another one. That, and my cartilage was all fucked up. It wasn't just torn, it was frayed at the ends, like an old pair of jeans.

I'm parked on the couch with my laptop, the Tivo remote and a 2-liter of cream soda. Oh, hello Mr Percocet! Time to catch up on the Daily Show.

It's dead Jim

House is not happening. Search starts over when I can walk again.