If beauty is truth and surgery, the fountain of youth...

Today, Mama Polt had to have minor surgery on her foot. It's her left foot and she has a "knot" on the outside of it, at about the midpoint. She only went to the doctors about it because it was numb around it. The doctors told her it didn't look cancerous, but they recommended getting it removed anyway. So today we went in.

We got there about 12:35, she was to be there at 12:45. They said the whole wouldn't take long, and we were out of there bt 3:45. Which doesn't seem long, but in terms of waiting and waiting and hearing no news, it seemed an eternity.

She told me her doctor was Asian, so I'm thinking like a Pat Morita type: small, wrinkled, white hair, smiles a lot, probably moustache. oh NO! this kid was tall-ish, young (he looked like he could still be in high school), and GORGEOUS! Man seeing him almost made me want to have a knot on my foot just so I could talk to him about it. Now bear in mind here, I AM overly attracted to Asian. But even with that, I still this guy was cute. And afterwards, when he came to talk to me, I just kept looking at his lips and wanting to run my tongue all over them. Although I made sure to nod at appropriate times. And then, after they let me back with mom, he came back to tell her how things had gone. ANd this time, he didn't have the long white jacket on, so I could see how lean he was. And even though the scrubs were kinda baggy, he still had a pretty nice ass...from what I could see. *SIGH*

Oh, mom? She came through it fine, thanks for asking. She was told all this stuff (stay off the foot, keep it elevated, blah blah blah) and she said she's do it, yes, sir. And when i get her home, does she get on the couch and prop it up like she's supposed to? oh NO! She goes to the kitchen, gets herself a bowl of chicken soup she had made, then went to the bathroom, then changed her shirt and only THEN sat on the couch with it propped up, while she ate the soup. I was prepared to get her stuff to drink and eat, and help her to the bathroom, and maybe even stay the night if she needed to me to. Pffft, who was I kidding. She was moving all over that house like nothing at all had happened.

later in the evening, she called me. And she was prattling on for a bit about her blood pressure, and something the dog did, and then she says, she took a Vicodin earlier. I told her I could tell, cause she sounded a bit...off. Then she said she took a nap too, and laughed. I asked her how she was doing, and she said, "OH YEAH! That's why i called! [laughs] I'm doing okay, but when did I take the Vicodin? I mean, when did you leave, I took it right after you left." I told her I left about 4:50 or so. "Noooo! I took the pill about 4:00, didn't I? Didn't you leave then?" I told her we didn't even get back TO the house until about 3:50 or so. "Oh that's right? [laughs]. Okay, I better right that down, so i remember." I asked her if she wanted me to come over, and she said no she was fine. Well, i guess she was. She's feeling no pain with that Vicodin.

I'll check on her periodically throughout the day. She'll probably get tired of hearing from me. But that's job, as a son, to worry about my mother when she's high on pain meds, right?

POLT Listening to "Sell, Sell, Sell" by The Barenaked Ladies

I HAVE mentioned how much I hate time travel, haven't I? - Green Lantern, Justice League Unlimited