Day Twenty

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 Hello cruel and wonderful world!  Ryan here.  I just wanted to say a few words and then run screaming for the hills.

First things first, I am a real boy.  I went in on Sunday three weekishes ago for a surgery that would wipe my life clean.  I remember giving the thumbs up and then waiting for the prep room. The rest, is history.  By history I meant that I dodged in and out of consciousness and received TONS of prep room attention.  I got cleanings, grooming, bed prep, and waxing that are no good for anyone.  Ever.  

This was all a pre-game head home.  Which was completely awful.  I got home, which was awful.  I crawled into bed, which was awful.  I stayed in there for days, which was awful.  The come-to-our-home nurse and technician were a wonder to behold as they started to lay down the plans.  We went through the plans as they went on their merry way and then came back in about a week as we revisited the plans and re-walked and re-talked out everything that we had gone over a few days before.  We repeated this until Monday of this week.

Mondays are terrible.  Deciding the days of the week is terrible.  And I generally feel pretty terrible.  I am sure that there are better days coming at me from down the pike but as far as I can tell it all feels mostly awful.

Thank you for the reads and the visits.  You are each and every one of you very thoughtful and precious.  Bless your souls.  

Thanks and a big peace out.

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