Dammit!

After my surgery and heated chemotherapy (HIPEC), I spent two months in the hospital.  At one point my room looked like a funeral parlor, there were about twenty floral arrangements.  Now I love flowers and I love receiving them and I was/am hugely grateful for the kind gestures of my friends and family.  But we need to mix it up a little, too many flowers can make a patient feel like a priest is about to walk through the door to administer their last rites.  So what to buy your loved one instead?  I recommend “Dammit Dolls.”  They are bright, joyful, nutty little creatures that you can bang against your hospital bed when you get frustrated waiting for your morphine.  There are many to choose from, one is even especially designed for cancer patients, with half the proceeds going towards fighting childhood cancer:

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Another favorite of mine (no name needed):

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And they also offer these fab little Dammit Heads:

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To shop the whole collection:

https://dammitdolls.com/shop/dolls/Team-Rocket/Team-Rocket

 

 

 

 

Hospital-Chic

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I can now officially say that I have a sparkly brain!  On Wednesday I had my brain aneurysm “coiled” with platinum, so I’m feeling pretty swanky!  The surgery went smoothly for which I am very grateful.  I only had to spend one night at the hospital and I had the loveliest nurses.  But, my God almighty, I have never experienced headaches like that!  I spent the night riding waves of intense nausea mixed with the most brutal headaches.  They gave me morphine which helped the pain – a bit – but made the nausea worse.   And as with all my recent medical experiences, there was an absurd quality to it: the patient next to me had an odd, bedazzled female visitor who was blasting Celine Dion while performing a weird interpretive dance – in an ICU style recovery room – r u kidding me?!

The doctors wrote me a prescription for Percocet to help with my headaches, which are supposed to last for a few days.  For some reason I felt deep shame picking up the drugs – I felt like a low-life!  I was paranoid that I would become addicted and that I would end up like Nurse Jackie, doing anything to secure my next high.  Once home though, the drugs were a godsend and I spent most of the day in a loopy sleep dreaming of Iron Maiden – who were dressed like Wizards! – flying through the sky.

Editor’s Note:  A special thanks goes out to my cancer!  Had I not been in the hospital being treated for Mesothelioma – where I ended up with “Neuroleptic Malignant Syndrome” after a bad reaction to the drug Haldol – I never would have had my brain scanned and my aneurysm would have gone untreated.  So thank you Mesothelioma!