8.15.2005

fyi: bloody aftertastes do not diminish the amazingness that is diet vanilla coke

for inquiring minds, the anesthesiologist was the perfect amount of very cute but not hot. that man was born to do what he does. he completely knocked me out. as i lay there looking like a troll with the world's largest surgical gown and my hair in a shower cap fro, he told me i had beautiful teeth, which made me completely forget that i was moments away from entering into a comatosed state. it was one of the most perfect compliments ive ever received. it was simple, it had nothing to do with the context, it was completely unexpected, and most importantly, there was no motive whatsoever for it. somehow when you receive a completely random compliment moments before surgical tools dig into your face it removes the cheese factor and turns what would otherwise be a generic attempt to cheer someone up into the perfect compliment. anyway, that was my last conscious memory before surgery. if i was a writer i would put that scene into a book. its like a movie in my mind. i even have the perfect background music.

i regained consciousness a few hours later. my post surgery state can be summed up with this:

massive pain, blood, 5 inch nasal packing that felt like it was poking into my brain, bandaged swollen face, pain, the worst sore throat ive ever had (from the tubes they stuff down your throat during surgery), too much medication, pain, bedrest, dizzy spells, im so ugly now moments, tv, suppositories (sorry), flowers, pain, love.

going through severe pain is beneficial in ways though. it gives you time to think about things you need to think about. i needed that blessing.

after the packing came out, there was a world of difference in my ability to ignore the pain. you really do get used to it. my first active day was the day of saima's shower. exhausting but fun. she seemed happy which made it all worth it. yesterday, was picnic day. blah i feel like im writing in caveman sentences. thats probably a signal to end this post. my brain feels like i have salt water sloshing through it. 22222222222222222222222222222

8.05.2005

maybe my anesthesiologist will be cute. dont want hot. just cute.

im leaving for my surgery in a few minutes. scared. dont think. if i end up looking like michael jackson afterwards and never leave my house again (i'm vain), i love you all. everyone one of you. even the weirdo that left that weirdo comment. i love you.

okay, so i have a few more minutes to leave so ill write about something any normal human being would think about minutes before they leave to have surgery. reality tv.

i've discovered that you can tell what kind of day i'm having based on my opinion of reality tv on that given day.

theres some days when i tell people that i never watch reality tv. hah.

theres other days when i vacuously watch some random reality tv show while im arduously contemplating about whether i should eat ice cream or not. my opinion on reality tv gets clouded out by my indecisiveness about whether anyone would really notice if i gained 78 lbs or not. (i usually conclude that no one would notice and go ahead and eat the ice cream.) its hard to form conclusive opinions about important subjects when youre constantly pacing back and forth to the fridge.

sometimes im having a i'm-engaged-in-society political kind of day and i issue fatwas about how reality tv stars do not represent islam or all muslims. then i mail them to thomas friedman.

then theres always a few angry-with-life kind of days where i'll go on a tirade (to myself) about how at least people on reality tv are actually willing to admit to the world that they crave fame and would do anything for money. those are the days when i respect the creative aspect of the sluttiness, bc anyone can go to a good school and get some boring job and marry some hot boring robot with the right pedigree and slut themselves out that way. but it takes creativity and negative brain mass to think that you can skip a few steps, and become audrey hepburn just for being a skanky drama queen with a bunch of people who have nothing better than to eat beef jerky all day. theres always a place in my heart for sheer stupidity. dreams can come true.

gross. why am i talking about reality tv? i dont even watch it.