No, Really.
Tuesday, Jan. 25, 2005, 8:39 a.m.

I know. I know. I've been terrible in the updating department but what with the hectic schedule of half-doing the laundry every other week and making dinner three whole times, it's been tough! Hokay, I have no excuse, really, but that won't prevent me from trying to come up with one anyway. It'll make us both feel better, won't it? Shhhhhure it will. Now then, let me reach into my enormous bag of excuses and see what I can come up with. OK, let's see, how about: I was arrested as a result of mistaken identity. Meh, a little too generic. Plus, you all know that when I get arrested, there's no mistaken anything involved. Alrighty then: I eloped with a merchant marine and had two glorious weeks of ecstacy before meeting his other wives. Mebe. Mebe. *rifling through bag* Ahhhh, this: I had to ship my grandmother's bones back to India. That might work. A sufficiently time-consuming, yet emotional excuse, so you can't rilly give me a hard time about the lack of writing. See my witchy ways? Yes then. *putting away bag for another day*

So, after I arranged to ship my grandmother's bones back to India, I met with my surgeon last week and for those of you that don't know, yes both of you, we finally set up a date for my neck surgery: February 17th! Oh blah dee. I CANNOT believe it is so soon but has taken so goddamn long. Without boring you with too many unnecessary details (Hel-LO! about 76 entries too late for that), I had to sign fife thousant different releases in order to get the surgery. The doctor was all "And you might be paralyzed, and you might die, and you might get gonorrhea, and you might develop trench mouth, and you might..." and I was all "Uhhhh-huh *initialing initialing intialing*" But the truth of the matter is that the surgery that I am getting--artifical disc replacement--is still, howdoyousay?--experimental? Yes, experimental. I put that link there so you all can read up on it and later say, "I know someone who got shingles from that!" Always thinking of you, I am. Hennyway, when signing the ginormous packet of papes, I found out that I am only one of 180 people nationwide that they have allotted for this Continued Access phase of the clinical study and only ONE OF TEN in Charlotte! And in lieu of feeling like the Guinea Pig (Italian-American Pig for you PC-folk) that I so clearly am, instead I just feel So.Fucking.Lucky! Nobody really looks forward to surgery, but at this point, I CANNOT wait.

The only thing that causes me any grief over the sitchy, really, is The Insurance Company. Somewheres I'm sure I've written a diatribe on how modern insurance companies are The New Mafia. They are Bastard People, that's what they are. Oh, the whole healthcare system is redonculous, to be sure. Story in brief: 1)The insurance company will pay for the surgery but they won't pay for the Bryan Disc itself (cost: $5000) and they won't pay for the doctor to insert it b) Surgeon tells me how it takes "lit'rally" 2 minutes to put it in and then his assistant comes in right after to tell me that I'll be charged $1500 for the implantation of the disc and I'm all "Ummm, bitch just told me it took 3 shakes of a leg?" iii) "If anything goes wrong with the disc and it has to be removed, it will be returned to the manufacturer for testing." Nice try. I'll be bronzing that motherfocker and wearing it as a necklace--I just paid FIVE LARGE for it, thanks. But those are only money issues, really, and being out of pain will be worth every. last. red. cent. So I'll get over it. My credit card company might not, but I will, I assure you.

From all reports, following the surgery, I'll be spry and ready to promote in no time at all. So wipe away those fretful tears, little one, I'll be just. fine. Shhhh, shhhhh. It's OK. I promise. However, if something does go dreadfully wrong (Lord Vishnu forbid), be sure to ship my bones back to India to lie with my grandmother's. Thank you, please.