Painful Memories

I suspect I should start this off with, "REMEMBER ME?" I know I haven't been around for a while. So Why?

Tomorrow will be the three week anniversary of some MINOR surgery?  And today is the first day in that period of time I can't remember the PAIN of the day before.  I don't like whining and unwarranted mystery, but there has been nothing deceitful about my reticence to be more forthcoming about this event.

However, enough of you have been healthily and persistently curious,  I feel obligated to at least "tap dance" around the issue.

First of all if you look at my self portrait up there you might be able to imagine the PAIN! (We'll talk more about the portrait later.)

Second, and most important, the surgery involved a region of the anatomy we are seldom comfortable including in polite conversation.  (Just let me EMPHASIZE how IMPORTANT it is, AS YOU AGE,  to EAT PLENTY OF FRUIT AND VEGETABLES, and if your doctor suggests you take METAMUCIL twice a day? DO IT!)

I trust that is enough information to help you accurately speculate your way to answering the mystery.  I will only add that there are not enough pills on the planet to make me believe this three week long bucket of pain is worth all those years of self neglect.

 

Now there is one other reason I've not been forthcoming. 

I believe one of the great sins of electronic journalism is the casual anchor phrase, "As you'll remember from our story about bats last week."

COME ON! Nobody but other news room employees and family members recall any week old "bat" stories.

So I didn't want to tie this event to a couple of previous postings in which I rambled on about pain. And I'm not going to rehash the detail for you here, and now! 

BUT WAIT! And I share this curiosity with you. Talking about my pain in those postings? All of a sudden I became an expert on the subject of pain with a GOOGLE  search. 

(It will be interesting to see if this story has the same end.)

Oh yeah, the portrait.  As you'll recall from my posting in January, 2008, (joke) I'm building up a mass of angst over the unsolicited arrival of mailing stickers to my home. They are coming from non-profits across political, religious, and special cause spectrums.

All of them work in their little guilt messages about you sitting there with these wonderful sticker gifts, while their cash coffers are suffering  certain demise. 

Well, I didn't bite. All those little stickers? That's a whole bunch of them up there making up that self portrait. 

(I blurred the portrait a bit so you won't be tempted to steal my identity.)

So anyway, I'm back. Let's talk about something else next time.