Cyborgs don't feel pain. I do. Don't do that again

Three sleeps until I become a cyborg. I was going for the bionic woman angle but I just can't pull off the Jaime Summers hair toss.

Yep, on Wednesday my malformed acetabulum and femur head will be relieved of their duties. I will join the score of old age pensioners who haven't looked back since they had theirs done (probably taking those hip protecting precautions a little too far).

Thanks to the gift of MS I already have all the cool toys - toilet frame, shower chair (two because the OT who won't even consider recommending me for assistance towards a stairlift felt I needed a twisting one), sock puller and grab stick. Oh and my sexy crutches. Yep our beautiful new bathroom in no way resembles the communal bathroom at a rehab unit.

Just to make life interesting I've been given no information on preparation but good ol Google has helped there. Hence I now resemble a nervous marathoner days before a race. Woe betide anyone who has a cold who dares enter my air space. I will resemble a Sasquatch because you can't have any cuts or grazes on your legs from shaving. My wisdom teeth have decided now would be a good time to begin their annual pilgrimage along my jaw. Hopefully they will be on the return journey by Wednesday.

I have a bunch of attractive elastic waisted pants to wear. I think the slip on shoes will be such a fashion statement teamed up with them.

I'm hoping to be a really good patient and excel at my lessons so I can be released at the earliest possible point in time but it all depends on the MonSter. It may not like the blood loss, fiddling around with major limbs, bear hug rugs or simply being somewhere else. I don't like hospitals. I'm hoping this being a private facility it won't have the call bells which I always feel the need to answer hence never sleeping properly.

When I come home I'm pretty much confined to barracks for some time since I can't drive and can't walk up the driveway. Pity I can't use the time to do some painting or floor board laying. It'll have to be the Living channel and rewatching Buffy for the fifth time. I love Buffy.

So I'm a sittin and a waitin and trying to be positive. I'm not convinced by the promises of no more pain cos duh I have MS but it should be nicer pain than the bone grating hip popping stuff I've got now.

Now I just have to figure out how I can convince them to let me out in time for me to go to Armaghedan dressed as Oracle cos sometimes must never be missed.


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