Goggy and Surgery Update

While my husband and son were galavanting about in Toronto, the pooky-faced goggy Ginger was sold to another family. I had disconcerting flashbacks to a year ago when we bid on a house we had fallen in love only to lose it to a family of vultures. (I don't think vultures should get mortgage approval, either.) It feels like a kick in the gut, or that might be my gallstones, I don't know, but I'm a little sad because I was falling in love with the idea of having that adorable spaniel around.

I appreciate the advice from those of you who have experience as goggy-owners. Thank you Julie and Laura! I appreciate your honesty and your different points of view. We will continue to be on the lookout for a goggy in need of a loving home who is young, already housebroken, great with kids, and who doesn't shed too much. Because my specifications are so... specific... the chance of this happening anytime soon is slim to unlikely. Everyone party needs a pooper that's why my family has me. The pooper who hates poop.

I have other things on my plate anyway. Like twins in their terrible twos, writing projects, t-ball practices, and the removal of my gallbladder tomorrow at 11.30am. Ohhhh, I could've taken the goggy to t-ball practice.

About my surgery....

I was under what I now see is a ridiculous impression that the surgeon would be cutting my gallbladder up with a laser and then sucking it out with a vacuum-like apparatus through an incision in my abdomen. I may have gotten this idea from a dream I had, I'm not sure. However, there will no lasers in this laparoscopic procedure; the gallbladder is actually flattened until it is small enough to squeeze through the above-mentioned incision. I don't believe any suckage is involved either, which I am actually a little bummed about, because I had been planning to give my doc the go-ahead to suck out any fat in that general vicinity so I could stop doing so many crunches.

I have anxiety about this whole procedure, which I know is normal. I've never had anesthesia before, not even when I had all four of my wisdom teeth out at once. Just novocaine. To save money. I was very, very brave. If I could go back, I would not do it that way again.

My greatest anxiety is so freaking ridiculous I shouldn't even write it down. I don't like the idea of people working on me while I'm asleep. I'd much rather be awake, listening to some music. I think sleeping is private business, like binging on ice cream or looking at soap-opera magazines. I don't want people watching me while I sleep! That's weird! I certainly don't want people fooling around with my internal organs while I'm sleeping!

I end this post with a conversation I had with Ben about my surgery.

Me: Honey, tomorrow mommy's not going to be at home because she has to go to the doctor. Miss Janet is going to come stay with you while the doctor fixes my... why are you laughing?

Ben: I'm so happy!

Me: Why are you so happy?

Ben: Miss Janet is coming to play with me!

Me: Ben, focus. I need to tell you what's going on. Tomorrow, mommy is going into the hospital and the doctor is going to fix me so my tummy doesn't hurt anymore. I'll come home later and... why are you laughing?

Ben, with glee: I just can't wait for Miss Janet to come!

Me: Oh for the love of God. I'll have Miss Janet explain it to you tomorrow.