When I get bored with the shiny things I buy, I like to sell them on eBay. I heard recently that there's going to be a new policy in effect come 2011 that sales totalling over $20,000 with over 200 transactions will be reported to the IRS. I really don't understand that since all the shit I have sitting around that I bought for fun is probably worth twice that if I sold all of it. And the crappy part is it cost me more than that to get it over quite a long period of time.
I guess what it means is I need to clear it all out before 2011 because I don't need the IRS taxing me again for stuff I already own, or at least trying to, anyway. Were I making a profit, I could understand it, but selling my garbage is merely damage control and loss mitigation on my part. Fortunately, I'm able to keep my losses rather minimal. All my gains are of the intellectual variety. If those are ever able to be taxed, I'll be screwed but Bubba Funderburk and his sistercousinwife, Tanqueray, will hoot and holler in triumph.
Maybe one day I'll have my own business going, but I would need like ten times the volume and a little thing called profit for that to happen. It irritates me to see people on those infomercials talking about how they "did $500,000 in sales last year" without going into detail about profit.
I'm sick of posers mentioning gross sales as their profit. When you see some unshaven fuck in dirty old clothes claiming to have made $200,000 in the past year he needs a crowbar to the grille.
Saturday, May 30, 2009
Tuesday, May 19, 2009
You Can Learn A Lot From The Past
Case-in-point, the "Where Are They Now"s.
Eight years ago I met this girl whose mean trick totally backfired on her. She created a fake profile at some long-gone dating site just to mess with people. Well, to make a long story short, she falls in love with me and then has to come clean, saying she'll tell everyone how wonderful I am if I'll love her despite that pretty much being the worst I've ever been lied to in my life before or since.
I told her to beat it and she got all pissy saying I wouldn't love her for what was on the inside. That crutch of a line again... nothing good ever comes after that card's been played. Usually, it's a land-whale playing the card and playing the victim. This was one of those times, much to my dismay. I'll be honest, I was allowing this relationship to spark at long distance thinking I was getting involved with a cute, punky black-haired living-ball-of-energy chix0r who was an inch taller than me, aspired to work in a technical field, needed an escape from Pocatello, Idaho, was turning 18 in a few months and smiled all the time. And she liked me. Schweet! Even better, she was a Linkin Park fan without being all depressed and shit, unlike, for example, the mejority of Nirvana fans I've met.
What I got was not as advertised in any way. She was 16, four inches shorter, dark blonde hair, obviously never smiled, merely "liked computers" as opposed to being a code-poetess with a knack for databases, 180 pounds, and created the profile with malicious intent from the get-go. And all of that topped off with a voice deeper than mine. Wow, what a catch, right?
My heart was broken. It was bad enough she came clean in a letter in the mail, but to get a phone call not a minute after my mom handed me the letter and have to get a taste of the shit about to hit the fan made me want to cry out of frustration, anger and just plain having my heart broken. I remember it like it was minutes ago. She introduces herself and I hear the deep voice. Trying to be nice, I say "Wow, you _sound_ six feet tall." in my cheerful tone and not even regretting it the moment I realized what had happened, only moments before my heart broke and all my plans came to a shitty halt.
Well, to make a long story short, in the aftermath I got an attention-whoring mass-email some time later with her saying how she almost killed herself and feels like nobody likes her and all the usual garbage. As much as I have always held women in high esteem (sugar and spice, you know), my first thought was "try harder next time". It's really hard to make someone as happy-go-lucky as I was back then come to view someone as little more than the water and carbon from which the overwhelming majority of their living body is made--but she managed to do exactly that.
Well, some time later, as I'm working on the computer I was using during that whole thing, up pops an AOL IM window with her at the other end. I play nice because I'm really tired. Didn't last long. She sends me a JPEG and I'm detecting some pride in how she's chatting. I'm thinking it's one of those "I look good now" things, having had such an experience a year before.
Well, while the girl I crossed paths with had lost at least fifty pounds and looked freaking cute as hell, this was not the case with the liar. She was frowning, yet again, and had maybe lost a couple of pound recently after putting on another thirty since the photo she gave me when the cat was let out of the bag was taken.
She asks me if I think she looks better. I respond, "No, if anything you look worse. Would it kill you to smile?" And of course she blames me for making her feel bad. Insensitive as hell on my part, maybe, no, fuck that, yes, very and I'm glad. Old wounds don't like to be picked open, much less so with a rusty fishhook. It didn't help that my job (not the one I had when I met her. I got screwed out of that when being twisted became terrorism post 9-11) was turning me into an alcoholic at the time. I got plastered as hell that night.
It's always best to face down your issues in order to learn from them. I've been ready for years to post-process that whole debacle and see what is to be gained from it, just never really found myself that bored until I was stuck with two weeks of recovery from surgery and having my memory jogged by testing my old IM accounts and such told me it was a good time. And she had a unique enough name to make a Google search sound promising.
While I harbor resentment and ill-will toward her because I'm sure I'm not the only one she's treated like this, I'm not going to reveal her name here to save headaches. She'll know who she is and I doubt she'll ever read this. I'm not writing it for her.
A Google search turned up her Myspace blog and her entire Myspace page merely a click after that. I'd never forget the name and I'd never forget that soulless face no matter how hard I try. She's of the group of people I half-jokingly refer to as Pumpkins. He face carries the shape and expression characteristics of a typical Jack-O-Lantern, with the lack of a neck being the most garish characteristic.
A look at her blog page showed there was an aftershock to this quake, namely, her age. I did the math when it didn't look right. Uh oh, she was non only not almost 18, she wasn't 16, either. She was barely 15 when we "met" (never did meet face to face).
Her blog went back three years. That's quite a window into a person's soul.
There's poetry on the page. She's not a bad poet, but knowing what extra I do makes bullshit real easy to spot.
Here we have it, dishing about school, growing up, moving out, work, relationships and then the excuses and anger start flying with "let's just be friends" as the catalyst. She alienates her entire target audience in one fell-swoop just because she somehow thinks not being a Size Zero is worse than being a depressed basket-case who probably sucks every ounce of happinesss out of the room upon entry. And no eyes look good without a smile.
"Let's just be friends" means get your shit together and we'll talk. Until then, I'm waiting in the wings. If you follow that with what she did, it's your own damn fault. What gets me is she thinks a boob job is going to fix her problems, but is too self-righteous to consider it. She needs to move that evaluation up a foot or four to her head.
Almost a year later she posts lamenting about some fling with a guy who was drunk and searching for a place to park his Peter Griffin, throwing in that she swings both ways, which, she implies, goes without saying. News to me. Reminds me, fishing seasons starts soon. I'm seeing a pattern. She's banging the guy for half the week, flips out on him, blames it on depression and then wonders why he doesn't show back up. I feel bad for the dude. He didn't know what he was getting into.
And again with more of the excuses about how he doesn't like her because she's intimidating him sexually and isn't a skinny supermodel. I bet his actual words were "fat and scary".
She goes on to complain about how guys can't just like her for who she is. Yeah, I've experienced that first-hand and it's very self-explanatory. She talks about how she must be okay because she's okay enough to bone, overlooking the fact the guy wasn't sober once during their brief relationship. Then she complains about mind games. Oh the irony. Karma's a bitch.
She concludes that entry with an open "screw you" to all men. Well, at least she can still munch rug, but I'm sure the Blood Alcohol Content is really no different.
Things get deeper later. She talks about suicidal thoughts and claims she's never been suicidal. Either she's lying about that or she's lying about this being any different from any other time she's almost killed herself.
Another post and she's talking about loving someone with all her hear and then, in the same run-on sentence, bashes him. "Let's Just Be Friends!" again... maybe he's waiting for her to drop a couple hundred pounds in hopes her hormones won't still be all fucked up afterward?
Another post she's talking about attracting perverts. Hate to break it to her, but when a guy worships the ground you walk on solely because of a biological problem you possess, that's a perversion. The FA type aren't too fringe to have their own CSI episode, but Feeders are and that fetish is basically torture and murder with different packaging.
Another post and she's trying to convince herself she's a great person... just keep telling yourself that.
New years mean new goals and she's got some. I hope it works. I only require seven years bad luck.
Next post she's playing What if games. Those are never a useful way to spend time when they are about the past.
Interesting she keeps mentioning Oregon. That was where I wanted to eventually move to when I thought she was the punky cute girl in the photos she provided. Don't know if I ever mentioned that to her, though. Why would that be a sticking point anyway? Oregon isn't all that special. If you want special, there's Washington.
Moving on, it seems she's doing what I did once, allowing feelings for a member of the opposite sex influence faith. And she's treating this like it's her last chance at love and already planning life out. Oh I feel so bad for this guy.
... and like that she's a Jehovah's Witness. Better yeat, it sounds like they were made for each other.
This sounds like the ending to an absurdist parody story. However, if there's one thing I've learned about JWs, it's that becoming one is merely the beginning. Oh boy howdy is it ever! I think the rest would pretty much write itself, but it's kind of boringand I'm out of monkeys and typewriters. They went Union on me.
Eight years ago I met this girl whose mean trick totally backfired on her. She created a fake profile at some long-gone dating site just to mess with people. Well, to make a long story short, she falls in love with me and then has to come clean, saying she'll tell everyone how wonderful I am if I'll love her despite that pretty much being the worst I've ever been lied to in my life before or since.
I told her to beat it and she got all pissy saying I wouldn't love her for what was on the inside. That crutch of a line again... nothing good ever comes after that card's been played. Usually, it's a land-whale playing the card and playing the victim. This was one of those times, much to my dismay. I'll be honest, I was allowing this relationship to spark at long distance thinking I was getting involved with a cute, punky black-haired living-ball-of-energy chix0r who was an inch taller than me, aspired to work in a technical field, needed an escape from Pocatello, Idaho, was turning 18 in a few months and smiled all the time. And she liked me. Schweet! Even better, she was a Linkin Park fan without being all depressed and shit, unlike, for example, the mejority of Nirvana fans I've met.
What I got was not as advertised in any way. She was 16, four inches shorter, dark blonde hair, obviously never smiled, merely "liked computers" as opposed to being a code-poetess with a knack for databases, 180 pounds, and created the profile with malicious intent from the get-go. And all of that topped off with a voice deeper than mine. Wow, what a catch, right?
My heart was broken. It was bad enough she came clean in a letter in the mail, but to get a phone call not a minute after my mom handed me the letter and have to get a taste of the shit about to hit the fan made me want to cry out of frustration, anger and just plain having my heart broken. I remember it like it was minutes ago. She introduces herself and I hear the deep voice. Trying to be nice, I say "Wow, you _sound_ six feet tall." in my cheerful tone and not even regretting it the moment I realized what had happened, only moments before my heart broke and all my plans came to a shitty halt.
Well, to make a long story short, in the aftermath I got an attention-whoring mass-email some time later with her saying how she almost killed herself and feels like nobody likes her and all the usual garbage. As much as I have always held women in high esteem (sugar and spice, you know), my first thought was "try harder next time". It's really hard to make someone as happy-go-lucky as I was back then come to view someone as little more than the water and carbon from which the overwhelming majority of their living body is made--but she managed to do exactly that.
Well, some time later, as I'm working on the computer I was using during that whole thing, up pops an AOL IM window with her at the other end. I play nice because I'm really tired. Didn't last long. She sends me a JPEG and I'm detecting some pride in how she's chatting. I'm thinking it's one of those "I look good now" things, having had such an experience a year before.
Well, while the girl I crossed paths with had lost at least fifty pounds and looked freaking cute as hell, this was not the case with the liar. She was frowning, yet again, and had maybe lost a couple of pound recently after putting on another thirty since the photo she gave me when the cat was let out of the bag was taken.
She asks me if I think she looks better. I respond, "No, if anything you look worse. Would it kill you to smile?" And of course she blames me for making her feel bad. Insensitive as hell on my part, maybe, no, fuck that, yes, very and I'm glad. Old wounds don't like to be picked open, much less so with a rusty fishhook. It didn't help that my job (not the one I had when I met her. I got screwed out of that when being twisted became terrorism post 9-11) was turning me into an alcoholic at the time. I got plastered as hell that night.
It's always best to face down your issues in order to learn from them. I've been ready for years to post-process that whole debacle and see what is to be gained from it, just never really found myself that bored until I was stuck with two weeks of recovery from surgery and having my memory jogged by testing my old IM accounts and such told me it was a good time. And she had a unique enough name to make a Google search sound promising.
While I harbor resentment and ill-will toward her because I'm sure I'm not the only one she's treated like this, I'm not going to reveal her name here to save headaches. She'll know who she is and I doubt she'll ever read this. I'm not writing it for her.
A Google search turned up her Myspace blog and her entire Myspace page merely a click after that. I'd never forget the name and I'd never forget that soulless face no matter how hard I try. She's of the group of people I half-jokingly refer to as Pumpkins. He face carries the shape and expression characteristics of a typical Jack-O-Lantern, with the lack of a neck being the most garish characteristic.
A look at her blog page showed there was an aftershock to this quake, namely, her age. I did the math when it didn't look right. Uh oh, she was non only not almost 18, she wasn't 16, either. She was barely 15 when we "met" (never did meet face to face).
Her blog went back three years. That's quite a window into a person's soul.
There's poetry on the page. She's not a bad poet, but knowing what extra I do makes bullshit real easy to spot.
Here we have it, dishing about school, growing up, moving out, work, relationships and then the excuses and anger start flying with "let's just be friends" as the catalyst. She alienates her entire target audience in one fell-swoop just because she somehow thinks not being a Size Zero is worse than being a depressed basket-case who probably sucks every ounce of happinesss out of the room upon entry. And no eyes look good without a smile.
"Let's just be friends" means get your shit together and we'll talk. Until then, I'm waiting in the wings. If you follow that with what she did, it's your own damn fault. What gets me is she thinks a boob job is going to fix her problems, but is too self-righteous to consider it. She needs to move that evaluation up a foot or four to her head.
Almost a year later she posts lamenting about some fling with a guy who was drunk and searching for a place to park his Peter Griffin, throwing in that she swings both ways, which, she implies, goes without saying. News to me. Reminds me, fishing seasons starts soon. I'm seeing a pattern. She's banging the guy for half the week, flips out on him, blames it on depression and then wonders why he doesn't show back up. I feel bad for the dude. He didn't know what he was getting into.
And again with more of the excuses about how he doesn't like her because she's intimidating him sexually and isn't a skinny supermodel. I bet his actual words were "fat and scary".
She goes on to complain about how guys can't just like her for who she is. Yeah, I've experienced that first-hand and it's very self-explanatory. She talks about how she must be okay because she's okay enough to bone, overlooking the fact the guy wasn't sober once during their brief relationship. Then she complains about mind games. Oh the irony. Karma's a bitch.
She concludes that entry with an open "screw you" to all men. Well, at least she can still munch rug, but I'm sure the Blood Alcohol Content is really no different.
Things get deeper later. She talks about suicidal thoughts and claims she's never been suicidal. Either she's lying about that or she's lying about this being any different from any other time she's almost killed herself.
Another post and she's talking about loving someone with all her hear and then, in the same run-on sentence, bashes him. "Let's Just Be Friends!" again... maybe he's waiting for her to drop a couple hundred pounds in hopes her hormones won't still be all fucked up afterward?
Another post she's talking about attracting perverts. Hate to break it to her, but when a guy worships the ground you walk on solely because of a biological problem you possess, that's a perversion. The FA type aren't too fringe to have their own CSI episode, but Feeders are and that fetish is basically torture and murder with different packaging.
Another post and she's trying to convince herself she's a great person... just keep telling yourself that.
New years mean new goals and she's got some. I hope it works. I only require seven years bad luck.
Next post she's playing What if games. Those are never a useful way to spend time when they are about the past.
Interesting she keeps mentioning Oregon. That was where I wanted to eventually move to when I thought she was the punky cute girl in the photos she provided. Don't know if I ever mentioned that to her, though. Why would that be a sticking point anyway? Oregon isn't all that special. If you want special, there's Washington.
Moving on, it seems she's doing what I did once, allowing feelings for a member of the opposite sex influence faith. And she's treating this like it's her last chance at love and already planning life out. Oh I feel so bad for this guy.
... and like that she's a Jehovah's Witness. Better yeat, it sounds like they were made for each other.
This sounds like the ending to an absurdist parody story. However, if there's one thing I've learned about JWs, it's that becoming one is merely the beginning. Oh boy howdy is it ever! I think the rest would pretty much write itself, but it's kind of boringand I'm out of monkeys and typewriters. They went Union on me.
Life is pain or something
I'm sidelined. Holy crap. I thought my scabs were started yesterday, but no such luck. The pain medicine basically does nothing and I'm running on two hours sleep. I can't even nap so I'm working on computers as usual.
I finished the laptop I have been working on for my Dad. I can say entirely without ego that it's the finest machine I've built. It will serve him well. It's not every day you can kill a clan of ninjas and check your email with the same device.
Right now, I have a PDF reader and the Maintenance manual for my Tecra M7 open on my C840's UXGA screen to figure out how to get it apart to do the thermal compound right the second time around (first time being the factory).
Well I'll be damned. No freaking thermal compound left on the dies of either the CPU or GPU to speak of. I'll fix this.
While I've got the system open, I'm going to get some data on the VRAM chips to see exactly what the hell they are rated for: SAMSUNG K4N56163QG-ZC2A
According to Samsung, themselves, the chips are GDDR2 and are rated for 350MHz. Really? I've had them running 418,5MHz. I got some serious creampuffs here. Each one is 512 megabits. Funny thing is it looks like I have four of them. That would be 256MB of VRAM, but I have 128MB. O RLY? I must delve deeper but not now.
I looked at the spot where my motherboard would have had the 3G MiniPCI-E slot and there was no card slot installed there, but the pads were present. That means I have another USB port available to me.
Interesting, another little discovery. I could replace the button panel to the left of my keyboard with the one from the Satellite R20 and have three more buttons if I were willing to tap directly into the wires. They'd normally control a CD, but I have no use for that. I'd like to have a button to activate a custom ThinkLight type device and one to activate the receiver for an Xbox controller installed inside the system. As for the third extra button, I don't know.
Now running Prime95 to seat the coolers and tune for undervolting. It is beyond gay that Intel decided to be dicks about undervolting. While I was able to take my Pentium M systems down far below the P-state 0 default voltage, the .95VDC of P-State 0 on my Core 2 Duo is the lowest selectable voltage. Dammit! What harm is there in a CPU lasting longer? I can understand not wanting people to overclock, but to artificially limit undervolting and the battery savings that comes with it? Stupid as hell, especially when I'm cranking away with no problems at 2GHz with .975V input.
I was glad to find out that the Tecra M7 really is built upside-down. While the motherboard is usually fastened to the bottom of the case, it's fastened to the top in this one. This is a good think because it means the crack in my case bottom can be remedied very easily. And I did check the composition of the case piece to find that it's AZ91D Magnesium alloy after all.
Friday, May 15, 2009
Obsession
I spent most of what little sleep time I had mentally working on the logic board for the sweet LCD monitor I picked up before my surgery. I'm convinced I can get it working again, but I'm unable to attempt it just yet because there's no way I can drive and there's no way I should be at the plant breathing fumes for any amount of time while remounting the chip I need to remount. I sure want to, though.
It all just sounds really appealing to me, fixing that panel and using it as my gaming monitor. I need a plan B just in case I can't get the logic board going, though. I don't have one yet.
It all just sounds really appealing to me, fixing that panel and using it as my gaming monitor. I need a plan B just in case I can't get the logic board going, though. I don't have one yet.
Thursday, May 14, 2009
Micronaps
I remember when I used to carry a polyphasic sleep schedule out of necessity. It's definitely different when the drugs you are taking leave you dozing off while sitting up. I don't like falling asleep when I have a computer in my lap. It's even more startling when I find myself waking up from a seamless dream where I've been typing away only to wake up to a screen full of "d"s. Anyone who would dare drive while taking Roxicet is a damn fool and should be jailed.
This almost feels like Benadryl. I remember when that stuff was the only antihistamine that would work for me and having to trade the use of my mind for not feeling like I was going to die. Thank God for Zyrtec and then generic as Cetirizine and then Sam's Club for selling 500 pills of the stuff for under $30. Since then, I've never fallen asleep with a soldering iron in my hand.
My 10AM Roxicet dose hit pretty quickly despite my having eaten over a cup of the leftover alfredo bowties.
I've started taking my Glutamine capsules again. While it isn't doctor-ordered, I figure that the help I get from such a supplement when I work out is about the same as the help I need for regrowing pretty much any body tissue, expecially when I am almost entirely unable to eat meat right now. I take five grams of that twice a day, but only the capsules. They have a better chance of reaching my intestines before being broken open.
In other news, I've been experimenting with machine virtualization. I knew that having a dual-core machine would allow me to run programs like DOS Box, but what I didn't expect was Virtual PC 2007. All I had to do was turn on Virtualization in the Tecra M7's BIOS, download and install the free app and I was able to get DOS 7.10 (I think that's what WinME runs on top of) to install with Rise of the Triad and Blood running okay with the music turned off.
I'm stoked that I'll be able to run old programs like Autodesk Animator if I feel like it. This project has made the Dell laptop I wished to retain for just such things obsolete. Now I can sell that off without even missing it. What would be really amazing is to have Windows 3.11 or Linux running under Virtual PC.
I'm upgrading this machine to the full 4GB RAM it will take. I don't care if most of that fourth gigabyte will be lost to the 32-bit quirk, at today's prices it just doesn't matter. Looks like I'll be able to see almost 3.5GB anyway and that's fine.
I've learned a lot so far and I've had about half a dozen micronaps while writing this post.
This almost feels like Benadryl. I remember when that stuff was the only antihistamine that would work for me and having to trade the use of my mind for not feeling like I was going to die. Thank God for Zyrtec and then generic as Cetirizine and then Sam's Club for selling 500 pills of the stuff for under $30. Since then, I've never fallen asleep with a soldering iron in my hand.
My 10AM Roxicet dose hit pretty quickly despite my having eaten over a cup of the leftover alfredo bowties.
I've started taking my Glutamine capsules again. While it isn't doctor-ordered, I figure that the help I get from such a supplement when I work out is about the same as the help I need for regrowing pretty much any body tissue, expecially when I am almost entirely unable to eat meat right now. I take five grams of that twice a day, but only the capsules. They have a better chance of reaching my intestines before being broken open.
In other news, I've been experimenting with machine virtualization. I knew that having a dual-core machine would allow me to run programs like DOS Box, but what I didn't expect was Virtual PC 2007. All I had to do was turn on Virtualization in the Tecra M7's BIOS, download and install the free app and I was able to get DOS 7.10 (I think that's what WinME runs on top of) to install with Rise of the Triad and Blood running okay with the music turned off.
I'm stoked that I'll be able to run old programs like Autodesk Animator if I feel like it. This project has made the Dell laptop I wished to retain for just such things obsolete. Now I can sell that off without even missing it. What would be really amazing is to have Windows 3.11 or Linux running under Virtual PC.
I'm upgrading this machine to the full 4GB RAM it will take. I don't care if most of that fourth gigabyte will be lost to the 32-bit quirk, at today's prices it just doesn't matter. Looks like I'll be able to see almost 3.5GB anyway and that's fine.
I've learned a lot so far and I've had about half a dozen micronaps while writing this post.
Two Days Later
I now know how important it is to stay ahead of the pain. I woke up half an hour after I should have taken another dose of Roxicet and was nearly whimpering I hurt so badly. My nose was clogged with blood so I had been breathing out of my mouth. It's a grand thing we had the humidifier because that's the only thing that kept me from having a tongue of cotton.
I don't know whether my scabs are starting to come off early or not, but I'm hoping it's just transient pain. I can deal with that. I don't want to end up bleeding from an artery.
I branched out a bit with my food intake, eating some bowtie pasta with Alfredo sauce my wife made for dinner. I ate that around 2AM when the noodles had softened a bit more. I ate it with some sea salt. I'm really big on sea salt for the reason that the salt has some anti-infective properties that cheap table salt doesn't have. Something about the ions. I don't remember what.
I don't know whether my scabs are starting to come off early or not, but I'm hoping it's just transient pain. I can deal with that. I don't want to end up bleeding from an artery.
I branched out a bit with my food intake, eating some bowtie pasta with Alfredo sauce my wife made for dinner. I ate that around 2AM when the noodles had softened a bit more. I ate it with some sea salt. I'm really big on sea salt for the reason that the salt has some anti-infective properties that cheap table salt doesn't have. Something about the ions. I don't remember what.
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
I'm Doing Science And I'm Still Alive
The moment I woke up, I was shaking uncontrollably. It had been explained to me that waking up from a hernia operation or orthopedic surgery was way different from what I was about to face. They used Diprivan to knock me out so I've had that stuff three times now. In addition, I was given Fentanyl. That made me loopy as hell and I was chatty in the OR before I got my Diprivan and was out like a light.
And oh holy hell did I hurt. Swallowing was terror and I was bleeding from my nose as they said I would. I remember having Strep real bad ten years back and that's what the pain where my tonsils used to be feels like. There was no way Lortab would be enough for this. I was relieved when I found out I was given Roxicet (liquid Oxycontin) for this. Even though that stuff did little more than knock me flat when I had my hernia surgery, it's been a blessing this trip.
While I did have my Vasectomy when I was under, there's no pain at all there so far. It's all in my throat.
My tonsils were sneaky. They were a lot bigger than they seemed and the surgeon commented on how full of infection the left one was. I have pictures, but I'll spare my readers the gory details.
I'm now seven hours post-op, I had to go easy on my water intake to prevent so many bathroom trips and the stress that goes with it. I've eaten applesauce and popsicles so far. I think I'll branch out a little bit later to something like mashed potatoes with sea salt.
Extra: It turns out the disc they gave me has videos on it, not just photos. Wow.
And oh holy hell did I hurt. Swallowing was terror and I was bleeding from my nose as they said I would. I remember having Strep real bad ten years back and that's what the pain where my tonsils used to be feels like. There was no way Lortab would be enough for this. I was relieved when I found out I was given Roxicet (liquid Oxycontin) for this. Even though that stuff did little more than knock me flat when I had my hernia surgery, it's been a blessing this trip.
While I did have my Vasectomy when I was under, there's no pain at all there so far. It's all in my throat.
My tonsils were sneaky. They were a lot bigger than they seemed and the surgeon commented on how full of infection the left one was. I have pictures, but I'll spare my readers the gory details.
I'm now seven hours post-op, I had to go easy on my water intake to prevent so many bathroom trips and the stress that goes with it. I've eaten applesauce and popsicles so far. I think I'll branch out a little bit later to something like mashed potatoes with sea salt.
Extra: It turns out the disc they gave me has videos on it, not just photos. Wow.
Monday, May 11, 2009
Going Under The Knife
It's time to play Human Pincushion with your host, Monkeyboy!
I get knocked out tomorrow morning for a total of four surgeries all in one shot. It's a QVC deal here, folks. It's not just a tonsillectomy! It's also a septoplasty! But wait there's more. Act now and receive sinus surgery and a vasectomy absolutely free*
*not really!
To follow: Two weeks of hell.
I get knocked out tomorrow morning for a total of four surgeries all in one shot. It's a QVC deal here, folks. It's not just a tonsillectomy! It's also a septoplasty! But wait there's more. Act now and receive sinus surgery and a vasectomy absolutely free*
*not really!
To follow: Two weeks of hell.
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