Chocolate Milkshake with Fries

No babies ever!  EVER!  Unless I adopt one.  No babies from me!  Ever!  Unless I have someone implant a fertilized egg in me.  That sounds so dismaying.  I'm going to keep concentrating on the fact that I cannot conceive a little parasitic being within myself.  My womb will remain barren. 

My stomach was a bit swollen yesterday, and today it is a bit bloaty but almost normal.  All that stress about looking pregnant and having stretch marks was for not.  The incisions do hurt, but as long as I can keep Mattress from jumping on me, I'm pretty good (except when The Boy actually poked at one--instead of using his eyes, he used his finger, and that was just rude). 

My ribs feel cracked, and my sternum creaks when I breathe.  It's all that gas they pumped in me.  I'm having these amazing farts that are just air.  Breezy farts!  Not stinky at all (unlike what The Boy just unleashed a bit ago).  My throat hurts from the breathing tube, and my urethra hurts due to the catheter THAT NO ONE TOLD ME I WOULD HAVE!  Nor did anyone tell that I would see a ton of blood when I went to the bathroom.  Since I was so drugged, I didn't really freak out, but damn was I confused.  I wasn't on the rag before I went in here, so what gives?  Basically, all the internal bleeding from the surgery was in my uterus and it was finding its only way out that was available to it.  Obviously!  Why didn't I just use my brain and think about that?  Probably because I was too busy trying to stay awake and not start babbling about my nipples again. 

The Boy videotaped me.  He has proof.  I will share the convo at another time, but I refuse to post the video.  The lighting is horrible.  I can't stop rubbing my nose.  It's just not a pretty sight.

Seems when I came to I had one of those oxygen tubes in my nose, and I didn't like it.  The Boy reports that I said it was annoying, and then I pushed it  up on my head, and wore it like a headband until someone came and removed it.  There is no evidence of this.  But it sounds vaguely familiar.

Recovery food was a chocolate milkshake with fries.  The Boy certainly knows how to treat a girl just right.