The World Is A Wonderful Place. Look...... (edited version ..... don't look?)

I have been trying for three days now to post a picture of the most amazing thing I have seen in a while.  I cannot understand why the picture will not post???  It's making me truly crazy because everyone should be able to see the progress of man (or woman) kind.  Since the picture is eluding my every effort to post I will explain here:

I was at a restaurant last week and, after careful consideration, decided to use the ladies room (not a decision that is taken lightly.  In some cases I spend at least a half an hour trying to decide if the germ infusion is worth the busted up bladder.  In this case, a couple  few beers had been consumed so it was a necessary trip.)  I did the business that was duly required in order to have another beer and realized with glee that I did NOT have to fight the toilet paper holder!  The required paper was unleashing itself in a manner of which did not include me piecing together bits and drabs as is the usual procedure.  So I grabbed my phone and took a picture (no, there was no one else in the washroom wondering what the hell I was taking a picture of! That would have been embarrassing - for me anyway.  Young people apparently take pictures of themselves anywhere, any time!  Gross!)  If I can get the damn site to cooperate I will share the photo with you.  For now please feel free to use your beautiful imagination and imagine a world without ripping single ply bits all while performing a circus act of "hover, hold the purse".

Just an observation...

Now that the stress of having to have and then actually having surgery is over I am here to report my findings.   Let me first start by saying that surgery sucks!  Any kind of surgery.  I have no idea why in the heck someone would actually volunteer to have any kind of surgical procedure done (for some reason I keep thinking about people who have butt implants done because WHAT?).  So Butt Implant people happily submit themselves to being poked and prodded by strangers, drugged up (jury out on how bad that one is though), cut up and I am assuming beat up (while under) and subjected to whims and whimsy of whether or not the nurse of the moment had her coffee or stubbed her toe getting out of bed in the morning.  I was, for some crazy, unexplained reason, super concerned that my surgeon NOT have a hangover that day.  Honestly, I don't even know if the woman drinks and I certainly did not want to ask her how her night was the night before so I just requested copious amounts of Ativan to help me not worry about this and the three million other things that could have gone wrong.  It truly is a situation where you have absolutely no control over what happens to you (and I found that sometimes no matter how nice and not a bother you might be, some nurses are just overworked bitches and should consider working in the lab and leaving the patients alone!).  Within six minutes of coming to some kind of level of consciousness in post op recovery I absolutely changed my mind (not that I had a choice on the surgery but oh how I wish I did!)  Yes, I realize that was way to late to go back but holy hannah that was not an experience I would line up to do willingly again.  At least I could comfortably sit down afterwards, that poor elective surgery butt implant crazy person obviously could not sit (I am of course surmising at this.  I truly have no idea of the post op recovery of butt implants - or any implants at all.  Who would willingly want scars as well?  I just don't know.)  Well, four weeks in and the truck that hit me has moved from Mack Truck (with a tandem axel trailer) to a Toyota 4X4 (lifted and covered in dirt for those visual readers) soooo progress no?  (Side bar: I never did work up the nerve to ask my surgeon to take a bit of extra fat from a few areas.  My sense of humor went right out the window and all I could think about was 1. Not dying and 2. How bad my hair was going to look after the surgery.  Both turned out pretty good!)