Is Love the Exception

You will be pleased to hear Siobhan is healing at a prodigious rate. In fact, the process began almost as soon as she came out of anesthesia.

Siobhan: Will you PLEASE get that fucking IV out of my hand?
Technician: Ma'am! There's no need to swear!
Siobhan: No time like the goddam present!

It's one of the hot philosophical debates of our time: if a patient swears in the recovery room, does anyone hear? That's a trick question, because nurses know emotional distress is normal and ignore it. Develop a fixation on that IV needle, though, and you can leave 'em rolling in the aisles. And speaking of rolling, yesterday, Siobhan reported watching The Aristocrats. Mr. DBK loves this movie and mentions it all the time, but Siobhan saved it for a rainy day. Yesterday, it poured outside, so Siobhan poured herself a cup of tea and reclined glamorously to watch.

Tata: Are you out of your mind? Didn't you have surgery twice last week and isn't it true you cannot yet bend yourself to form a right angle?
Siobhan: I can't bend over, yes.
Tata: And aren't you on piles of painkillers?
Siobhan: Piles, yes.
Tata: And you're struggling to ingest calories because the treatments make it difficult to slurp?
Siobhan: ....bored now...
Tata: Why on earth did you watch an utterly foul-mouthed comedy that made you laugh so hard you're still moaning, "Ow ow fucking ow..."?
Siobhan: Professional courtesy?

We're lucky. We live in a time when advanced humor delivery systems can kill and cure, which reminds me: Daria and I are going back to Virginia this weekend. Batten down the hatches! We're having a garage sale of Dad's stuff. Expect only the finest in grief-stricken hilarity, and a road trip starting Friday.

Who wants to catsit?