Keystone Moments, or "Shatter Points"

Starting a blog is rarely considered a defining moment in ones life, and in this case, it certainly isn't.

However, what has has caused me to embark on this endeavor is slightly more important: I just had surgery for the first time ever.

The surgery itself, a tonsillectomy, was fairly minor. My major stress at the outset was the necessity of being anaesthetised, not even the unconscious vulnerability of it all, simply that I would need to have a tap inserted into my veins, enter trypanophobia.

To my absolute shock, I coasted through it, more than likely due to my anaesthetist being a hot blonde. Sometimes I'm just a regular guy, who knew?
Roughly ten seconds later (by my conscious continuum), I was coming to with a searing pain in my throat, and the horrifying suspicion that I had been violated by an elephant.

The surgery went fine, it turns out my tonsils were massive, and so I now had huge, painful, cauterised wounds where they had been.

The pain was intense, and I'm generally a whiney bitch, and so the next player enters the stage.

Act 2: Morphine

I hate needles. Hate, hate hate needles. But now I can honestly say I have a glimmer of understanding for heroin addiction. The feeling of not knowing where you are, what's happening, when it's happening, or why it's happening, and honestly not caring in the slightest, at all, because you can hover...seriously. Go forth and aquire a serious injury, it's worth it.

My Parents turned up, I don't really remember seeing them.

Then came the wellwishing friends. I say wellwishing, but I don't pretend to understand what motivates either of them (them being Blackett and Erminia), probably tits and....tits.

I got a whole host of gifts, and promises of servitude during my recovery, then I was told I look like shit by Blackett, and the same thing but ever-so-slightly more concerned and politely by Minn. To their credit, I did, a lot.

Then I spent the worst night of my life alone in hospital, in undiluted agony, pouring blood into a tube and sweating like I'd intruded on Scarlett Johansson doing her laundry. I never want surgery again.

Anyway, now I'm at home, and will be for half a month, so a blog has been started (partly inspired by Luke, so WOOPS to him and all that jazz)

I'm going to do my best to actually maintain it, and chronicle my recovery, and life etc.

So, wish me luck, and for the love of God, somebody read it please.