This Week, Down Moanery Lane... Some Surgery is Just Selfish

In which I co-opt someone else's pain and make it my own

photo by Greg Rosenke on Unsplash

Brandin, my husband, love of my life, my best friend and the nicest person I know, about whom I never like to complain (unless it’s on the podcast Patreon, my personal safe space to which I know neither my husband nor my mother has bothered paying for access) had hernia surgery earlier this week.

I mean, quite aside from the sheer audacity of him, getting a hernia in the first place — nothing and no one will ever convince me that he didn’t do this to himself at the gym, a hobby he has selfishly maintained despite us having three children at home and lots of home improvement projects that we have yet to get to (yes, I’m talking about the shutter again) — figuring it out approximately eight weeks before our baby is due, and then scheduling the surgery for exactly four weeks before I go in for my abdominal surgery, he then, from his hospital bed, had the sheer cojones to utter the words, “I mean, I’ve basically had a C-section too now, I can tell you all about what to expect”.

Granted, he was high on ketamine at the time and slurring his words terribly while trying (and failing) to shovel apple sauce into his face, but STILL, you know what they say about the things you say while under the influence of ketamine! They are things you’ve thought while not under the influence of ketamine, but the ketamine lifts the veil of tact or self-preservation or whatever it is that would ordinarily give you… pause, at the very least, before saying something quite so deeply stupid.