I am home, and I am safe.

No Critical Decisions Today. And no Mobic for a week. Those are my marching orders. LittleBit very kindly picked up a Twix for me last night, and I’ve inhaled three-fourths of it already. Leslye and I went to Jack in the Box for breakfast, and I’ve had a Breakfast Jack, hash brown sticks, and orange juice that tore up my throat like crazy but was so worth it. I am on my first mug of milk, and there’s still room at the inn, Mary.

LittleBit is picking up a $5 pizza for me from Little Caesar, before she goes to school. [TAKS tests today; she doesn’t have to be there until noon.]

So the next decision is: a two-hour nap, or one that lasts all afternoon?

I am going to have to pick out a couple of rows on Middlest’s French Sock, as I made a spectacularly silly mistake while communing with the porcelain diety last night. That can wait until after my nap.

They found/didn’t find polyps [only one; I don’t have to go back for five years, woohoo!], the map to the lost treasure of the Incas/keys to Sean Connery’s heart, and the answer to the musical question, What is the sound of one hand clapping?

I did/did not swear like a sailor while under anesthesia. Leslye, the friend who drove me there and home, is disappointed/still giggling.

My anesthesiologist was a nice middle-aged man with silver hair and a neatly trimmed beard. I would have drooled, except that I hadn’t had anything to drink since before midnight. Ergo, no spit.

How hungry was I? So hungry that this made me hungrier! I kept wondering what they’d put on the window to keep him that busy. Yeah, I’m not a dog person; I don’t know what’s normal and what’s not. And you’ll note that I automatically assumed it was a male dog. Remind me to get my consciousness lifted, once I re-establish the correct chocolate/oxygen mix in my own personal carburetor.

But first, I am rounding up volunteers for the Tush Kazoo band. I do believe that I will master The Flight of the Bumblebee before I get rid of all the air they pumped into me. [Yeah, I’m still a little loopy; why do you ask?]

And oh, by the way, the Book of Mormon is still true.