Random Thoughts From A Surgery-Bound Girl
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*feels kinship with her*

I go in for surgery in less than 12 hours.

Fortunately, my anesthesiologistiarianoid or whatever the hell she is, is cool.

I get valium when I first arrive, and numbing cream on my hand where the IV goes in. Then they pump me full of more tranquilizers. THEN, after a delay where I get to enjoy the high, they take me in and knock me unconscious, and only THEN do they get down to the nasty stuff.

Is cool, yes?

Other than the part where I have to do it all with a suppository stuck up my arse for nausia. *wry grin*

A friend of mine is considering suicide.

I am VERY very very tired of people announcing intentions of this sort to me, it irritates me more than anything else, generally... except he honestly seems to be CONSIDERING it, not threatening it or whining about it or pouting about it or bitching about it or lording it over me or using it to maninipulate me... so I gave him an honest answer:

I told him that I had promised not to tell people NOT to kill themselves, but that I would miss him a lot and be very upset if he were dead. *shrug*

I won't tell him not to die.

If he honestly wants to, how do I know it's not for the best?

And if he does NOT want to, if it really IS just a stupid play for attention, then he's better off dead. *wry grin*

I get tired of people deciding to tug on my heartstrings with big huge metal gauntlets and sharp knives.

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