bum gut

the astute among you, dear readers, will have noticed something by now: if ever i don't blog for more than a single day, it means that i'm in the hospital. this isn't morbid or overly dramatic; it's just how it is. by the end of the second day, i have people (terry this time) calling me to ask if i'm back in the hospital. and, yes, i was. i was back in the stupid fucking hospital. same story: stomach pain, crohn's flare-up, 12 hours later it's gone with no surgery (not that i'm making light of the situation; it's a blessing beyond words that i've always escaped with no surgery).

so i'm on antibiotics. and i'm back at work, taking it easy today, because i couldn't stand the thought of sitting around another day. couldn't. stand. it. i had another roommate this time, a crazy old greek man the nurses called "papa" who literally screamed if you tried to touch him. my "doctor," a man i saw only once--when he discharged me--was named, i shit you not, constantine anagnostopoulous. he had eyebrows that were so big they tickled my face when he leaned over to listen to my belly.

so, i'm back. stomach's a little tender, pockets are a little emptier (two hospital stays in two months will do that to a person), but i have every inch of my gut, still. so there's a bright side.