For this last round of tests, I had to lie bare bottom up. And as I was lying there, waiting for them to aspirate me, Rick Astley’s “Never Gonna Give You Up” came on the radio. It’s true, I got rickrolled.

I laughed out loud in the operating room, which surprised the surgical assistant.  It also got me a shot of dilaudid to add to my xanax and morphine.  I’m not complaining.

In fact, I’m very appreciative that I’ve found humor through all of this.  I do believe laughter is the best medicine.

You know what isn’t the best medicine?  Metronidazole. That stuff is just downright nasty. The taste on your tongue could drive you to drink, but you can’t drink because it can have a disulfiram reaction aka alcohol will make you feel like you are going to die.

I was glad to see the bottom of that pill bottle, let me tell you.  Not only does it mean no more nasty nasty, it also means I might finally be recovered.  I’ll know for sure next week, after my third CT Scan. Hopefully, it will show no more post-operative complications, and allow me to get back to work.

Work would be welcome right now. I’ve been cleared to work from home for 20 hours a week.  Fortunately, my short-term disability will pick up the other 20 hours. Short-term disability is a wonderful thing, and I’m thankful for it.  But the transition from my regular paycheck to partial pay has been rough – especially since I had budgeted to be out of work for only 2 weeks, and I’m on my sixth week now.  The decreased pay and the increased co-pays and prescriptions has made things a tight squeeze.  I’ve come to my bottom dollar in more ways than one.

Yet, I’m still here.  Friends, family, unexpected windfalls, generosity and kindness has abounded beyond measure. And joy, happiness, giddiness and glee.  Legos.  Legos are awesome.  Legos that make lego people fly through the air?  More awesome.

You gotta laugh.  What’s the alternative?  Never gonna give you up, never gonna let you down.  Bottom’s Up, world.