I had what I hope is the last of my hand and arm surgeries on Wednesday, and am writing this post one handed. I think you might remember previous one handed adventures, like this:
Being one handed means that while the shenanigans don’t stop, they do rely on drivers and photographers.
This is where mail order catalogues come in.
My beloved got this bizarre catalogue in the post this week. I flicked through the pages, steadily becoming more and more impressed. While each item was very impressive, I struggled to establish the demographic that the items were targeted at. There were clip-on adult bibs, hearing aids (one size fits all), things to help you put on your socks and personal massage devices.
Personal massage devices.
The item claims to ease tension and reduce stress. Relaxing tired, aching muscles. Sounds pretty good, right?
It was when I saw that the device penetrated deep with soothing vibrations that I began to have my doubts.
The picture confirmed my suspicions.
She looks like the tension is just falling away, doesn’t she.
Now, look. I know that my brain can be a naughty place. This is why I write this blog. It’s no secret that I tend to see things for their ability to be morphed into something rude, but is it just me? Or is she rubbing a vibrator up against her neck?
It’s a sex toy, right?
This is actually a good thing I think. I know a few people who would do well with a delivery of a personal massage device such as this. It would surely be the polite way to tell them to get fucked.
Anyway anyway, this is just a brief post-op post to day hi. I’ve again come to the conclusion that my beloved is a total champion. She takes good care of me, even when she’s not with me (the three dogs, bouncy suspension in the car and the need for space mean I’m at my home). She respects that I need to sleep to recover. She respects me, and in a world where I sometimes feel like personal massage devices are chasing me, this is a refreshing thing.
It’s been a rough couple of years. Five surgeries. Two years of no guitar or drumming. Two years where I had no idea if I’d ever be able to do these things again.
I guess that is why this last surgery has left me feeling really drained and emotional. It’s almost over. So close! So close to finding out if I can go back to the things I loved. So close to being able to throw myself into music. So close to bawling my head off as just right now, things are still really hard.
Or it could be that I’m just fucking tired and need to buy a personal massage device and relax myself off to sleep…