Frankentitty

Once again I didn't want to cook so we pick up Popeye's. Somewhere in a conversation I'm talking about how the boob will look after surgery and telling Tad most likely I'm going to freak the fuck out all over again. So he says "frankentitty" or it may have been boobie, but it was funny.

I know it won't be funny this time next week, and I'm stressing about seeing myself for the first time. I imagine I'll go into shock again and it may last for a while. Lots of crying and not to mention it'll be painful. I hope I get really good pain meds and if the fucking insurance will cave on the Lexapro I can start taking them and it'll start to work before surgery.

This is going to be hard shit but as everything else in life it will get better. I have to keep strong and do what I can to be healthy. I can do Popeye's every so often too if I want.

I ought to call the insurance company myself and tell them what is happening and they can hear me cry about this shit. I'm not going to waste my energy on that being as insurance company's primary interest is to do as little as possible, so if a certain med cost THEM a lot to cover they refuse even though you badly need it.

It's 2p and I'm still in my pajamas and haven't brushed my teeth yet so I need to get cracking.