zenexistence

So, I got the results of the ultrasound on my right lower quadrant.
My liver is fine. My gallbladder is fine, although it has a minute amount of "sludge" in it.
Sludge.
Really?
I've never heard such an odd medical term but "sludge" it indeed has.
Apparently part of my issue may stem from my right kidney. They found a couple of [benign, I think] cysts and what they believe to be a kidney stone.
YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY!
The excitement produced by the idea of possibly passing one of these foreign objects through my narrow, male urethra is mind-warpingly monstrous!

I give you; sarcasm.

In other news, I have been eating this and my tapeworm [Terrence, you may call him Terry] is very happy with me:



It's way derishus and makes me less grumpy. That could be due to the massive sugar influx to my system or the fact that the ice cream actually contains real Girls Scouts but, either way, I'm content. The important thing is I no longer want to main/kill/destroy quite as badly as I wanted to last week at this time.



Also, in chipper news, I want to buy this for Bones.

I will love it.
He will hate it.
I will cheer.
He will puke up a hairball on my floor at 2am so that I step in the cold mess upon attempting to empty my full {kidneystoned] bladder.
And it will be worth it.



Everyone I know is sick. Hawking up stuff [much like Bone's beloved hairball], coughing, sneezing, wheezing. Ew. Get the hell away from me. If I wanted to become one of The Infected I'd ask politely as opposed to you contaminated masses randomly spewing and expelling bodily fluids within my personal space.



I just got a new computer. Well, it's a new-to-me refurbished HP with 3 GHZ processor, dual Pentium 4's and a 2 GB (soon to be 6GB) of RAM.
You know what this means?
I mean besides being able to watch endless, uninterrupted Netflix streaming until my eyes bleed?
No, fool, not porn.
Well, some porn but ......... it means this!



Mm-hmm, That's right, I'm not gonna front -- I occasionally enjoy some WoW. I'm willing to admit this without even the slightest hint of shame.

Okay, well maybe just a smidge.



I found this site earlier this weekend, it makes my heart happy:





I realize I'm not providing a ton of relevant or important information in this post but I'm still waiting on tomorrows doctors visit before I'm fully comfortable and "back in the saddle," as it were, emotionally. When I'm troubled nine times out of ten I write but if I'm ... scared ... well, I don't write. I internalize and wallow in said internalizations. Not the most delicious mental state but I'm comfortable with it and I do it quite well, if I do say so my damn self. It's a matter of having faith in my self and faith in others.
I deal with these struggles quite often.
Oh, speaking of faith:



It's possible I'll go to Hell for adding that picture after bringing up the topic of faith but I think whatever powers that be realize that I use humor as a crutch.
Or cane.
Or walker.
Or Hoveround.

I think I'm going to make my lunch and bring it to work tomorrow. I never do that. I tfell like making a triple-decker a PB&J. And chips. And carrots. And Pixie Stix.
And a Ding Dong.
Ohnohedin't.
Yes he did.
Ding Dong.
And I'll use these bags so no one eats my sammiches:



Igosnorenow.

<3
Scotty