Tongue tied

My frantic blog readers, I have not forgotten you (okay maybe it’s just me and Wilber reading this so Wilber, my imaginary friend, I would never forget about you. Well except that time with all of the tequila…). It’s hard to think of clean living when your tongue feels like it has been battered, deep fried and sewn to the side of my mouth.

I had a growth on my tongue, caused apparently by a broken filling rubbing and causing a cut, which constantly tried to repair itself (Because I’m obviously super human). The unfortunate thing is it couldn’t so it did the next best thing, it grew a penis. So sadly my tongue had to be castrated. The specialist seemed to think the recovery would be slim to none, I would be fine after. He has obviously never had someone hack off a piece of his tongue, stitch it up and then cauterize it. I think his idea of recovery and mine differ slightly!

Now I’m on antibiotics, Tylenol 3’s and anti inflammatory meds, which makes my stomach hurt and me want to spew, so I’m also on Gravol. Talk about clean living, I must have lost at least 2 ounces off my tongue this week, so maybe this really is working.

A quick question for you, do you think pork rinds could be considered clean living? Probably not, but since I can’t swallow anyway, I doubt it matters. But I’m still sexy, especially since I can’t stop drooling.

So until another day without the pleasant glow of medications blurring my mind and causing me to hallucinate, bye bye