My navel has become the bionic navel. It's 50% old navel on top, and 50% new navel on the bottom. I am waiting for it to start fighting crime and injustice to the tune of 1970's action music.
It is rather odd to finally see my navel without having to play around with my midsection. Unfortunately the thrill of staring directly into my navel is marred by the fact that I'm still wearing the sodding corset. Apparently fluid built up in my abdomen, causing the doctor to extract it via syringe. * When I asked him if I can switch back to only wearing the corset for 12 hours, he gave a very prompt "no." So, hurrah, I'm stuck in this thing for 23 hours and 45 minutes (that's less 15 minutes for showering) a day until next week.
*For most part it's a relatively painless process until the fluid dries up and you are left with a needle poking you has he goes searching for the remaining fluid.
I have to admit that the main reason that I'm so irritated by this lengthy recovery because, frankly, I'd like to have one Summer start off on a good note. For as long as I can remember, I've never been a fan of Summer: Tanning is lost on me, I don't own a pool, and even if I was as ripped as some fitness model, I still would keep my shirt on unless it got oppressively hot. Yet, every year I try to get into the happy mode that everybody else seems to project. Well, I'll have to wait another year.
Alright, Whiny mode off.
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