GA

No, it's not Gambler's Anonymous. That's what my mum and dad take care of at Caritas. I've spent the greater part of the day in a private hospital and now am suffering from nicotine-related withdrawal symptoms. No I didn't go cold turkey, but 6 cigarettes in a day is way too little for my addiction. I'm finally home and can smoke to my heart;s (and death's content). So what happened for me to be dragged into an unfriendly smoking building such as a hospital. It was a case of septicemia, not mine, the Mister's, which started by a tooth extraction (actually a trial of an extraction) gone horribly wrong. I never thought teeth could be so dangerous, seems they can be. So poor babe had to go under the knife (or driller or jackhammer or chainsaw) complete with general anaesthetic. And for once I was relieved it wasn't me. Yes selfish me ain't I, but having had dental work to last three lifetimes already, I could never face the GA. The thought of it makes me sick and want to run in horror. What if I start blabbing about my life while under GA? What if I started mind-blogging? The chances of going to sleep while having Joe Demicoli in the background would be very slim. Although I guess I could put in a request, probably against a fee, seeing that everything comes against a fee in a private hospital. And what about the damn hospital gowns? Why are they in a size zero now? Of course my Mister couldn't fit into something like that, and I have a terrible feeling that I couldn't either, another thing why I thanked the good Lord it wasn't me. Mister is also a good patient, meaning he will keep a brave face if someone is giving him the attention given to a woman going into labour. I am terribly bad at being a patient, I just do not want the attention, I want to go home and that's it. But today I felt the fear, which I hadn't felt for a long time. And I'm glad I'm home perhaps with floors not as pristine as the ones in the hospital, home riddled with cats and dogs and clutter. Because for 2 hours I thought perhaps it was time the Gods made me suffer again. Somehow the words GA send me rolling into another world when I feel helpless and scared and trying not to think what I think anyway. I was thinking for nothing, but I am glad I thought for nothing. So GA has come and gone, and I hope it will stay away for a long time.