At this stage I can’t tell y’all how my first wife’s little stent procedure went as they only just took her down to have the procedure.
Apparently she should be back within a couple hours. Funnily enough, that’s also what my ol’ Piha Pop said to my Nana once upon a time, when he went down the road to buy some milk but got caught up whorin’ for a few days instead. Thinkin’ my Mrs won’t get so side-tracked as has different priorities… like staying alive. Actually, Piha Pop probably should’ve worried about staying alive when he got back home too.
It’s kinda weird having to blog as often as I am now as it’s like similar to when we started this journey with daily updates. Looks like we’ve gone full circle in that things are changing for good or bad, almost by the hour, rather than by the month.
It’s a little sad but she ain’t fucken dead yet and doesn’t intend to be for a while yet. Whether her (and our) intentions become reality depends a lot on how this endoscopy unfolds. Well, I’ll call it an endoscopy now but after googling it I think the correct term is actually Endoscopic Retrograde Cholangio-Pancreatography (ERCP).
Tonight will be Marjana’s third night in hospital and fuck man, what a difference having a primo room makes. For her mental health as much as anything but also for me visiting all day. It’s heaps better being comfortable compared to the contrary like last time we were in hospital. Plus the fact, she’s got natural sunlight which we used on jaundiced Dilan when he was born nearly 18 years ago. Fuck man, he was as orange as a really orange coloured orange but in all honesty, I’m thinkin’ no amount of sunlight was gunna un-yellow the first wife. We’re sure hoping this ERCP will do the trick though.
Nothing against The Simpsons or Asian sheilas but I travelled through most continents, including Asia and even passed by the odd Simpson here and there (admittedly, that was their last name and not a cartoon character) and not once did I marry even one of ’em. Don’t get me wrong though, I like the colour yellow but my favourite shit navigator looks sick as fuck from the bile building up in her liver and making her yellow.
For the record too, one of Marjana’s changing the radio station as soon as certain bands come on bands, is Coldplay, so even the song ‘Yellow’ can go fuck off now too. Besides, when was the last time the Yellow Pages were used by any cunt that wasn’t part of the old cop v baddie interview technique? So right now when it comes to yellow, we’re like ‘meh’.
And before any cunt brings that political correctness whinging shit up saying ya can’t call Asians yellow, fuck off please. They ain’t. I even call my former fiancé yellow and she ain’t even one of the Simpsons so maybe it’s the fact that you’re actually the racist cunts picking on the poor colour yellow. I mean, what did yellow ever do to you huh?
Being all inclusive and shit, personally I’d say I’m more of a white-ish, yellow-ish, pink-ish, beige-ish, brown-ish, khaki-ish, ivory-ish fella whose a bit bald and seems to be growing a fat guts. For ease though, I’m gunna self identify as a fat white bald cunt. Golly gosh, I really hope that also don’t upset any literate fairies with sensitive feelings. Just checked with myself too and nup, didn’t get one bit upset at being called a fat white bald cunt.
I guess we’re all a little sensitive in certain things but I reckon it’s better to keep any of that shit for things that are worth worrying about like, you know, having my cook fucked up with cancer. Yeah, that’s what I’m sensitive to, as I’m sure most of you reading this are too. It’s difficult sometimes to do that daily but in our family we try our best not to sweat the small things. The bigger things in life cause enough grief to cover the smaller things too, believe me.
Not quite sure how I ended up on that rant but anyway, I can’t say what Mrs Winslow gunna be like when she comes back from that ERP thing but she’s actually been in pretty good spirits, considering.
The main things we’ve been dealing with in the forefront is pain and fatigue. They’ve mostly got that sorted in hospital with some decent drug concoctions that knock off most of the pain. If the right spell is used, it can also help with the fatigue side by countering some of the downers.
Last night though the first wife woke up about 1am in agony and had to get some extra feel good happening. It’s probably the worst thing, having to watch the one ya love suffer in pain. Cunt of a thing really but we aren’t the first, won’t be the last and by no means are we the worst off so continually remind ourselves exactly that. I/we feel for young children affected by serious shit like this. That shit just ain’t right.
Over the last few months we’ve been making a point of appreciating the moments we go to sleep together and also wake up together. With rugby tours, shift work and yeah, maybe the odd party when she goes to bed before me and I wake up after her, this hasn’t always been the case but they are moments to enjoy. If she was a pain in the ass cunt, then I wouldn’t mind so much but I do quite like my first wife.
The issue with going to sleep together lately though, is that both of us end up having a cunt of a sleep because Marjana wakes up in pain and cries in agony. She rolls around on the bed trying to ease the pain but it ain’t a fly she can just swat away. I usually end up rubbing her back as that tends to help for some reason. So when she told me this morning she was in massive pain overnight I actually felt a little guilty for feeling good that she was in hospital and not at home. It didn’t stop me from taking the piss though.
Quote of the Day:
Me: Did you sleep well last night ljubavi?
Marjana: At first yes, but then I woke up in so much pain.
Me: Oh good. Now they know what we deal with every night aye.
Nurse laughed and I think it was in response to that, quote of the day two is born…
Doctor: Sometimes you only wake up because of the pain.
Me: Oh, so it’s like a marriage then.
Well the above took me two hours to write and I know that because my banana skin looking partner went down for her ERCP two hours ago and the surgeon just came in and briefed me on how it went.
Just on him though, my first wife phoned me after I got home last night saying she’d met the liver surgeon who was very clear in his explanation, was very informative, had a good vibe and made her feel a lot better because of it. Was nice to hear that she didn’t loathe the person trying to save her life as much as she loathes Coldplay.
He said it was a successful procedure and that he’d put one stent in the main part that the bile was building up in, she will be in pain and that hopefully over the couple of days, Little Miss Tweety Bird coloured person’s original colour should hopefully return. From there our oncologist who I’m not allowed to call a gnome even though he looks like one will hopefully have treatment options available, unlike recently due to this liver shit taking immediate precedence.
She’ll be sleepy as fuck for a while. If I wasn’t sick of The Wiggles, I’d go back to the Purple Wiggle likening, but this time from sleeping and not her colour. Instead, I’ll go with her being sleepy as fuck similar to how we feel when we watch all these fucked tv shows about bachelors, bachelorettes, farmers wanting wives, marrying at first sight, masterchiefs, someone’s kitchen ruling and some cunts surviving out of their comfort zones. Re that last one, follow these blogs and you’ll see some cunts surviving our of their comfort zones in the real world.
Get back to y’all once I got more to say I guess but for now, we’re in as good a spot as we can be.
I’ll leave you with the last quote of the day, courtesy of our surgeon Peter:
Peter: With that stent working, we will get some good time.
Fuck yeah!
(Marjana usually proof reads my blogs but she’s still in recovery from op so she can read this one just like you fellas)
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