After surgery comes the pain pills and pathology report. Oh, and the wearing of the surgical bra, which cannot be taken off. In other words, no showering for a week. Believe me when I say that baby wipes are no substitute for a proper washing.

Remember the horrible nightmares from Mr. Percocet? Well, Mr. Vicodin brought them back, in full force. Of course, who needs to sleep for more than a few consecutive hours? Especially when I can randomly pass out during the day? Today was the first day I didn't take a single vicodin, and I'm seriously hoping that I actually sleep soundly through the night.

Moving on, the pathology report is just super very extremely important. It contains all sorts of things, such as whether the margins on the removed tissue are clear and the makeup of the removed cells. If the margins aren't clear, it's back to the cutting board. You could say that I'm anxious to get the results.

I had a post-op appointment scheduled for Monday. After determining that no green puss was leaking from the incision, I was declared shower-safe. Dr. Surgeon'sAssistant also said something about the incision healing nicely, but by then I was too busy dreaming of a shower.

Then came the horrible news - the pathology report was not ready yet! It would probably be ready by Thursday, but I'd have to come back to the hospital. Apparently it is against hospital policy to give pathology results over the phone. Seriously. WTF.

I was going to have to come back next Monday, regardless, for Dr. Surgeon to take a look at his handiwork. I could wait until then, at which point my results were nearly guaranteed to be ready. Or I could schedule another appointment with Dr. Surgeon'sAssistant for Thursday. Let's see, I am very patient and capable of waiting an extra four days for incredibly important news. So I agreed to call her on Wednesday afternoon. If the results were in, I'd come in Thursday morning. Otherwise, I'd be waiting until Monday.

Today I made the call, and lo and behold, my results are in! But she wouldn't even give me a hint. In fact, she was completely monotone the entire time. I guess I'll have to wait until tomorrow morning. I promise to let the intartubes know. Well, after I tell my parents. And close friends. And coworkers. But before I tell the mayor and his henchmen.