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Well, I'm home. That's right, I'm finally out of the hospital, which is why I'm writing this entry on my own. I guess I should thank my nephew for keeping the blog going while I was gone. Mostly it just taught me to change my passwords in a timely fashion.
Now, don't start celebrating my homecoming yet or anything -- I'm still not well. My tricky, devious, sneaky wife manipulated me into leaving. I'm not gonna go into details, but let's just say she took advantage of me at my most vulnerable. And man, she was pretty smug about it after, lemme tell ya. I knew my wife was sly, but she can be downright treacherous when she puts her mind to it. I know, I know, I can take down Cartel assassins but I don't stand a chance against my wife. I admit it. But, I challenge any of you to go up against her and see where you land...
So, I didn't want to come home, but I'm a man of my word. My wife was all in a tizzy because the doctors cleared me to leave, but like I told her -- they just want the bed. Seriously, you could be bleeding out your eyes and those douche canoe hospital administrators will find some way to kick you out if they can. I've been getting a whole fountain of crap from my family about this. No one seems to understand that I'm the one who gets to decide when I'm well.
My wife's got me doing physical therapy, which I guess is supposed to make me better, but really seems more like doctor-sanctioned torture. That sweet little girl they got running me through those machines? Yeah... she's pure evil in kitty print scrubs. The perky, good God, the perky -- I can't take it. I get that it's her job, but I'd like to see how perky she is after getting shot four times. The good part is, I finally convinced Marie that I don't need an audience now when I'm doing the exercises. I'm trying to learn how to walk again, suspended like some ridiculous asshole on a freaking pulley system -- I don't need my wife selling tickets.
Anyway, being home... it's not that much different. It's a lot more purple here, and there's a lot less Jell-O. I get to take pills rather than push a button, which is WAY better. My bed doesn't go up, and the TV has a much richer programming schedule.