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Pain is Weakness (and 14 inch Jackson-Pratt drains) Leaving the Body

So as part of the pick-it-out-pour-it-in surgery, I had five Jackson-Pratt drains inserted into my abdomen. These puppies wind around my gut, are at least 12 inches of tubing each, and allow for any excess fluid to be cleverly caught in egg-shaped rubber cups.

I had three of these bad boys taken out today, and holy moly, people, I never knew pain before today.

First, imagine little snakes living in your body. But they live in five cans. The top of each can appears on the surface of your abdomen in a circular shape. To get the snakes out, the top has to be carved out of
your skin, then the dude removing the snakes (in my case, my boy Dave the Physician's Assistant) has to pull them out. He grabs the head of the snake, pulls as far he can, then uses his other hand to pull out even more snake, and so on. Until the pain is CRAZY but the snakes are gone, baby, gone.

Within hours of getting four massive holes in my body (I'm not even going to mention the chest tube taken out of my left side because it was hilariously easy compared), your pal WunderGlo hit the hospital hallways and walked farther than ever before. An hour after that, she walked even farther.

Cancer, the snakes I use to obliterate you may cause a bit of a sting (to say the least), but you're dead, dipped in paraffin wax, being analyzed in a lab, and have no trace of your idiotic self in my body. And you never will again.

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