Yesterday, an oncology surgeon sliced my back open and cut off a big chunk of skin (yep, that’s it in the container above, ready to be sent for another biopsy to make sure they got all the cancer out of me). It was ironically shaped like a football (the surgeon explained that makes it easier to pull the skin back together with stitches).
He was kind enough to numb the area first (a painful little process in itself, to be perfectly honest).
Today, I watched my beloved Florida Gators lose a football game against the Georgia Bulldogs.
I didn’t have any painkiller for this agonizing little ordeal.
I prefer what I went through yesterday–even without painkillers–to what I had to tolerate today.
Sure, the doc was cutting cancer out of my back.
But listening to the other team’s fans go on and on about their win could be considered another kind of disease right now.
Today, 24 hours after the surgery, I feel like someone took a hatchet to my back.
I think I’ll be feeling the pain of this football game for a whole lot longer. That’s the penalty for living deep in enemy territory where my Georgia-loving “friends” will remind me all year long of the score.
There’s still a little hope here. Florida could still make it to the SEC Championship game, but that would mean Georgia would have to lose to Ole’ Miss or Auburn. Not likely, true. But, as we saw today, every dog has his day.