Thanks to the Groin Queen

Another Tip of the Hat to the Groin Queen.

Here’s me thanking everyone who posted, messaged, emailed, called, or asked to my face: “How are you doing?” after my most recent tour of Hollywood’s celebrity-filled Cedars-Sinai Cardiac Care Unit. (Sworn to secrecy, I am…. No, not really. There was just no good dirt to dish. Sorry TMZ.)

I really appreciate your concern. So…

Dudes (and Dudettes): Thank You All. I’m truly touched. And, just so you know, I’m much better. There are no longer elephants standing on my chest. So, that’s a plus.

But, Doctor’s orders: No more carbs, fats, meats, dressings, stairs, heavy lifting, drinking, exercise, couch potato-ing, grocery-toting, child-carrying-to-bed, hot-tubbing, toilet-scrubbing, laundry-folding, sex, piano-moving, trash-taking, or anything else in life that is part of living.

Well… Maybe ‘some’ dressings are Ok.

Let’s see how long this lasts… Um, too late. (I won’t tell which ones… But I love Italian dressing. There might be others. Wink.)

The drugs are kind of kicking my butt — excessive tiredness, confusion, fatigue,… RomneyMania. It’s crazy!

Things back at home seem to be returning to normal with the girls…

——-

I’m putting on a T-shirt…

Julianna enters the room (she’s eight): Daddy, why do you have such a big belly?

Me: Please, not now, Sweety. I have no energy for this.

J: It’s as big as a bouncy house!

Me: Honey, really? After the week I had? I’m sick.

J (realizing she’s crossed the line): Well, a bouncy house for… Babies. (Raising her finger for emphasis) “Tiny” Babies.

For the record, there are no preemies on my stomach. Just so you know.

The girls jump on me…. Doesn’t matter. They never let up. All in all, not so bad.

——-

Again, I appreciate that everyone is concerned about my heart health. I’ve heard from so many friends (some I haven’t talked to in years). You all warm my (dubious) heart.

And, I’ve gotten quite a delightful number of excessively long hugs and back rubs from my lady friends. I have absolutely no complaints there. None at all. Not a one. In fact… Doctor’s orders: She prescribes more excessively long hugs and back rubs from lady friends. “Excessive,” she says. (Hugs over the Internet are good, too.)

If you have no idea what I’m talking about… You can scroll down and read my two-part story. (Caution, there’s a little bit of foul language involved. But, I almost died, so, ya know… deal with it.)

And, of course, CHEERS to Vivienne the Groin Queen who wouldn’t leave my side (or my groin) when I needed her most. (If I had a dime for every time I’ve said that…)

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