My boobs were my tools of the trade for almost 20 months.

Once my youngest daughter weaned herself from the Magical Boob Juice, the fun really began!

(And by fun we all know I mean chaos!)

Pull up a chair, sit a while, read a few pages.

Keep and open mind and a joyful heart and you too can get pumped into the world of The Milk Maid.


I'd Tell You To Go To Hell, But I Work There And I Don't Want To See You Everyday

So, needless to say if you've drawn any conclusion from the title of this post, I am back to work. Dr. Hottie McGropesalot did not want to give me clearance, but since my short-term disability would not pay (long story I am sure I'll gripe about later) I had no choice but to hoof it back to The Lab.

Since last we spoke (or since last I typed and you read, technically) I got rid of my PICC line and IV pump- THANK YOU SWEET BABY J!- and I'm pretty much recovered from the infection which was classified as MSSA Staph (fun to google if you are bored!).

The only hitch (ha, you will laugh at the pun in a minute... wait for it) is that my leg wont bend at the knee any more than say 10 degrees. So I limp.

Really, really limp.

Think this guy minus the cane and vicoden habit, but pretty much the same highly sociable patient/health care provider rapport (I'm usually kidding about that last part).

--The Milk Maid says meet the new boss (same as the old boss).