Cold Season

My hubby caught a cold... 3 weeks ago. He still has it, even though he gave it to me 2 weeks ago. I still have it, even though I gave it to my co-worker a week ago.

It isn't fun.

In weirder news: I had a dream.

That's not the weird part though. In my dream, I had fallen asleep with a dislocated knee. The way it was dislocated cut off all blood flow below my knee. When I woke up (in my dream) I went to the hospital, because it really didn't look right. They looked me over, found that all of the tissue below the knee was dead, and told me they had to amputate. My only concern at this point is the fact that I'm about to lose my memorial tattoo; a frog on my right ankle, which I had done on my father's birthday, 3 months after he passed away. While I was talking to the surgeon, going over all of the details about the procedure, I asked him if he could cut the tattoo off of my ankle, and use that patch of skin as the "flap" for my stump. He explained that since the tissue had been dead for so long, it would be impossible to reattach it.

So I asked him to cut my tattoo off anyway, and put the skin in a cooler, so I could take it to my friend, the taxidermist. He looked at me very strangely, before finally consenting with a sigh, and an "it's your body." Fast forward to post-op, and I am handing my best friend a little slice of myself, asking her to turn me into leather.

What I got back was a nice picture in a frame: My skin was stretched on a wooden circle, much like a dream catcher, and I had my memorial preserved.