Santa Taketh and Then Giveth

I had a wonderful Christmas. Santa decided to take my appendix on Christmas Day. Trying to get something out of the deal, I wanted to take the little bugger home pickled in a jar. B and the hospital wouldn't let me. It's all rather humiliating because this all takes place on my abdomen, which is pasty white and large. I don't know how they found my appendix (maybe they couldn't, and that's why they wouldn't let me take it home.) Of course the whole staff has to come and check it every 5 minutes, so now it it has become common knowledge that I'm fat, which, of course, draws more people.
I remember another bad medical day. I had a weird rash with blisters on my, you guessed it, abdomen. The doctor couldn't figure out what is was, so she invited about ten doctors in to come and look at my big whale belly covered with blisters. After they took pictures, they sent me home with home with a generic salve- even with all that exposure, no one knew what it was. No, they didn't actually take pictures.
After I had been home several days, Santa gave me a nice severe cold. I've been hacking uncontrollably, and darn it, it hurts to cough after an appendectomy. It also has the unfortunate side-effect of keeping me awake all night. Believe me, I've tried every cough syrup (gotten drunk, but still hacking,) and throat lozenge (ended up swallowing them whole while I'm coughing.) The only really good result of all this is that I'm not expected to do any work around the house .
I don't like Santa anymore.