It’s 1:20 am and after only 90 minutes of sleep, I’m awake. I was awakened by an intermittent bright, very sharp pain where the right drain is. Or maybe higher. Since I was asleep I can’t really tell for certain. It spiked at about an 8 on the OMG-That-Really-Fucking-Hurts-Scale. So while I was still somewhat dazed I took 1/2 a Percocet.
Since I was reading the second book in my all time favorite fantasy series “The Wandering Fire” by Guy Gavriel Kay, I likened the pain to the plucking of a harp string: high and bright. I’ve got to say that I think that trilogy, while much more adult oriented and much darker, is a better fantasy trilogy than Lord of the Rings. Every time I read it, I laugh and I cry. THAT is the hallmark of a great author: creating a world that draws you in so completely that you feel THAT deeply for the characters.
I also realized that some of the things I ALSO had a brief desire to do were completely unreasonable. First, I wanted to go for a walk…in my PJs. At 1:30 in the morning. THEN I wanted to go see my son at work. He works overnights at the 7-11 a mile down the road. Driving on Percocet. BAD idea. Driving this soon after surgery. ALSO a BAD idea.
I don’t know if these are normal reactions to being on a pain killer of this magnitude. I call it being stoned because this feeling is similar to the times in my late teens I’ve smoked pot. Fortunately my common sense has a louder voice than whatever this is. I would take a sleeping pill but I’m really rather afraid to add anything to the Percocet for fear that I won’t wake up.. Well, maybe not fear…more logical reasoning tells me: Gee, you’re already pretty wrecked on this major narcotic. Adding another drug on top of it…didn’t that kill Heath Ledger and Anna Nicole Smith? Uhm…better not do that.
It’s odd to realize that even in this daze I’m still capable of logical deduction and relatively clear thinking. So…how do I get this voice to shut up about wanting to see my kid?? I’d say sleep, but we’ve been over this already.
Poor Ken. Earlier tonight he talked about going to Disney by himself on Sunday. I let him know in no uncertain terms THAT was completely unacceptable. I also owned that I was being totally selfish. I want to go but I’m concerned about my ability to tolerate that long a trip and that level of jostling around. It’s only been 16 days since Dr. Elliott took muscle, skin and fat off my back, smoothed out the scar tissue and made me brand new boobies by tunneling those gigantic chunks of still-living flesh under my skin and molding them on my chest. Pretty major surgery. Granted, I was sleeping in the hotel at this point but still… Major surgery.
I’m not the least bit concerned about the H1N1 flu. There have been absolutely no confirmed cases in central Florida and only two in Cape Coral. That’s 127 miles away from Orlando and another 50+ miles to Melbourne. So that has no bearing. I’m just concerned that even with a wheelchair, I might not have the endurance. It would just kill me to get through the gate and go “Okay, I’m done. Time to go home.”.
Of course, the more I talk about it, the more I realize that I’m really worrying over something that probably won’t happen. We’ll spend 3-4 hours there, do the things that my body can tollerate, then we’ll go get some little thing at California Grill and come home. It’s not an “unreasonable” fear. It’s just overly cautious.
After miming driving motions though, I realize that going to see my son IS unreasonable and will cause me too much pain. With MY luck I’d get up there but couldn’t get back. Then I’d have to leave my car there until John got off work and he’d have to drive it over here to the house. It’s just not worth it.
I talked in previous installment about the pain from the right drain. I’m still having what I have to call “sensitivity” in my under arm area. Yes it’s pain, but it’s more like someone took a cheese grater and rubbed it repeatedly under there on both sides. Now the nurse DID explain that my nerves there are raw and inflamed. While it IS getting better, it’s still a contender on occasion for the worse spot. Especially when I put on deodorant. That’s when it gets really bad. Rubbing the hard deodorant there is akin to initiating the cheese grater sensation again. Touching doesn’t cause pain but lifting my arm still stretches things around under there and the stretching is what hurts. I wonder if I should have Ken pick me up a spray-on deodorant?
Like most things, it seems like the minute I ask for something, it turns out that I don’t need it. For instance I asked for an extension of the muscle relaxer prescription. The next day my back spasms stopped all together, so I don’t need them. I’m starting to run a little low on Percocet but two acetaminophen takes enough of the edge off that I don’t always need one. I think when I go to bed I’ll take the big bottle in there with me and when I wake up I’ll try taking two of them first thing and see what happens.
If my next post header is ow ow Ow OW OW!! Part 2, you’ll know the answer to that. In the mean time I think I’ll take a walk 😉