Wednesday, December 29, 2010
Days 3-9: Spend most of it in pain, and calling for help every time you need to move. Try to remember why you left the hospital where the nice, nice nurses kept you drugged up on demerol. Begin to wish that you brought one of those movable beds with you. That would have made life so much easier.
Day 10: Spike a fever and end up in the ER for two hours only to have them tell you it is something "viral" which means one of two things: (1) they have no idea what is wrong and they won't give out any drugs or (2) They don't believe you had a fever and they won't give out any drugs. Either way, nobody's getting drugs!
Day 15: Become allergic to the pain meds. Have your feet feel like they are on fire and you want to scratch them off. Spend the night awake wishing there was some way to detach your feet then reattach them when the itching and burning stops. Call the pharmacist and have her tell you that ibuprofen cannot be causing the itching. "Maybe it's a new pair of socks" she says. Hang up on stupid pharmacist and call another pharmacist. Other pharmacist says "Uh oh!" when you tell her the problem. Have smart pharmacist confirm the allergic reaction. Call the doctor. Get Benadryl. Buy Aleve to help with the pain because Advil has ibuprofen, the thing that you are now allergic to, and Tylenol has acetaminophen. Acetaminophen makes you vomit, and vomiting with an 8-inch incision really, really hurts. Take Benadryl and hope it stops the itching. Take Aleve and hope it stops the pain.
Looks like my recovery is right on schedule!
Tuesday, December 28, 2010
Why waste wrapping paper? Just combine pieces of different papers, and don't wrap the back. No one sees that part anyway. Will someone PLEASE teach Husband how to wrap a gift?!?
Of course Gary had to join us for our celebrations!
Our Christmas Eve dinner. Usually, we make our own pizzas on Christmas Eve, but given my recent surgery, I wasn't really feeling up to getting everything together to make pizzas. So we ordered instead. This Christmas was about me doing as little as possible so I didn't tear my incision open. This, along with some root beer, was also our Christmas Day breakfast. Let's just say, that is not a tradition we will adopting anytime soon.
The turkey. It did not get eaten on Christmas day because we were still recovering from our pizza and root beer breakfast. Have I mentioned that was a very, very, very bad idea?
My beautiful book on grain elevators that Husband got me for my birthday. I absolutely love grain elevators. I'm not really sure why; I guess it's the prairie girl in me. I wish I could show you the amazing pictures inside, but I am pretty sure that is a violation of the copyright, and I don't want to end up in jail. I hear they don't allow grain elevator books in jail!
Wednesday, December 22, 2010
Dear Sister who feels so neglected in her life,
I have been thinking and I feel that it is unnecessary for me to apologize about your week being stolen for the following 3 reasons:
A) Rolling my car was not intentional, if you want to blame someone blame mother nature. She caused it to happen.
2) It was my week before it ...was not yours because it was my birthday. So technically it has been my week for the last 24 years. It was NEVER yours. You just intentionally planned your surgery then so that you could steal my week in the first place. So maybe Mother Nature was giving us a gentle reminder that weeks can't be stolen so she caused it to happen so that my week was given back to me. Mother Nature set things back into its proper order. Get over it.
D) This just furthermore proves my point that I am the most loved sibling. I can't help the fact that the family was more concerned about me than you. Man, I am loved aren't I?
P.S. Stuff that in your little blog and spread it
Tuesday, December 21, 2010
Sunday, December 12, 2010
Having Gary in our home these past few weeks has led us to make the following conclusions:
1) We really need a pet and
2) Talking to a stuff animal is one step away from the loony bin!
I wonder if they let stuffed animals in those padded rooms?