The Rough Stuff

You know how the first day after a 'procedure', you still have the anesthesia on your side? You feel comfortably numb, the pain meds seem to do an okay job of making you not want to cry, and if you should find yourself unable to sleep more than forty minutes at a whack, well, cleaning the kitchen at five a.m. isn't all that terribly unproductive. Then it all happens the second night, and you're exhausted, the super-duper pain elixirs are useless, you can't swallow water, much less pudding or jello, and you just melt into a puddle, wondering where that terrific, "I can't believe I just had surgery yesterday" woman went... because you'd like to strangle her and tell her to get her butt in bed. Oh, I made it to the sofa today, wrapped in blankets, wool socks on my feet, heating pad on top of that. I must have fallen asleep ten times, but can't seem to stay that way. It may be the needing to swallow that is messing me up. I have Prednisone to help with the swelling, but I'm scared to take it, mostly because you need to take it with food, and I can't keep any down. I'm pretty sure the tepid broth I just sipped will revisit me later. Yeah, like you needed to read that. Sorry. I held knitting in my hands for awhile. I cast on for the pretty pink sweater in the Fons & Porter's "Love of Knitting" mag, but after discovering another damaged right out of the package KnitPicks cable, and getting it all put back together on the other one, it was lights out for me again. Lil' miss droopy-drawers and her ill-timed naps...

I think it's time for a dose of something. This is the first time I've been able to commandeer the computer since Monday evening... those greedy chirruns have discovered watching cartoons online. The saddest thing about this tonsillectomy has been the discovery that not all pain can be controlled by narcotics. My whole face can be numb, but the throat still hurts... a lot. Every day is supposed to get better. I hope that begins tomorrow, because the getting worse part is getting to be a drain. I am so thankful to Melly and Robin and LeAnn for keeping the shop open. Sorry I can't chat you up today, or even call to check on you. Herr Becher is as useless as ever when it comes to phoning for me. He even cost me a date with Miss Melly today. (I wasn't asleep when you called, just in some kind of drugged stupor.) Thank you all for the well-wishes. They mean a great deal to me. I'm told pretty things have gone up in the shop. I can't wait to get back. Latah, knittas and crafty vixens... C