Tuesday, May 6, 2014

Existential crisis in the making...

To the tune of Fun to Do in the LDS Primary Songbook.

Sitting up straight is hard to do,
Hard to do, to do to do,
Sitting up straight is hard to do,
to do, to do, to--whoops! [crash]

Blinking my eyes is hard to do,
Hard to do, to do to do,
Blinking my eyes is hard to do,
B-blink, it's hard, blink-blink.

Using my words is hard to do,
Hard to do, to do to do,
Using my words is not easy to be,
Too use, two have, tu-tu.

All of y'all lied to me. I has the disappointment in you. Everybody swore up and down that the second day would be the worst and I would be a miserable little ball of wadded up agony soaking in my own frigid tears. Thursday, Friday, and Saturday were wonderful days and I actually had an inordinate amount of fun despite being just post-surgery.
Instagram recap!

Thursday around Noon pm I looked about like this...

I was a completely boring druggie and did nothing of any entertainment value on the way home from the doctor's office. I don't remember ANY of it, but I am told I mostly just moaned to myself and slept. Which is pretty much what I did the rest of the day on the couch. I do recall being slightly disappointed when we pulled the gauze out of my mouth for the first time and I realized there were only two small pieces in there rather than the gigantic wad I had been feeling for the past couple hours.
So then of course I couldn't stop touching my lips. My lower jaw/chin/lip region remained numb until early the next morning, so that resulted in some fun times. Like using one hand to find my mouth and guide the water bottle up to it, squirting in too much because I couldn't tell how full my mouth was and gulping with my mouth open, sloshing water all down my front.
I'm a super graceful giraffe like that.
That night I went to choir rehearsal despite my altered condition considering it was our last rehearsal before the last concert of the season, and I mean, lesbihonest, nobody even noticed I was "compromised". Let's not dwell too much on what that means as far as my "normal" behavior out in public.
But here is where I met the many testimonials of pain and anguish that I was sure to be experiencing within 24 hours or less.
I braced myself for the worst.

Friday about 3pm...

Earlier that day I had tidied up the kitchen, taken out the trash, folded laundry and started another load. Here I was taking a break before heading to my ENT appointment, after which I met up with some gal-pals for a Girl's Night Out!

Clockwise from the top (white sandals):
Allora, Taylor, Kymber, Hope, Jacquie, and Kristin.

I couldn't have pictured a better first experience for a pedicure. I'm still in love with my choice in nail color and I'm already dying to go back for another. In my head I always just thought you sat in a chair and somebody painted your toes. Which can seem really silly and superfluous when you aren't much of a nail-painting person. But I would be happy to just go back and sit in those chairs they have, I nearly fell asleep at the salon. The massage settings were very nice and I didn't realize they soak your feet and rub lotion all over 'em. Granted, I had to grip the chair pretty tightly as she manhandled my feet and especially when she pulled the lotion over each toe individually. Yikes, it tickled!
After that wonderful curse of an experience (my wallet will not appreciate that being introduced into my life) we went on over to Zupa's for some fabulous food. I've been addicted to that place since I first went a couple months ago and it was absolutely perfect for this weekend because their soups are divine and that's all I could have eaten anyway.
All I'd been feeling at this point was groggy and slightly loopy. I forgot things pretty quickly and messed up sentences really easily, using a completely wrong word randomly. But I wasn't in much pain at all.

Saturday at around 7am, Mark rolled over and nudged me awake asking if we still wanted to go to the lake with his family that morning. If so, we needed to head out to breakfast within the hour. I had completely forgotten and mostly wanted to just sleep at the moment but we hadn't spent good quality time with Mark's dad and brother for quite awhile, so we got up. We met with Tom and Mary, Robert, and family friends Jude and Emry at the Red Mountain Cafe on University and Higley for a nice breakfast and it was delicious. I had issues getting my mouth open wide enough to slide in a spoonful of "house fries" (which were basically just mashed potatoes?) or scrambled eggs with ham bits.
We ran into trouble at the lake when we didn't get out nearly as early as we wanted to and all the spaces at saguaro were full. We were redirected to the Pobrecito waiting lot for about an hour and a half.
But once we got out onto the lake it was beautiful and sunny and the water wasn't TOO freezing. Nobody got burned and we had plenty of drinks to stay hydrated, although I hadn't planned snacks too well for myself. So I got jealous of the cheetos and chips pretty fast.

(yay for being barely less pasty-white as the boat!)

That night we had some friends over for what turned into a night of just hanging out and general fun-having. I broke the rules and ate a few chips and salsa, chewing delicately and sipping soda.
Finally, after midnight had come and gone, we were laying down to sleep.

And then, Sunday morning, the fit hit the shan and I was reduced to a grumbling, moaning couch potato. It may very well be because I pushed myself so hard over the weekend and was merely experiencing a fun-hangover, but regardless of cause, the fun had ended.
Monday I called in to work because I was still relying too heavily on the meds and didn't feel that I would be doing anyone much good by coming into the office. If I didn't feel so guilty I probably would have taken today off as well.
I've only needed the nausea pills a couple times but I almost wish I would vomit so my mouth would have a reason for tasting this way. I've lost all appetite and still can't open my mouth much more than an inch or so. The nausea makes me wish to lie down, so sitting at a desk and remaining "proper" is proving more and more difficult. The pain meds make me so sleepy, I have a hard time keeping my eyes open. It's hardest when I blink because my eyelids seem so heavy it's difficult to open them again and when I do open them I go crosseyed for a little bit. Which seems to be giving me a headache. Or maybe it's just the pain of the surgery, it's hard to say.
If it's possible to get sea legs, I would say I have sea-brain.
Which of course makes me picture a slightly drunken-looking purple octopus in my cranial space. If I was any sort of computer artist I would attempt an illustration for y'all.

It's like I say things just to spite myself.
See how much I love you guys?
Also, that's probably the best depiction of my bedhead that has ever surfaced on the internet.
I'm also realizing that having "sea legs" means you're actually good at walking on a ship, but what I'm trying to refer to is walking on land once you've had sea legs so now everything feels like it's moving when it isn't and you kinda stumble around like a newborn zebra. Only you're an adult human so wobbling like a newborn anything-other-than-homosapien is kind of off limits.
I wish drinking water made me feel better.
If I were an octopus it would make me feel better.
Maybe I should be an octopus.

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