Skip to main content

Post-Op Day 4

Went to bed last night about 1030. That's 2230 for those of you on 24hr time (I've recently switched to that on my time keeping devices because, well, it's simpler).

Woke up about 630 this morning. I slept through the night. I only woke up once when I realized that I was about to put my arm above my head. Don't ask me how I knew that in a dead sleep, but apparently I did.

After a few minutes of just laying there and collecting myself, I did the log roll up to a sitting position. Took a quick assessment of the pain and realized that I didn't really feel any. There was a bit of aching...feels more like a bruise than anything--in my shoulder (posterior, near the right shoulder blade).And no pain from around the site of the incision.

Mind is Friday. The surgery was Monday.  It may be too early to call it a success yet, but fuck if it doesn't feel like one!

The no bending and twisting is hard. And to be honest, I'm doing the best that I can, but I haven't quite settled on a way to wipe my ass that doesn't involved bending or are some minor concessions when I poop. Which...yeah...I've pooped a couple of times since Monday, too. I know it doesn't seem like that big of a deal--trust me--it is.

Sleeping through the night was kind of huge, too. I did some walking yesterday and this morning. And I think I'm going to go to the parade tomorrow, too.

It's all a but surreal. Try walking city streets without bending or twisting. I feel like a  robot that has no neck articulation--the whole upper body has to turn. Much like a body builder who has roided out his neck to the point where his head looks like a fat grape on his sinewy shoulders.

What's funnier to me than all of that is how invisible I felt yesterday.  The incision is apparent. And I am guessing that to a casual observer, it looks like a really bad shaving accident or an after school special gone wrong. But if you are holding a phone anywhere near your face, you become invisible. Obviously with the no bending edict, it makes it tough for me to assume the proper 'cell-phone-engaged-disinterested-in-the-real-world' position, but I can get it close. And just like that, you become invisible. Whether people think you're engaged in your own world or not, that's the one piece of hardware that makes you practically invisible.

I got my malt from Graeter's. Have you ever tried to order from a place that has signs like that without looking up? Not so easy. Luckily I knew what I wanted.   Malt in hand, I did some more walking up State Street.

This morning it was a similar route.

I got up...mostly pain free. Threw on my birthday suit and headed to the shower.

Showering. Again quite the chore with the no bending and twisting. I could make a joke about not being able to lift 5lbs either, but ....yanno...I'm not completely fucking vulgar (all the time).  And warshing my hairs.  I'm not supposed to engage in anything that is considered overhead activity. Which is really kind of a bummer since I've been looking forward to practicing my throw-ins on the pitch. So...yeah...shampooing is kind of a fun little dance with the shower head.

After the fun aqua-antics, I got dressed. Turning one of my t-shirts in to a v-neck a la 80's valley girl style. And some shorts and the treaded footies.  Grabbed a few bucks and headed for my walk about.

But what about those sexy white anti-blood clotting stockings you're supposed to be wearing until the 14th?

Well...good question. I seem to recall the nurse saying I only had to wear them at bed time as long as I was moving throughout the day. And trust me...moving throughout the day is a small price to pay for not having to wear the albino thigh constrictors.

The walk to Schneider's this morning was good. I got a couple of glazed and a couple of chocolate iced-cake donuts. Along with some chocolate milk. And a bendy straw I just happened to remember to throw in my pocket.

Oddly, though, the chocolate milk didn't taste very chocolaty today. Not sure if it's the drugs I'm on for the pain or if something fundamental has changed with chocolate milk. It tasted very much like regular milk with only the slightest hind of chocolate for coloring.

Still sore when I swallow. I suspect that will be the case for a while considering what they had to do to to get to the spine.

I can't tell yet if it's affected my speech or not. Which is to say whether or not I'll have that kind of sexy raspy thing going on all the time or if it's just a temporary thing until my throat stops being sore.

Alright...I'm good for now. I need to get up and walk around about.  Here's one for the archives:

Have a kick ass Friday my friends. I'm sure I'll be around soon!



Darrin said…
Glad to hear that things are coming along nicely. Just keep doing what you're doing (ie doing what the doc told you) and you'll be better in some time ( since we know "no time" is unrealistic :-)

Popular posts from this blog

Out of Sorts

Not sure what my deal is today. I got up this morning to go for a walk and it was spitting rain, but no biggie. My thriftstore Nikes were kind of hurting my feet, so that didn't help. But it felt good to go for the walk (other than the hurting feet). And it's all going well...and then I get into work and just turn into PMS-Man.  I don't know what my deal is. I just feel bitchy this morning and I'm not sure why. Yeah. That's all I got.

Marriage Material??

I had a friend call me today, fuming. I consider myself a good listener on most days. Considering that I was out of town on a work trip and doing absolutely nothing in my hotel room, my listening game was on-point.

She recounted the exchange that sent her off. I will spare you some of the more personal details, but the gist was, at one point, the dude-bro she was talking to flat out told her that she wasn’t marriage material.

Torn between wanting to be a supportive friend and being completely gobsmacked, I felt her frustration. No. That’s not quite right. I didn’t feel the same frustration she felt. I’m approaching what some consider middle age. I’m white. I’m primarily interested in women. Oh, and I have a penis., I can never truly feel the same frustration she was feeling. Or an anger that comes from the same place her anger came from. No matter how in touch I am witn my feminine side (whatever the fuck that actually means).

Instead, the frustration and anger I was feeling w…

A Tribute to Limozeen may recall that I recently got my very first P.O.S. Electric Guitar back. And you may also recall the folly with the "amp" from Freecycle.

And now, dear readers, I will let you in on the dramatic conclusion to those harrowing tales.

From Bob at work I recently got a Vox Pathfinder 15amp which looks a little (exactly) like this:
I have to say, the amp freakin' rocks. It's got built in tremelo, and this killer overdrive feature which makes the thing sound crunchy as all get out.

So tonight, I decided to try it all out. The amp, the POS Guitar, the FAB distortion pedal (purchased the day of the Sam Ash incident), the Alesis drum machine and the Alesis io2.

The results are just...well, funny.

I give you the theme song to the soon to be hit WB-Series, "My 'Tard Husband." I call it "shortbus." Take a listen here. It's about 3MB in size and 4:14 of unbearable cheese (and the guitars get markedly louder at about the minute mark-you've been …