And slow ends with ow. But less ow today than yesterday. So enough on my progress. I have a 4-inch incision which was greatly admired by the nursing staff. The bikini I'll never wear would hide it just fine.
My mother's stint overnighting with me is done and the next team has moved in. My daughter and her two boys, along with a cousin of theirs, are camping out with me tonight. It's pizza and Harry Potter. Maybe Pizza Hut grease will accomplish what the laxatives, stool softener and extra fiber haven't yet done. If you expect to hear all about that in great detail, swallow your disappointment right now.
I mentioned Tara's trickery last time, and you're witnessing it in action. I figured out that she'd get me hooked on this blogging thing so that I would experience pangs of guilt for not writing. Let's give her a hand for successful manipulation. To you, Tara, in the midst of my pain and wooziness, for the ability to kick me in the butt. Don't forget I'll be back at work soon with my own new and improved butt-kicking ability.
About my brief hospital stay: My room was where the fun happened. The nurses congregated frequently when they needed contact with a patient who could actually hear or whose primary concern wasn't the fact of not pooping. I also didn't scream like the elderly woman down the hall. One good thing about her bellowing, though - I'm sure she was clearing out her lungs and eliminating the possibility of pneumonia. I did narc on the old guy next door. I was in a good sleep about 1:00 in the morning and suddenly blasted awake by the sound of CNN news on his TV. I guess he missed the memo about quiet time between 10pm and 6am.
I did discover that none of the therapy instructors have any real good information about resuming sex. It's apparent that their teaching materials still assume a geriatric population where waiting three months for sex is called foreplay. Aside from the length of wait time, I'd like to know about the advisability of certain positions or levels of expended energy, but figured I'd better do some research on my own. After all, I have the next two months, 28 days, 12 hours and 37 minutes to learn. Counting down ...
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Beerma! Glad to hear you survived and are back home. Here's to a speedy liberation from handrails! If only it were summer. Then you could pass out in a lawn chair (handrails attached) in the front yard mid-blog after taking your meds...Jim F
ReplyDeletePizza Hut grease will accomplish what the laxatives, stool softener and extra fiber haven't yet done - does it get any better than this. Stephen King said if he couldn't scare you he'd at least gross you out - anything to get an emotion from the reader. Bravo! You are succeeding admirably. I'm enjoying following your progress, even though it will eventually lead to horribly descriptive details of your sordid sex life. Glad to hear you have company, you're being looked after and that you are progressing nicely.
ReplyDeleteTara
Glad to hear the surgery went well. The Pizza Hut Pizza should get you going! When you get to walking more, have someone drop you off at Target, grab a cart and walk the perimeter. This allows you to walk with you head up,which according to Don's physical therapist, is very important. It really helped him and was marvelous for me!
ReplyDeleteJan