Archives for July 2007

This shit is for the birds, people. I’m not familiar with many surgeries, thank goodness, but I *am* familiar with tonsillectomies. I mean, who pluralizes that? I know how to pluralize it. As this is my second, I know that they’re not kidding when they warn that the pain will GET WORSE for the first four to seven days.

It just ain’t right, but it’s so. As Lala pointed out to my complaining ass last night, EVERYTHING I need to do is affected. Breathing hurts due to the holes in my throat. Swallowing is awful. Eating is almost impossible. Talking is agony, AND I sound stupid. Can’t sleep for choking, and I feel too bad to even wash my hair.

And here’s this huge ugly wound, constantly moving, in a dark, bacteria-filled, dirty place, and it has to just fight its way through infection to health. Me and my throat, we’re tired. I know I’ll feel better soon, in a matter of days, probably.

But it’s been five days, and I’m more miserable now than I was then. Ain’t no drugs good enough for this, sadly.

Digit is the best drug for me even though at the moment he’s making me CRAZY trying to bump his cone-head up on top of my lap while I type. See? I’m even annoyed at him today. Bah, bah, bah.

And apparently I kvetch like a sheep.

Digit does NOT like Clara anymore than he ever did.

Handsome as Anthony Bourdain, and twice as dangerous.

https://rachaelherron.com/hopefully-by-no/

Digit eating, growling softly to keep Willie at bay.

And from another angle, the table looks like this:

But oh my god, if you get up and personal at the tail level, this is what’s going on:

WAYLON HELD DOWN DIGIT’S TAIL for like four minutes. Digit still twitches the end of the tail when he’s pissed off, so I know he has use of it, but is the feeling diminished? It must be! To allow THAT! And why did Waylon just sit there for so long? Not playing with it, like he does ALL other tails, just companionably holding it.

Yes, my face is a bit puffy, but how much do I love sleeping with my little man?

Hahahahaha. This one makes me laugh. I captured in this shot the first (and so far, strangely, only) kitten smackdown. That’s Willie, being cowed, trapped by fear, and Waylon, who was momentarily startled and then forgot to be afraid again.

(I know there are people horrified by the fact that we allow cats on our table (not while eating, obviously) but oh, well. There are more cats than us, and we pick our battles.)

**The above was pre-blogged. This part is live, because I still want to talk to you. Isn’t it weird, this blog-thing, that I’m just sitting here in bed, and I think you will want to know how it’s going? Because some of you really do? I do think that’s the sweetest, nicest thing, and I love you all for it.

(Codeine syrup gives me the love, darlings. It really does. I keep calling Lala into the room just so I can gaze at her and tell her how much I adore her. I don’t think she minds, though.)

So I’ll just tell you my set-up real quick, because I’m SO happy with it. I’m tucked up into bed, with our yellow/red/orange quilt on it that our friends Rachel and Kira, the pocket vegans, made us for our wedding. To my right, on my bedside table, I have seven new books, one for every mood I might be in. I was reading Animal, Vegetable, Miracle by Barbara Kingsolver, but I had to stop, because the food descriptions were too wonderful, and I can’t eat anything yet that has any shape at all. Tapioca, no lie, feels too sharp as yet. Stupid pointy tapioca.

So instead I’m reading The Good, Good Pig by Sy Montgomery, to soothe my pastoral-memoir fetish. Lovely writing so far. I also have Harry Potter, just sitting there, looking at me, but I honestly don’t feel strong enough yet to hold it up to read it. Maybe a few more days and I will.

I also have a bed-tray that holds this here laptop and my cell phone. I have four netflix DVDs sitting near me — two more disks of Freaks and Geeks (I love the series so much I’ve dragged out watching them for years now, wanting to save the goodness), the first Nip/Tuck DVD (have heard good things) and 1940s House, which I missed on TV.

I have a boyfriend pillow — that sitting-up pillow with little armrests. I have to say, it’s handy. I’m not allowed to lie prone for THREE DAYS. That’s one more day of sitting up, even when sleeping, and the pillow really helps.

So I sit up against my boyfriend pillow, the laptop on its tray in front of me, knitting a sock, picking up my cell phone now and then to text Lala if she’s in the other room to tell her how great she is. Then she’ll text back, or send me an email, which feels really weird and funny, but saves my voice.

The voice, by the way, is coming back in. Hurts like an emeffer, but I can talk some. I am probably talking too much, actually, but like I said, codeine gives me the love, and I want to talk about it. Safer and more painless to do it here, so I LOVE YOU! Did you know that? And I think you have really pretty eyes.

Oh, and I almost forgot to mention the BEST PART.

This guy has been at my side most of the time. His cone does get in the way a bit, but mostly we snuggle just fine, and we both feel better when snorgling. (Which is way better than choking, by the way — I’m still choking a bit when I sleep, but I managed to get some good hours last night, which has made all the difference in the world.)

Plus, there are kittens running around, and Harriet being cute, and Miss Idaho being jumpy, and Clara being VERY VERY BAD (let’s not even start, but who knew that border collies liked bananas AND yogurt?), and sisters stopping by and making you a banana/peanut-butter shake — it’s all good. If I didn’t hurt so much, this would be a very fine vacation indeed.

This is actually how Willie lies around sometimes. He likes his limbs to dangle.

And here is me. Surgery went well, after waiting until SEVEN THIRTY PEE EM. Dude, I was completely over feeling hungry/thristy by then, I tell you what. But they were soooo nice to me, and my anesthetician and I discussed martinis, and then he gave a GREAT one in my veins, a nice, relatively slow-acting one (none of that 10-9-OUT stuff), so much so that I remember telling the crowded room how much I loved karaoke, and would they like a little Crazy, Patsy-Cline-style? Oh yes? You would? I belted out three lines, started on the fourth to the sounds of "Nice!" and hysterical laughter and then I was out, and then suddenly in recovery where my nurse was so sweet I wanted to kiss her. I had my very own nurse, not shared with anyone — everyone in recovery did. That’s luxury, I must say. Kaiser’s doing me right.

Came home and tried to sleep, but at 4:45am I decided to go back into ER — couldn’t sleep because my breathing was so obstructed by swelling that every time I fell asleep, I would choke myself awake, and the advice nurse said I should be seen. They gave me some steriods (yech) to help with the swelling, and I was home again by 10am.

The pain is bad. Nothing to do about that. The meds are adequate for 2 of the 4 hours, and then the next 2, while I’m waiting for the next dose, are no fun at all.

There. That is your update. I will try to stay offline and just let the pictures do the talking, but you all are right THERE and I can talk to you, and it doesn’t hurt at all to type…..