adieu, nénés

I would say that this perhaps isn’t the best time to update, seeing as how I am cracked out and high as a kite on pain killers. But, what the hell — this has been my current state for the past three days and probably won’t change any time soon.

My “scar excision revision” surgery (say that five times fast) was on Friday. Two days before the surgery, my nose started to get runny. I developed a slight cough. Now, most people would call their doctors, tell them of this and probably have the surgery re-scheduled. Not Rowan. No sir, not me. I self-medicated. I drank hot tea with lemon and honey. I took Tylenol. I took Benadryl. I used decongestant nose sprays. My unruly sinuses were not going to get the best of me. So, on the day of surgery, I took a Benadryl and a Tylenol to mask any fever or runny nose and in I went! The entire time there I suppressed my urge to cough and kept my head back on the bed to keep my nose from running. I made it through. I.V. was inserted and into surgery I went. My med school friend will probably read this and shake his head and curse my name for my foolish actions, but c’est la vie. I lived to tell another tale for another day.

Hindsight being what it is, maybe I should have re-scheduled. But no, I’m stubborn as an ox and I will always do things my way. Coming out of surgery, I hurt. My goodness did I hurt. My chest hurt and my throat hurt. My throat felt like an angry wildcat had ravaged it. To say the least, the tube that placed down my throat for the general anaesthesia did not help out the tonal qualities of my voice. It’s Monday and I’m just starting to sound human again.

But most importantly, my boobies hurt. MAN did they hurt! I didn’t remember being in this much pain after the first surgery. Sure, I was achy, but I didn’t really HURT. I said I hurt. The nurse gave me this and that, hair of dog and eye of newt and eventually a shot of morphine. No, I still hurt. It was a subdued hurt, but a hurt all the same. Fast forward to getting home and the hurt began to return with a vengeance. That pretty much sums up how I am right now, awake since 4 am: hurting.

As for how my boobies look, they look like trussed up, sore, and angry ta-tas. And they hurt. I am supposed to go see my PS tomorrow — we’ll see what he says himself about how they look and my level of discomfort and pain. I am supposed to be leaving for Stockholm in 18 days. To say the least, this trip should prove interesting provided how much pain I am in right now and how easily I get exhausted due to the after-effects of the anaesthesia.

I apologise for the rambling of this entry. The pain killers are turning my brain into mush. If only they’d do something about the pain …