It would be wonderful if I could tell you that my arm doesn’t hurt, but let me tell you – surprise! surprise! – it does! It would be even more wonderful if I could tell you that the heavy-duty pain meds I have available were really helpful in dealing with the pain, but let me tell you, they aren’t! Before you jump on the pity party band wagon, though, I want to tell you that I was prepared for this, from previous and extensive experience, and I know absolutely that it will get better every day. Knowing this makes it all bearable. It is sort of like being in labor for your second time. It still hurts like Holy Hannah, but the second time around you know the pain won’t last forever, and that there is wonderful light at the end of that dark tunnel. As my Mom always said, “This too will pass.” Hurrah!
The hospital pre-op department called me Wednesday afternoon to give me some final instructions on how to be prepared Friday for surgery. I was told to take a good shower. I told her I had planned on taking a bad one, and felt it was too late to change my plans. After all, I was already altering my life-style considerably by taking a shower two days earlier than regularly scheduled. We stay meticulously clean in my household. Every one of us takes a shower every 28 days, whether needed or not. Even though I was not yet due, I agreed for the sake of cooperation with those people to whom I was turning over my life. But really, I had two full days left before I had to take a shower! Never let it be said I am an unreasonable person. I have a question, though. Do I take my next shower 28 days from Friday, or 28 days from the day my next shower was scheduled, which is tomorrow? These are the questions that occupy my convalescing mind.
Mind jump: Guess what? I got contact lenses Thursday afternoon. Finally found an optometrist who would let me try. So far, so fantastic! They are bifocals, so the Dr. says it will take a week to ten days for my brain to adjust to the new signals it is being sent. I will be getting green tints, as my eyes are grayish-green anyway. Just think! I’ll be more gorgeous than ever – hard to imagine! Learning to put them in and remove them was a snap. The Dr. didn’t believe me when I told him I had never used them before. If he had gone home with me he would be a believer, because I almost couldn’t get one of them out I had just about convinced myself that it had fallen out somewhere along the way, and had been lost. Of course another one of the problems suffered by wearers of corrective lenses. You need glasses (or lenses) to be able to see to fix a problem with the corrective lenses. In other words, I needed my contacts in to be able to see well enough to get my contacts out. Which reminds meof another pet peeve:
Jar and bottle tops and caps. Just exactly who is the sadistic monster who invented vacuum sealed jars and bottles – or any other type of seal – that requires a live-in Jack LaLanne (may he rest in peace) to open bottles, cans, and boxes? Because I am really tired, I won’t get into it right now, but I have some choice words of rant just simmering inside of me – waiting to explode forth from moi. Be prepared. . . (I sort of wish I had let the previous sentence stand as I had originally written it. You know you are getting tired when you manage to use the phrase “right now” six times in one sentence.
So, I’m off to take a shower – oh, wait! I don’t need one yet do I? Gentle Readers, thank you all for the wealth of good wishes that have reached my e-mail in-box! They are very much aoorecuated. (I’m letting that one stand – it’s a new word my keyboard has coined, and means “appreciated.”)