It’s been a while since I actually got things done around here, but yesterday I got up from my desk after work, rounded up all the assorted glasses, cups, and cutlery around the place, loaded the dishwasher, cleaned the sink and counters, stacked all the magazines and then went back to my daily routine: Lying on the couch with a heating pad on the sore side of my spine, watching TV until I fell asleep.
But wait, there’s more! I reheated half a hamburger from yesterday’s lunch, and threw some potatoes in the air fryer for some crispy fries. Woo hoo! Watched the impossibly sad and traumatic season finale of Will Trent, and here I am: Still awake!
I feel like one of those women who have been ordered to bed rest during pregnancy. There’s not a lot to do. I read a lot, I watch a lot of TV. Two of my favorite activities.
Maybe it’s my imagination, but the closer it gets to the surgery date, the harder it gets to tolerate the pain. I called the nurse navigator to ask for more Tramadol, but she said I could only get it refilled from the person who ordered it. (You know, the surgeon I, uh, terminated. He originally ordered 30, but the CVS would only fill half of that without “prior authorization”.) Naturally!
So I’d probably be a lot more functional if I had enough pain meds. But playing hurt is, after all, the American way.
