Just Call Me Beltazor
It's Day 4 post-op, and I can now get up and down off a chair (or the toilet) with ease, but getting out of bed is a different matter. Darwin went back to work yesterday, so he helped me get out of bed when he left at 4:30 a.m. and deposited me on the couch, where I could more easily maneuver myself up. Anything that requires stomach muscles is still strictly off limits. No picking up my precious kitties, though yesterday I started to be able to bend over just enough to pet the tops of their heads.
I'm running out of pain pills, so I've started rationing them. No sense taking one last night before bed because then it would just be wasted on sleep-time. Today my plan is to space them out from every four hours to every six. Let's see ... I took one at 7 a.m., so I have 2 more hours to go.
I don't know when I'll get to go back to work. My mom made her gall bladder surgery recovery sound like a breeze and a half, so I figured I'd be back by Wednesday. Ha. My mom must be one tough broad. This sucks. And a half.
The doctor's orders are I can't drive until Friday when I go back to see him, and if I'm hopped up on pain pills, driving is probably not such a hot idea. I don't know. I already missed so much work leading up to this surgery that I feel really guilty missing a whole week again. Plus, I'm bored! If I watch one more episode of Charmed, I think I might turn into a demon with a ridiculous name.