My surgery Friday went well, thank you for asking. I recovered from the anesthesia in record time - I typically do - and requested something to drink before the nurses were ready to start me down that path. I am an overachiever when it comes to medical recovery. I also remember rambling a bit about how wonderful my mom is to the nurse on duty in the first-stage recovery area.
Saturday was spent mostly in bed. It hurts to walk, sit up straight, and stand, so "prone" is the position to be in, right now. I'm practicing my "odalisque" pose.
My mom was kind enough to entertain me with a game of Scrabble Saturday night, since I was tired of being by myself and wanted
a break from reading.
Yesterday, I decided to get out of bed, to venture downstairs to the living room, to hang out with my mom in the public spaces of the house. We played Scrabble, once again, but we played lying on the floor of the dining room, in an attempt to keep me from hurting myself.
Last night, I discovered, much to my chagrin, that my efforts from yesterday had impacted me negatively: my wound opened up and it started bleeding.
As a result, I've spent almost the entirety of today in bed, reading. Since I've devoured almost two books in the past three days - and no light Danielle Steele material either, oh no - there will be multiple book reviews this week. Please allow for the fact that the books' contents were processed through a haze of hydrocodone.