Category: WWdN in Exile

I’m probably a few days year behind on this, but The People’s Mario is awesome.

Yesterday, I woke up feeling about 50% of normal. It’s the closest I’ve felt to normal since I went in for surgery, so it was a huge improvement. I got all the way up to about 70% by the late afternoon, but was back down to 50% by the time I went to bed.

I feel pretty much the same, this morning (maybe slightly better than last,) and all kinds of brown goo is coming out of my nose, so I guess I’m healing up and my body is kicking shit out that needs to get out. This is probably why I’m feeling steadily better.

I miss writing and blogging, but I have to assume that following my doctor’s instructions and fully embracing Operation Do Absolutely Nothing But Watch TV And Sleep has a lot to do with the massive turn for the better I’ve taken in the last 24 hours.

I almost ruined everything, though, last week. Anne was out at a class, and my back was hurting from sitting at a 30 degree angle for several days in a row, so I thought I’d take a warm bath to relax it. Still hopped up on painkillers and shit, I made the bath too hot, and by the time I realized that I was sweating like Roger Ebert (about 15 minutes later) and got out, the damage had been done: the hot water relaxed my back, but it also relaxed all the blood vessels in my body — including the ones in my sinuses that we want to keep, uh, not relaxed and not bleeding — and was, according to my doctor, "the absolute worst thing" I could have done for recovery. In 15 minutes, I undid about a week’s worth of healing, had a massive sinus headache, blood coming out of my face, and generally felt like shit.

I was furious with myself for being so stupid, which raised my blood pressure, which made me bleed more, which made me more mad, which made my headache worse . . . you can see where this is going. It took me two days to fully calm down and accept that I did something profoundly stupid, had nobody to blame but myself, and would just have to wait it out until my body undid the damage and put me back where I was before The Bathtub Incident.

(Oh, and for a big bonus, the swelling I gave myself made me snore again, pretty much canceling out one of the main reasons I had the surgery in the first place, and forcing me out of my own bed so Anne could get a good night’s sleep, which she needs now more than ever, because she is doing literally everything in our house while I sit on the couch.)

So when I woke up yesterday morning, feeling better than I have in the last three weeks, it was worthy of some celebration! I moved from one side of the couch to the other, and there was much rejoicing.

I feel congested on the left side this morning, which is where my body is dumping the brown goo. I’m pretty sure this qualifies as progress, but it’s also kind of gross. I was hoping to upgrade my status today to 60% of normal or better, but I think I have to be realistic and stay at 50%. At least I don’t feel irritable and irrational any more. That was really getting to be a problem for me.

I see my doctor again tomorrow, and if everything looks good, I’m supposed to get my stitches and splints out, and there will probably be some vacuuming of goo out of my head as well. If I’m real lucky, I’ll be cleared to drive and start getting back to my life.

Oh! I’ve been able to fucos enough to read again, so I’ve been re-reading Dark Knight Returns (in Absolute form) and I started The Atrocity Archives. The Atrocity Archives is fucking brilliant, and as much fun to read as advertised. I highly recommend it.

It’s absolutely beautiful here today. I think I’ll suspend Operation Just Watch TV and throw the switch on Operation Sit In The Sun And Read A Book On The Patio For An Hour Or So.

I saw the doctor yesterday, and he used that thing from Total Recall to suction about 90 pounds of extremely disgusting stuff out of my head. (Please note that certain aspects of these reports may be exaggerated for various reasons, mostly because I find them amusing.)

He told me that I have to continue Operation Do Nothing At All, I Mean
It Nothing At All And I Am Not Even Joking About This for another week, at which time he’ll take the
splints off my septum and probably clear me for driving and other
normal activities, which makes me even happier than my impending return
to Guinness consumption.

My sinuses look good, and most of the discomfort that was lingering has gone away, so I’m finally off all the pain meds and things that were making me feel stupid and disoriented and, well, like an idiot on drugs. My strongest painkiller now is extra strength Tylenol.

I still get tired easily, and I’m still easily irritated and irrationally annoyed by random things, so staying off the internets is probably a good idea for the next few days. My doctor says that this is also entirely normal and part of the recovery process, which is quite comforting and makes me feel less looney.

So, since it’s unlikely I’ll be updating my blog for a bit, I found the perfect picture to leave here for a few days:

I feel happy! I feel happy!

In all seriousness, I’m recovering at exactly the right pace, according to people who keep score on this sort of thing.

Warning: this is about to get gross.

I’m off all the meds, except for some stupid steroid for swelling that makes me really fucking irritable and regular Tylenol for this very minor headache that I guess is also pretty normal, once you’ve had a bunch of stuff the size of a Weighted Companion Cube yanked out of your head, and a "major septoplasty". Oh! and the most awesome thing? The stuff that looks like chicken liver that comes out of my nose about four times a day.

My doctor says I have some kind of post-surgical hypertension, which is why I can’t do a damn thing other than sit here and watch movies for another three or four days, so I’m starting to get <i>really</i> bored and antsy. And irritable. Goddamn am I irritable. So don’t fuck with me, or I’ll shoot chicken liver at you from my nose gun.

Oh! You know what I learned a whole bunch about on TV yesterday? Trains during wartime and secret underground Cold War tunnels. Exactly WTF I’m going to do with this knowledge, I don’t know, so I’m looking forward to removing it from my brain with Guinness once I allowed to drink alcohol again . . . in three goddamn miserable weeks, because alcohol makes me bleed, which remains bad.

Did I mention that I’m bored and irritable? Because boy, howdy.

However, I can smell things again. I can taste things again. I can sleep through the night without snoring, and I don’t regret having this surgery for a single moment. Sincerely, I don’t. And my doctor is some kind of superhero, who I think came from space and the future to carve a 4x5cm chunk of polyp-covered Horta from just one of my sinus cavities. There’s more, but I think I’ve been gross enough for one day.

Thank you, everyone, for all your get well wishes, here and at Fark. That was really, really, cool. I totally broke the "just sit here and continue to do a bunch of fucking nothing" rule during breakfast this morning so I could check up on e-mails and stuff.

I better go back to the couch. My couch groove is starting to lose its shape. Have a nice weekend, everyone.

. . . yep. But my doctor says that talking on the phone, sending e-mails, posting in my blog, and spending too any time doing much more than watching TV (I’m still too drugged up to fucos — I’m not changing the spelling on that because it’s so goddamn funny — on reading this big stack of graphic novels I bought for the recovery) raises my blood pressure dangerously high, making me bleed a lot. I guess bleeding a lot is something I’m supposed to avoid for the next few days, so it’s me, the couch, and the TV.

I’m trying to get Anne to guest post while I’m drooling on the couch and watching Modern Marvels, so maybe there will be something worth reading here in the near future.

Thanks for all the get well wishes you’ve all left in comments and sent via e-mail. That’s very kind of you all.