Well I thought I looked cute. We also did some pictures of the not so cute parts of me.
Okay, I realize nothing looks bad. But people, please realize that all the work was done on the INSIDE. Stitches, cutting out scar tissue, yanking things, moving things, stitching more things, adding human tissue to reinforce things. Ugh. My stomach is also a big bloated, swollen mess of mush.
And you know where my almost biggest pain is from? My shoulders. They pumped so much air into my body so they could work, and it was in there for so long, that it is trapped and causing a lot of pain. Ouch and boo.
When we set off for the doctor's office I was only in a little pain, but the car ride really did me in. I couldn't even stand to check myself in and Josh had to do it for me. Got back to the room and it was the really nice nurse. Dr. Prats came in soon and we started talking. About 3 seconds into our talk I started crying. Oh god. I HATE crying in front of people. And I HATE that it probably made him feel bad.
I was just in SO MUCH PAIN. All that frustration led me to cry more and both the doctor and nurse were super sympathetic. I am very thankful they weren't upset with me. I was prescribed more pain medication - this time vicodin - told to come back in three weeks and to just take my time and heal. No rush, I needed to take my time and it was okay that I wasn't bouncing back immediately. This surgery was very intense with more work than anticipated.
My mom had told me all this the day before, but it made me feel better to hear it from the doctor. I know I know. Sorry mom.
After the appointment, Josh took me home, got me all situated (can I seriously nominate him for husband of the century??) and went back to work. We agreed I'd be okay with the rest of the percoset until he got home from work. I got so bored and frustrated and keyed up yesterday I asked Josh if I could go to Target with him to get my prescription when he got home from work.
This is where my story turns kind of funny and really really gross. It made my mom laugh hysterically, but I am an even better in person story teller than on here. So you're only getting half the funniness.
Seriously, really really gross. Continue reading at your own risk. I've warned you.
Josh told me it would be too much for me to be at Target. I didn't listen.
So we get to Target and Josh goes to make a return while I lean on a cart and make my way back to the pharmacy. Josh beat me there. Even with a return *sigh*.
I sit on the bench while Josh puts in my prescription and they told us 20-25 minutes. We then worked our way back to the men's clothing section so Josh can find a new pair of wind pants. He wanted to try them on so I found a bench in the shoe section and flopped. Now Josh had told me he didn't bring his cell phone so don't go anywhere.
After about two minutes of sitting there I HAVE to go. Like I have to poop. And it has to happen RIGHT NOW. I try as hard as I can not to poop my pants and then Josh shows up. I tell him what is going on and that we have to go RIGHT NOW. The bathroom is at the front of the store. I am at the back. I'm in pain, not as mobile, I have trouble breathing and I have to POOP. That bathroom was MILLIONS OF MILES AWAY.
We start out to the bathroom and Josh is all "are you okay? You are kinda of pale, sweaty and have goosebumps." I was like "it's because I HAVE TO GO."
I think I almost sprinted the last little bit, but I MADE IT!
And how amazing was it that the bathroom was free of all people? I think I heard angels sing. But I'm not sure because of the awful pooping I was doing. I have been taking miraLAX, colace and benefiber to keep things moving so I don't have any issues with all this abdominal work. For some reason Target has this effect that I always feel like I have to poop. Well apparently that combined with the above cocktail - well let's all have a silent moment for that toilet.
I feel as though although it was horrible and disgusting and all of that, that I lucked out because the bathroom had no one else in it. Just as I'm about to clean up, someone comes in. Oh god. Oh no. I am slightly weak from terrible parting of my last few meals and my body. I KNOW it smells. Oh god, I am THAT person that smells up the bathroom. I can't leave. So I figure I'll let unknown person (who I will most likely never see again, so why DO I care, but I do!) pee quick, wash their hands and leave. Nothing worse than facing the person who you almost gassed to death at the sinks.
So I am waiting and then... girlfriend in the stall two down STARTS POOPING. OMG. So then there is the debate: do I wipe my ass, run to the sinks, wash my hands and hope she doesn't meet me out there - do I wait her out and hope her smell isn't worse than mine since I am not allowed to gag or cough - do I wipe my ass, go to the sinks and give her a nod if she meets me there? Do not laugh. If you are not a woman, or not a woman who has ever disgraced the "all ladies smell like roses and don't poop" then you just won't understand this dilemma.
I waited her out. I snuck out as soon as she was gone, washed my hands and departed the bathroom.
Josh asked how it was in there. I told him I just had to sit down.
My prescription was done, we paid and left.
I had to go home and lay down.
That was my most exciting day since surgery. Seriously. Super exciting.
Today I have done nothing. I've walked around the house a few times. I needed to do nothing today.
Tomorrow is a new day. I think I'll have less pain tomorrow. That's my plan.
*hugs and kisses*