Woof. Y’all, it’s been a tough day. Admittedly I am also being a big whiny baby, but letting myself indulge in whiny baby-osity has provided more relief than any of these meds, so I’m not apologizing. Apparently it’s totally normal to feel more worse on the third or fourth day after surgery, which is a fun fact of which I had been unaware until very early this morning. After waking up to pain that felt like someone had been digging for lost items in my empty tooth sockets, I turned to Google to confirm, via totally reliable and indisputable anecdata, what I suspected – that I obviously had an untreatable infection which would cause my jaw to fall off any second. Once I came to terms with my imminent demise I spent the hours of 2-4:30 AM mindlessly trolling the internet and commenting on strangers’ blogs with reckless abandon (ok, I commented on two strangers’ blogs, but as someone who is not inclined to initiate human contact with strangers that felt pretty reckless). Eventually I gave up, took a second oxycodone, and fell into a half-sleep for a few hours; I woke up to a dog nose snorfling my face around 7:30.
Still in pain, grumpy as hell, and pretty delirious, I resigned myself to the fact that I wasn’t getting back to sleep, so I grabbed my phone to check my email – and with that little ding of new messages came a slap in the face from Bank of America and a stark reminder of one decidedly un-fun aspect of unemployment: my checking account was overdrawn. You guys, I fucking lost it. I mean, I know I’m not raking in a surplus of cash right now, but I was not expecting a negative number, and it hit hard. So, because I am an emotionally well-adjusted adult, I curled into the fetal position and sobbed for a while. Effective problem-solving!
Eventually I managed to pull myself together, but I’ve spent the rest of the day in pain and in a funk. I doubled the recommended dosage of my painkillers, which didn’t eliminate the pain but did leave me woozy and stumbling, so when I finally emerged into the daylight to walk Murray, blinking and disheveled, I’m sure I presented quite the image to all the stay-at-home parents and retirees cheerfully enjoying their coffee on their front porches. I successfully made a smoothie without losing a finger or causing a banana-explosion, and I managed two short, fretful naps. On a more productive note, I started my application for subsidized health insurance (thanks, Obama!) but I had to put that on pause because there were more steps than my feeble brain could handle today. After my “dinner” (a protein shake of dubious flavor), I treated myself to a beer, prescription warning labels be damned. I’m celebrating the little victories today. Here’s hoping tomorrow holds less pain, and maybe even solid foods.