We're staying in a beautiful section of Boston called Brookline. Fun stores, lots of cute restaurants, all easy to walk to. Not that I'm doing much walking but at least Mommy and Chris can get out for a little while.
I love pain pills. They gave me a whole slew of Oxycodon. All I keep thinking is, the fewer of these I take right now, the more I have to sell on the black market later. I wonder what the going rate for Oxy is on the street right now?? Could buy me another pair of Loubies!! It turns out though, that I stopped taking the pain medicine after the second day. First, it doesn't really hurt. I'm more uncomfortable. Moving my midsection feels awkward. And second, the pain pills are not as much fun as I expected. I was thinking I would be out like a light, but it turns out I was about 75% asleep and could still sort of tell what was going on. Either I could perceived parts of the conversations my mom and husband were having, or I was still a little keyed into the show Chris was watching on TV. I would wake up after two hours of "sleep" and know what I missed in that time. That's not really sleeping.
The other problem is, while I was "pretend sleeping" I was having these crazy dreams. There was a black tie gala in the basement of Central Market in Lancaster with the Kirk Family doing Cirque De Soleil type entertainment.
The next night I dreamt I was breast feeding a tiny newborn boy who I think belonged to me, then took him for a walk around the neighborhood with Beth and Rebecca and it started raining. All I kept thinking was, it's probably too cool out here for this baby. I should go inside and put more clothes on him.
The last one I remember included a road race through Lancaster that required each person run with a dog and a color coded t-shirt. My shirt was green but I didn't have either of my dogs and I was walking around looking for strays to run with.
Like I said - weird.
So, I'm sleeping a bit, reading a bit, watching some TV and waiting to heal. The only outward signs that I've had surgery are my fat lip and the steri strips on my belly. The fat lip is from the asshole anesthesia resident who put me to sleep. First, it took him 3 sticks to get my IV started. My nurse mother hit the ceiling when she noticed he had to try AGAIN! And then when the dipshit put the tube in my mouth it must have leaned on my lip and caused a big fat lip that is still numb. When I woke up, I had very little abdominal pain but could tell that my lip was fat. I said to my mom, "Is my lip fat?" but it sounded more like "is my wip fad?" because it was in fact too puffy for me to form those words correctly. (Envision me trying to speak normally but having trouble because my bottom lip is jutting out about an inch and a half. It wasn't pretty.)
The steri strips are keeping my little holes shut. No need for stitches apparently. My little (or deep) belly button has a some dried blood in it, but not too bad. My gut is not going to look good in a bikini, but let's be honest - it hasn't looked good in a bikini since 2004. When that metabolism slows down in your mid-20's, it really slows down. It will be a Victoria's Secret Miracle Bathing Suit for me! Thank goodness they make those, because I need a miracle. But before I cover the Budda Belly for the last time, here's a semi-gross look at what I'm sporting now.
At least it's not a topless picture, like Kate Middleton's! (The poor princess ... and what small, perky boobies she has!)
