I know that I'm a day late but honestly, I wasn't terribly coherent yesterday and as the evening progressed I got less so. I've never been a big fan of narcotics but in this situation vicoden became my best friend and honestly, we're still pretty chummy.
The whole ordeal went pretty smoothly. I never would have made it through the day without my friend Kris who managed to be supportive without being needy. She was also very reasonable whenever I'd venture too close to the poor poor me zone. And honestly, walking into the waiting room took a lot of the poor me right out of my stride, if you can call it that. People in wheelchairs with ominous lumps under their sweatshirts, mothers cradling tiny babies, an old woman who's face was a mess of bruises, a little girl, six or seven years old. All around me dozens of people who would have given a lot to be having foot surgery. The effect was pretty calming.
Everyone was really nice and my biggest complaint was the lack of privacy but I'm not sure that there are many hospitals left that have that option, especially for outpatient surgery. We sat in the curtained cubicle and watched the episode of Married With Children featuring Jerry Mather and we both laughed, dang it, that was a funny show.
As worried as I was, the actual surgery was a non-event. The ladies in the surgery were super nice, covering me with warm blankets and after breathing in some stinky stuff which made me feel really claustrophobic I was out, and the next thing I knew I was waking up with a very sore throat and a big giant cast on my foot. And that was it. The rest was nice even!
Since then the worst has been the pain. It hurts much much worse now than before the surgery and I've been completely knocked out of play. I'm hoping soon things will seem better, or at least before I run out of vicoden.
Positives for today.
1. My plaster cast (very old school) is a blank canvas, waiting for my and my students to express themselves and I know they will be excited to. I'll be posting artistic updates.
2. My new cover story. When anyone asks what happens I now say that I was kicking someones butt and got a little too enthusiastic. Delivered with an appropriate deadpan expression, there's a classic moment when they ponder if I might possibly not be kidding. Ah . . . good times.