Veni, Vidi, Ventus --
The randomly chaotic and crafty scribblings of a deranged, wannabe artist allowed too many colours in her Crayon box.

Surgeon General's Warning: Some content of "From Pooka's Crayon" may not be suitable for: work, blue-haired little old ladies, the politically-correct, rabid moonbats, uptight mothers, priests, chronic idiots, insurance claims agents, Democrats, children, small furry quadropeds from Alpha Centauri, or your sanity.

Thursday, July 20, 2006

Post-Op Update

I'm home.

The initial local has worn off, and the sites are a little sore, not bad. Got an icepack on it now, lounging in bed.

BUT ....

My head doesn't hurt.

I mean Does Not Hurt. I can turn my head without turning my entire body, and pain doesn't explode. I can look up. I can look down. I can COUGH without my head detonating. For the first time in a year (without the one day where I had benefits of morphine), my head DOESN'T HURT.

Still a little fuzzy from the Versed, but otherwise, things are looking pretty shiny.

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