... down the drain. Goneish. Yay.
I called my regular pain clinic last Monday because I just couldn't handle the pain and the puking anymore. Surprisingly, they said "Is Friday good?" FUCK yeah! The doc even wrote me another pain med scrip to hold me out till then.
Friday: HUGE storm rolls in. Tornado watch, Severe Thunderstorm Warning, Flash Flood Warning. Panic wonders what will happen if I'm on the table and they're shoving the needles into my skull and the power goes out. Like any normal person, I'm terminally afraid of hearing a doctor say "Oooops."
But the storm cell passed, leaving a few hour period between it and the next one, and things went off without a hitch.
Feeling pretty good, considering. I can actually open my eyes without light causing stabbing pain, and the uber headaches are absent. The back of my head aches a bit, but when you think about how many needles got poked around in there, that makes sense. Next 48 hours will be touch and go with pain as my body reacts to the intrusion there, but I've got ice packs and pain drugs, so I should be all right.
It's nice, to not feel like my brain is going to ooze out through my eye sockets.
Got another scrip for pain meds that I haven't even bothered to fill. Awesome!
Saturday: Watched some J-Horror, and slept a lot. YAWNING a lot. Now that was cool. Tired. Tired because my body is recovering and trying to heal and make up for lost sleep, instead of just being overall exhausted. Took it easy most of the day, did a little shopping with a kidlet to get some entertainment, got food -- and was actually HUNGRY -- then snoozed. A lot.
Sunday: Tired. So tired. But it's tired in a good way, it's the healing kind of tired, instead of overall exhaustion. The kind of tired where I actually YAWN. My body is trying to heal itself, and make up for the lack of quality sleep. Another day or two, and hopefully I'll be caught up and back on track.
Running a low-grade fever, which is nothing to be concerned about with me. It's just how my body reacts to 'abuse' like having multiple needles shoved into my skull. Nothing serious, nothing high-grade or over 100, just enough to feel a bit under the weather.
But I'm down to just one prescription pain med, instead of several drugs in combination, and my stomach is already much happier. Reflux is behaving to the point that I've only had to take Prilosec once since Friday, and that was because I got a little carried away with the "OMFG I'm HUNGRY!!!" and ate things that irritated my stomach. Yes, I'm actually hungry again, and keeping food down without massive nausea.
Haven't had to use the icepack for tenderness on the back of my skull since Friday, which is great. I'm sleeping in any position I want without owies there. And other than the fact that the sun was out yesterday for the first time in days withou any cloudcover, light isn't bothering me. THAT kind of bright bothers me even when I don't hurt, since my eyes are over-photosensitive and always have been.
I should even be able to endure the noise and light of a movie theater next weekend if DG comes home.
Still haven't filled the pain meds. I don't really need them, and I had some left over from earlier in the week. I <3 my nerve blocks.
Right now, I just want to snuggle up in bed with someone that appreciates J-Horror and watch a few movies so I don't feel as bad about dozing off in the middle of the day for a well-earned nap.
Yawn. Night night.
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.
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.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment