Still Speaking in Superlatives

Last night as Jon tried to get me to stop talking and go to sleep, he said I was still not acting like myself. I am too effusive, without a filter. I keep saying things that are possibly outsized, not precisely true.  Oh well, blame it on the drugs.  I have never had so many drugs in me so perhaps this is the drugged version of me.

We came home last night.  As I expected, the ride home was the hardest part. I hate all those bumps and I complained relentlessly. Jon tried so hard to drive slowly and carefully and I was not appreciative enough.  We were going to come straight home but we got to a place where the road was stopped by an accident so we turned around and went to the Kaiser pharmacy for my latest antibiotics. That wasn't so bad.

After getting out of the car like a really infirm old person, I went all the way up the stairs to our bedroom.  I can do stairs, hooray.  Brushed my teeth and got into bed. What a great bed.  It has always been a great bed but last night it was the best bed ever (see?).  Jon had a lot of work to do, getting all my bazillions of pills organized and on a schedule.  While I slept for an hour, he made a spreadsheet with checkboxes and made everything possible for any of us to manage. 

We both got a good night's sleep despite the regular alarms to get up and take more medicine. We are sticking with the pain management regime, religiously, for one full day so we can then figure out when and how to back off of what.  The meds are working beautifully. 

When I woke up this morning, I lay there and thought, I feel so normal.  Nothing hurts.  I was afraid to move and ruin it all but eventually I had to get up to go to the bathroom. Not so bad.  Much better than the night before. It was worth it to stick to the meds overnight.

Now I am on the couch, wearing real clothes, drinking my hot yucky, ingesting antibiotics and vitamins and pain meds and feeling pretty dang good. 

It is not clear to me that I will have anything interesting to report to the world until we get the pathology report in a few weeks, so even if I keep writing because that's what I do, I will not be insulted if most of you stop checking in for a while.  I mean, really, how much news can there be from the couch?

They said after I stop taking the Tramadol I will be allowed to drive (something like a week from now).  No one mentioned anything about when I would be allowed to drive a golf cart to go and check on the farm.  I will of course wait until I stop feeling dizzy and I won't be silly, but I will be glad to be able to go and look at the progress in the greenhouse and to see how things are growing in the hoop houses. Can't lift anything over ten pounds for a month.  That is the most interesting of all the limits because it will truly change what I can do.

Anyway, I am feeling great and we will figure out how long these drugs should continue to be the source of my sense of well-being.  Still haven't pooped, which is expected, and I promise I won't tell you all those details but I am not too worried.  Plenty of evidence of progress.

I bet I will be ready for brief visits in the next few days. Today I am happy to be quiet here with NPR and quick check-ins from my family.  We will learn soon how Jon might like some help but first we have to see how much trouble I am.  We will let everyone know when it seems good to come and say hi.

It feels SO good not to be tied down with IV lines and beeping monitors.  I can just get up whenever I want and walk all around wearing my own clothes.  Soon I will see if I can sit in a chair. 

Thanks to all of you for doing so much good with your thoughts and prayers.  Powerful.