The good, the bad and the ugly.

Funny, as I typed that subject line, my thought was "Too bad I just can't call this post 'The Pathetic'". True story. Because it, and by association, I, am nothing short of pathetic this week.

I recommend never growing cysts on your tailbone, I really do. In fact, I cannot recommend that enough. (The only thing I'd put a higher stress on not growing would be a malignant tumor. Yeah, they're THAT bad.)

I live to serve as a medical warning voice to all.

So, here's the scoop:

I went in for an outpatient procedure on Tuesday morning. I was promptly given an IV in my left hand, which blew the vein and started leaking medicine right in to the back of my hand. ... Awesome. (Not.) I sucked it up (after crying for just a minute, because it hurt, man, and let them IV my right hand. Moments later, I was wheeled off for surgery. Thankfully, I was blissfully unaware of what was going on for the next couple hours of my life. I woke up in Recovery, flat on my back, wanting to scream bloody murder. The sweet little nurses thought I was in pain because I needed more Demoral. ... Uh, no, I was in pain because they had my lying flat on my back, against the incision site. ... Once I was able to grab the side of the hospital bed and lift myself over onto a hip and she could see the carnage that was my backside, that sweet little Recovery nurse stopped pushing Demoral and got me a horse shot of Percocet. (That's better.) They wanted to wheel me to the car. I laughed (a cruel, harsh laugh, a laugh the likes of which I hope none of you ever have to hear come out of me) and told her that was some pretty good crack she was smoking. No way was I sitting down in a recliner and being wheeled to the car. I'd walk, or die trying.

I walked to the car. (Which is kind of a given, that I didn't die trying, as I'm typing this now.) The car ride home was rough. I just sat in the back seat of the van and held on to the handle in front of me to try and maintain my weight. No amount of donuts or pillows would have helped with that pain. Once I was home, I came up and went to bed.

Tuesday night I felt pretty decent. Sore, but not destitutely so. I slept fairly well that night, so I had high hopes for Wednesday. ... Uh, those hopes were in vain. Wednesday was pretty much one of the worst days ever. I'm not sure exactly why, but I think it may have had something (more than a little something) to do with having realized that I have gauze sewn into my bum. ... Yeah, you read that right. We'd been told that we'd need to change the outer bandaging every day, but that there was some gauze and packaging that would stay put until I met with the doctor the next week to have stitches removed. Neither my mom or I had heard the words "stitched in", so we were pretty surprised (and horrified, and also amused) to find big loopy stitches through gobs of white gauze, affixing said gauze to ... uh ... me.

Holy awkward moment, Batman! (And this does explain why I have such a busy/pointy bum right now. There's a wad of gauze shoved in there, dudes!)

The last two days have been a little easier. Thursday was, by far, the darkest "Why in the world did I think it would be a good idea to have yet another surgery in my life?" day. I literally slept through yesterday (All hail the mighty drugs that make sleep possible), and today, I am pleased report that I finally pooped. (My mom loves it when I post news like that.) But listen, it was a major victory. I no longer have to be afraid that the stitches will keep my feces a part of me forever. Also, I set little mini-food goals when I'm on the constipation teeter-totter. Now that I've pooped, I'm allowed to eat cheese and fried chicken! (Yup, that's an actual bribe that I have to use on myself. It's the grown up version of getting a Tootsie Pop for going poo-poo on the potty,)

So... Five days later. I'm not feeling awesome yet. But I'm feeling a heck of a lot better than I did two days ago, and I'm hopeful that next week, when I have the first round of stitches (and the infamous gauze) removed, life will get even better.

Until then, I'm watching copious amounts of TV on DVD from the comfort of my couch. I lie on my right side for about two hours, then when my hips and ear can't take the pressure anymore, I flip to the other end of the couch. And my friend The Ice Pack is a constant couch companion. How in the world I'd live without him, I'm sure I don't know. Those gel ice packs are worth their weight in gold, people!

And that having been said, I'm pretty sure I have a Burn Notice DVD and a chilled gel pack calling my name...