For the last 6 days I have been to five places: the hospital, my parents' house, the doctor's office, In-n-Out and Baja Fresh. Most of this time has been spent lying down or pacing aimlessly. Only the Vicodin keeps it interesting, and even that's only because for the first hour or so after I take it, it makes me loopy.
Honestly, this is making me nuts. I can't go anywhere on my own, and I only have enough energy to move around for half an hour here and there. And this is from minor surgery. God, I don't remember it being this irritating when they rebuilt my hand. Of course, then, I had to take finals on painkillers. I got good grades that time, but it was all sympathy. After the fact, most of my professors told me I needn't really have shown up for the tests. Cool huh? Not to be ungrateful, but a little advanced warning would have been nice.
This time around, it's simpler. I scheduled this one. I planned my absence from work, did the pre-op visits and read up on the procedure and recovery. The doctor braced me to be mostly immobile and in agony for two weeks. Fine, I'm a highly trained athlete, I can take it.
Thing is, it didn't start to hurt until yesterday, day-friggin'-five. And even now, it's only a dull roar. So yeah, I'm climbing the walls, or I would be if my leg worked. Oh well, at least I paid for the privilege, right?