Nothing Hurts Like Your Mouth

And so other than the drooling, the horribly chapped lips, the complete numbness of my lower lip and chin, the really icky swelling, and the general pain of it all, it's really not that bad!

When I checked in at the hospital, I was 151.1 pounds (yeah, that's right, I ate whatever the hell I wanted to - what then??) This morning I stepped on the scale and I was 142. Who wants to bet that my doctor's estimate of a 15-pound weight loss is going to be a little off?

Monday night was profoundly nice - we went to Cheesecake Factory for Travis' birthday dinner (I had a big salad - isn't that sad, but that was really what I wanted for my last meal) and came back to the house and worked out. I found out at my appointment on Monday that I would have to take it easy and avoid strenuous exercise for two to four weeks at least, so I got a last ride out of my system - I normally HATE training in front of people, but I had to get up that last good sweat. We watched Bad Santa, just kind of killed some time. And yeah, for the record, I could not sleep at ALL the night before the surgery - I just laid there kind of freaking out about how I would come out looking. And yes, I did look like the Elephant Man's little sister for a day or two, but now it's a tiny bit better. Slowly but surely.

Putting stuff in my mouth is a profound pain in the ass. They could not have given me larger painkillers (why can't they make Darvocet in liquid form?), so I've been sticking with the Advil, and even that's a trick.

If you call and you can't understand me, I'm sorry. But I'm pretty incomprehensible right now.

Lots of TV, lots of DVDs, lots of books, lots of rest. That's going to be my routine for a while.

They wired my mouth shut for a day after the surgery. That's pretty much the worst thing EVER - it's amazing what you can whittle down to being important when you have to write any thought you have. And can I just tell you how long it takes a nurse to get a bathroom ready for you when you're not able to just open your mouth and say, "Seriously, lady, I REALLY have to pee like, right this second!!" Luckily, Travis got very good at reading the desperation in my eyes and seeking out nurses who go missing. (The night nurse rocked my face, but the rest of them I could have lived without.)

Absolute worst part of the whole hospital experience, though, had to be The Tube. They put this breathing tube in, but since they had to work in my mouth, the tube had to go down my nose...and that had to stay put until about 2:00 p.m., though I still haven't figured out why it had to stay in place that freaking long. A very long, very thick tube, up my nose, down my throat, and judging by how long it took to pull out, I'd have to say coming to an end somewhere around my ankle. Avoid these at all costs - the nose bleeds for about two days afterward. And pulling that bitch out - Travis had a fit because I wouldn't let him watch (weirdo) but I think that's the point at which I almost jumped out of bed and kicked the nurse's ass, and he got a good laugh out of that.

The man slept in a recliner next to my hospital bed all night rather than leaving me alone and going back to the house for a good night's rest. That's a pretty damned good friend.

And speaking of damned good friends - thanks to everyone for the voicemails, text messages, emails, and comments. Even if I didn't respond (believe me, I would LOVE to), I want you to know how much that all meant.

Happy birthday to Travis - 23 today!