Just a quick update from recovery, for those who may be wondering. I’m still mostly lying around taking pills (2 different hormones, antibiotics, and a lovely assortment of pain meds). Having your face reconfigured is painful, not going to lie. Pretty much sums up the word “sucks”. But at least I’m able to use my limbs and go to the bathroom on my own (which I would count as a definitive plus!). More descriptive, my chin and lower jaw are swollen and sore, which makes it hard to eat and nearly impossible to exhibit any kind of facial expression (I feel like a celebrity!). My nose feels like I have the worst cold ever combined with a million tiny “owies” inside (you know, that occasional crusty or pimple inside your nostril you can’t help but pick at only to be rewarded with horrendous tear-inducing pain? yeah, feels pretty much like that all over!). I then have two scratchy sutures behind each ear and a splint sewed into my left ear….yes, I said SEWED INTO. At least it looks that way (and I’m seriously not going to exam it any closer).
So pain/discomfort is to be expected, but in my mind it doesn’t make it any more fun. I also had a rude awakening when yesterday I ran out of my oxycotin and switched to Vicodin (a poor substitution). After two calls to the surgeon and a trip to his office today, I am back on o’l Oxy (and no, I’m not sharing it!). The biggest drawback with the Oxy is having to take it with food (learned that the hard way – remember post-op day 2 puke fest?). Which means eating every 3 hours (I’m basically on a newborn schedule) except when I have to fast for my Cytomel (thyroid replacement hormone) – which means letting the pain meds leave my system. I call this my “cranky time” (which just like a newborn is around 4-5 pm).
Tomorrow I have my surgical post-op appointment and I’m shaking like a Chihuahua at a Taco Bell audition. Basically, they’re supposed to remove all the splints and bandages and “clean me up” – which will involve pulling off my nose splint, cutting the splint out of my ear, and scraping large scabs from the inside of my already sore nose (and maybe pulling out other stitches for fun). Not sure how that will not be the most miserable, tortuous experience of my life (and I can’t have alcohol). Rick suggested I wear old underwear (in the very real case that I crap in them). Maybe there will be a large object in the room that I can render myself unconscious with before they begin (one can only hope). At the very least I better get a damn sticker!