Hey, kids. I just wrote two e-mails and one LJ post without making any terrible amount of pain killer-induced typos, so I think I'm ready to type this up...But again, minor typos and grammatical mistakes, I'm SORRY! I'm not quite myself yet.
So I went in Wednesday morning to get my tonsils out, right? Everything went fine with that, I came out of it feeling all right, had a popsicle at the hospital, was brought home to sleep. The doctor gave me liquid vicodin to take and also warned me that around 6 PM, the topical anesthetic would wear off, so it would probably start to hurt a little more, but the vicodin would help that. So Wednesday, everything was mostly OK. I slept a lot and tried to drink fluids.
Thursday it started to get worse, which I wasn't expecting. I was trying to drink fluids, but it was REALLY hard. I started coughing up mucus, which they also said was normal, so I didn't worry too much about it other than it was really gross. By Thursday night, I was having so many problems swallowing that it literally took me about 1/2 an hour to get down the tsp. of vicodin. It wasn't so much that it HURT swallow, because while it did, it felt more like I just COULDN'T swallow. My throat was swelling, and everything was getting bad. My parents started worrying about CJ coming down, and at this point, I knew the weekend plans probably weren't going to be happen, but I just figured I was having a slow recovery...
On Friday, things got much worse again. Dad kept trying to make me drink, and I couldn't. I really just couldn't. It was immensely painful and difficult. CJ got here around 11 AM and had to watch with pity as I constantly spit up mucus and my own saliva, because I couldn't swallow it. Dad called the doctor who prescribed a steroid to bring the swelling down, but unfortunately it was in a pill form (wtf, right?), so Daddy crushed it up into pudding, which I had enormous difficulty eating.
At this point I should explain the pain scale, eh? Anyone familiar with it, skip this section. The pain scale rates your pain for 0 - 10, 0 being no pain at all, 5 being moderate pain, and 10 being absolutely the worst pain imaginable. The doctor's goal is to keep you around a 2 or a 3.
All day Friday, I was around an 8. At two points on Friday I was at, like, a 9.7 - CJ witnessed both of these moments, when I had coughing attacks and was sobbing and convulsing and trying not to die, basically. Poor CJ for seeing all of this grossness. My Daddy didn't want to take me into the hospital, though, because he assumed that I just wasn't drinking enough and said that all they would do was give me fluids through an IV. That was fine by me, I just wanted to go!
When my Mom got home, she threatened to bring me into the hospital, at which point CJ explained to her that I had already asked to go. Mom thought that was pretty odd, considering I HATE doctors and it would take an AWFUL lot for me to willingly admit myself into the hospital. So after some calls to the doctors and such, my parents, CJ, and I headed off to Central DuPage again.
Skipping all the details, they put me on an IV as soon as I got there and I started feeling almost instantly better. Not only was it hydration, but it was dilaudid for pain and an anti-inflammatory drug which worked WONDERS. I hadn't been able to speak for almost two days, and within 1/2 an hour, I could whisper full sentences. The doctors in the ER determined that my tonsilectomy wound, through no fault of my own btw, had become infected. It was yellow and oozing and REALLY gross from what I understand (though I didn't get to see it, my mom had the doctor show her). So they admitted me overnight.
Poor CJ, who was so good through all of this, went back to my place with my parents and stayed in my room all alone. I felt awful for that. I tried to sleep at the hospital, which I had done little of previously, because of the pain. The next morning, CJ came back out and spent nine hours sitting next to my hospital bed. It was absolutely the nicest thing in the world for him to do. All day Saturday I was still around a 6 on the pain scale, and nurses were coming in and out with more IV bags and taking my vitals and stuff, and I could hardly talk, but CJ stayed there and held my hand. I couldn't ask for anyone more special in my life. There just aren't words to thank him enough for that, it means so much to me.
So by Saturday night my new doctor said I could be released if I wanted to, or, if I felt up to it, I could go home then. I didn't feel up to it, though, especially since I didn't want my first time at home to be at night. I knew I wouldn't get any sleep, and I felt like I needed to be on the IVs more, and I was really worried about getting worse as soon as I came home. So my family went home, CJ stayed with me and we watched "The Man Who Knew Too Much," and then he left around 10:30 to go back to my house and I went to sleep.
So Sunday comes. At this point, my pain's around a 5 without meds and a 3 with meds, which is pretty good. The doctor gave me pills, but they are SO miniscule that I was fine swallowing them. I was starting to try and eat pudding and soup and stuff. So the doc stops by in the morning and releases me, and unfortunately, CJ had to head back to Peoria. My dad came in and got me all checked out and all, and now I'm home.
Since coming back home, I'm feeling better every day instead of worse, which is a friggin' Godsend. I threw up twice Sunday night from a bad reaction to my new antibiotic, but it hasn't happened since, so it's not a big deal. It hurt a lot, but it's not a big deal. (: Charleen dropped by with a card, which I'm very thankful for. (I love my Leeny!) Almost all of my family has called, the Simmons's have called, and many people have left me on-line wishes to get better. So I'm trying! Yeesh! I'm moved from a liquid diet to a soft diet, so I've been having, like, mashed potatoes and oatmeal and stuff. Not together, of course. I've actually been getting out of bed occasionally. I'm almost through season 4 of FRIENDS. And once I REALLY feel better, I have GOT to clean this room. It's awful.
So today's Tuesday, and I'm hoping to be back to my almost-normal self by late Thursday, I would say. I don't mean with eating, just with feeling better. I feel awful for ruining the whole weekend with CJ (we had such fun plans!), and I told him that if I'm up to it, I'll come down Saturday or so. I'm sure I'll be up to it, I'm just not sure if I'll be ready to drive that far. I'm still a little spacey, you know? But we'll see what happens. I start work again on Monday...
So, the moral of this story is that botched tonsilectomies SUCK. Like, that hurt more than anything in the world I think. I told CJ it was worse than childbirth, and he said he would hold that statement against me when the time comes, but seriously, at least you can breathe and swallow during childbirth. My poor throat.
Thanks to those who've been around to take care of me while all this is going on: My parents of course, Matthew, CJ, Leeny for the card, and Lizzy for the brief phone call while I could sort of talk. Everyone leaving nice messages online, of course. God, for not killing me, cause that would have sucked.
Off to lay down again now. EL FIN. *takes a bow*
I am so sick of myself it's ridiculous. Sounds pessimistic, eh? I kept telling myself that I would be fine, once I got into a routine. And I know I'm not fully in a routine yet, what with JUST starting work, and not even seeing the Simmi's once yet. But even now, while I'm easing into a routine, nothing's getting easier. I still want to get out of Lombard, I still miss my school friends, and I still miss CJ. I miss what seems like ages ago and was really only weeks ago when even if I wanted to be alone, I knew I didn't have to be. Now, even if I want companionship, there's no one around. I miss walking into Airport and knowing people, or playing 4-square if I'm bored, or nightly rehearsals. I miss having commitments that extend outside of the work day. Most of all, I miss being within walking distance from CJ and knowing that no matter what happened, everything would be fine because I would see him that night.
I'm starting to feel like none of that is real anymore. I talk to CJ on the phone and it's like he's just a voice. I see my friends and everything's great, but as soon as they're gone, it feels like they were never here. I'm great while I'm at work, but as soon as I leave, I'm back to feeling lonely.
It doesn't help that I've been in almost constant pain for the past few months, and now that it's getting towards the end, it's only getting worse. My throat feels like it's closing and there's nothing I can do to stop it. It hurts to swallow and it hurts to breathe, and all I want to do is jam scissors in my mouth and take out my tonsils myself. The antiobiotic I was given yesterday hasn't helped at all yet, and until the 16th, I'm stuck feeling sore, and tired, and cranky. And once my tonsils are out I'll probably still be sore, and tired, and cranky. And once my throat completely heals, who knows how I'll feel. Hopefully by then I'll have enough of a routine to start to feel like a normal person. And I'll have just seen Lizzy, Tirza, and CJ, so maybe I'll be better. I have to call Heather and make plans with her, which will be fun, and once I feel better, I'll see Liz as well. Hopefully, I'll start baby-sitting soon.
Maybe I'll feel better when I have money. If I can pay my dad back, it will be a huge load off of my shoulders. If I can make it through the summer and still have enough money to get through the semester, I'll be happy. If I can afford to buy myself something pretty once in a while, I'll be thrilled. Is that so much to ask?
Maybe I just need to get out of here...