Oh, Misery

I haven't written since the procedure because I have been so miserable. Wait. Let me back up. Remember my first fall back in September? Well, after about 10 doctor's visits, it was decided that I would benefit from a septoplasty. I had a deviated septum before, but after the fall, it became significantly worse. I didn't think it would be that big of a deal, but man--it sucks. I had Dr. Nicholls for anesthesia. He was great. Dr. Cole was great, too, though I hardly saw him. I saw Sandy for a couple of seconds before I went to sleep, and I was glad she was my scrub. I have no idea who my circulating nurse was; I don't even remember talking to her. It took a couple of tries for the pre-op nurse to get my i.v. started, but they were running (mostly) on time, so we didn't have to wait too long. When I got on the operating table, it hit me--it's WAY different being the one operated on. The last thing I remember is taking some deep breaths through the mask, then waking up in the recovery room (Jim did his job well!). Recovery was fine, until the local anesthetic wore off. They gave me fentanyl, which was wonderful. They gave me percocet to go home on, which is nice--better than lortab, in any case. I have been alternating the percocet with ibuprofen to try and keep on top of the pain. Plus, I got a cold on top of all the nose stuff, so I'm not bleeding from my nose anymore, I'm just trying to keep the snot and the coughing under control. Blech. I have a ton of packing in my nose, and some kind of latex stent or something. I'd really like to blow my nose. And breathe through it. And not keep a drip pad taped underneath it. But I signed up for it, so I have no one but myself to blame. Dr. Cole said that, when it's all done, I'll be able to 'park a jet in there.' Uh, somewhat comforting, and a little disturbing. I hope it helps with the snoring and stuff, even if it sucks right now. We decided to go to Logan so we could have some extra help with Benji. Mom has been a godsend, chasing after him, feeding him, changing him, etc., while I snooze. I have been sleeping in Dad's la-z-boy for the most part. It's pretty comfortable, but I miss sleeping on my side with pillows tucked all around me. I miss my bed. I miss my shower. I miss my husband (he went back to SLC last night, and I stayed here). I miss my car, although I shouldn't drive since I'm still on narcotics. I forget how blessed I am. It's always good to be reminded of the good things you have. Like the ability to breathe through one's nose.