I'm not defeated, but I find myself down for at least some count. Last night was quite the spectacle with me staring at the ceiling until well after midnight despite being grogged up on medications. Laying flat on my back worked for 15 minutes, then I had to shimmy and roll onto my left side for another 15 minutes. Back and forth, Back and forth, all while trying to stifle the yelp from escaping my throat as each brought on it's own discomfort. I'm craving a lounge on my belly, but incisioned boob prevent that. The boob and the back are working in opposing forces today. Because I am allergic to most pain meds, I had to take benadryl when the itching started up, with me scratching every inch of my body looking like a flea infested baboon in the process. One would think that the benadryl plus the pain meds would have had me sleeping like a baby, but instead I was more resembling a drunken sailor and quite the frustrated that sleep would not come. I laid in bed craving poses of the yoga. Downward Facing Drunken Sailor. Upward Stretching Beached Grey Seal. Sideways Facing Peacock Plume. Arching Bridge of Boob Delight. You crave that arching back with arms stretched wide! Anything but the Slice of Bacon on a Plate I was currently confined to. Sleep finally came well after midnight, which resulted in me rising from bed at almost 10 this morning. A far cry from the "go get 'em" of Monday.
Needless to say, I'm home again back to the ole sofa that I have been dating for too long and rather irritated to find myself here laid up like a slice of bacon on a plate. I surprisingly find the most comfort standing, preferably with an arched back, but one can only maintain said position for short amounts of time. And then there is the stamina issue. For icing on my pity-party cake, the nausea is back after the med doses last night and is undulating my morning. Well, nausea trumps all so I've decided the back pain is probably better than the side effects and from here on I'm trying very hard to avoid medications of anything stronger than Aleve. It's "slice of bacon on a plate" (sofa) alternated with "slice of bacon on a walk" (hallway) all while working to keep stomach contents in check.
It's never just one thing is it? There are always opposing dramas pulling us this was and that. You want it just to be a boob, or a back, or a class assignment, or a missed deadline, but more often than not the balls get played out simultaneously in your court. It creates reactions of various intensity. I was silly enough to complain about an impostor boob needing a surgery, and was naive enough to think that would be my only scene, but the scenes keep finding the page and the character plot thickens.
It's just a boob. It's just a back. The nooks and crannies of this story. But today in tandem they squash my spirit. The taste of freedom the last 2 days tainted me and makes me yearn for more. This afternoon is better than this morning. Progress.
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