Ok, so I’m an idiot. Confession of stupid:

I kiiiiinda did not expect this hernia surgery thing to hurt this much. Or at all. I mean, I thought maybe a little soreness but easily controlled with painkillers. The kids would be at their grandparents and I would sit around with painmeds and sip on soda, watch Dr. Who dvds. I thought this because lots of people told me that when you have it done laparoscopically you recover really fast. Liars! To me, fast means as close to immediately as you can get without actually being right that second.

I was going to put a picture of hernia surgery here but decided to go with another Cute Overload sloth.

Cute Overload, again.

Recovery started with me waking up to lots of medical folks running around yelling something about a fire and then someone in my face all ER like, “Sara? Sara?”<—my real name btw, mom didn’t want to put Sadie on the birth certificate because the woman I’m named after told her not to. Which is confusing enough because no one except doctors, professors and police call me Sara so I was all, “What? fire? sara?” and the nurse disappeared and came back with my doctor who confirmed my identity. But I was still all up about this fire because I was really really afraid I was going to be wheeled onto the street and put on the news. That’s what happens every time a nursing home burns down and I always feel so bad for those people waving from their beds. I would never wave. I would probably just pass out from embarrassment.

Luckily the fire thing was under control so inside I stayed. Down to recovery where they shoved a cracker in my face and said it would raise my blood pressure. A cracker. Um…

Then they sent me and my body full of pain home. Where my pain pills did not relieve body pain but instead made me super nauseous. Yay!

Then I had to sleep sitting up. What the hell was I thinking? I thought. So I had a couple hernias. Who cared? Who even cared if I had a flesh ball sticking out of my tummy? No one. I should have just left it until an intestine got strangled in it or something.

Today (two days post surgery) I feel a bit better. Moving around more and trying to figure out how to strike that Lee Dewyze picture from the blog that keeps getting annoying hits.

I hate the pace of recovery. I miss my kids. My mom has been great of course.

Share your stories of recovery. What days were the worst for you? How long does it usually take you to get over surgery? Do you have an aversion to pain medication? How unfair is that???

Anyway, talk to me because now boredom has set in.

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