Yesterday was icky. I came home from surgery, lay around until it was time to go get my shots, came back home and lay there until it was time for bed. You'd be surprised by how many everyday things require extensive use of your neck muscles, such as going from a lying-down position to a sitting position. Owie owie owie. Plus, the heavy tape they put all over my neck was sort of yanking down on my head and gave me a wicked tension headache. I'm feeling better today.
Yesterday's one bright spot was when Jay went out to Taco John's and got me some Potato Oles. We don't have Taco John's in Kansas City, so it was pretty exciting. If you've never lived in the Iowa/South Dakota/Minnesota area, Taco John's is a fast food place, sort of like Taco Bell, but a zillion times better. Potato Oles are like deep-fried Tator Tots with a sprinkling of Mexican-ish spices on them. One bite and you're south of the border. The Canadian border.
WCK has been pretty fascinated by my big owie (the catheter) and my millions of little owies (all of the spots where they tried to start the IV). I explained to her that the doctor fixed me with Band-Aids, and she seemed pretty satisfied by that. What she couldn't quite get over, however, was the fact that my entire neck and upper chest were bright orange from the iodine that they smeared all over me. She spent most of yesterday calling me Pumpkin. When I walked in the door after getting my shots, she called out, "Hi, Pumpkin!" When she woke up from her nap, she asked my mom, "Where Pumpkin go?" Heh.
Speaking of WCK, when I left the hospital yesterday, they gave me instructions not to lift anything heavier than 10 pounds for as long as I have the line in. This is a little troublesome, considering WCK weighs just under 30 pounds, and I usually have to lift her nonstop all day long. It seems like I can't do aaaaaanything. I can't put her to bed, I can't give her a bath, I can't put her in her high chair. Fortunately, I have a lot of help. It's still a little sad.
This morning, I went in to get more shots and to get the dressing changed on the catheter. I think the most painful thing I've experienced during my visit at Mayo so far is when the nurse had to rip that tape off of my skin. They should sedate you for the tape removal. He put a new dressing on ... only this one is see-through. You can actually see the tube entering a giant bloody opening in my flesh. It is very, very, very gross. As soon as I got back, I realized I didn't have any turtleneck shirts with me and decided I needed to make an emergency shopping trip to get some. Fortunately, our apartment is connected to a little mall, and I found a few that were on sale. Hurrah! Grossness averted!