Dr. Brownlee didn’t lie. This C-section did suck less than the last one.
So, I’m feeling much better today, thanks. I can mostly get myself up and down onto chairs and beds. I took a shower. I dressed. Mostly my problem is my meds are a bit too strong. In the hospital, they gave me Lortabs for pain. They sent me home with the generic equivalent, hydrocodone, which makes me much more spacey and dizzy. I fear that it’s also crossing into the breast milk, too. Saralyn was really worrying me last night. Poor little thing was panting like she was chasing the dragon… I didn’t take the pain killer last night at bedtime, and hoped to just make it with the Ibuprofen. Mostly, that worked fine, but I got up this morning feeling really stiff and sore. I broke down and took half a pill this morning to get ahead of the pain and it has carried me (along with the Ibu) to tonight. Saralyn is less affected today, and has had here eyes open more, which makes me feel better in general.
Perhaps, like Uncle Duke says, I’ll save the hydrocodone for when I’m feeling better. (Most likely not, though. I got 30 hydrocodone with the last C-section and ended up flushing about 25 of them. Not worth taking because of the side effects. Also, I was worried about having it in the house.)
While I’ve been a dopey blockhead most of the day, my husband has been a man of accomplishment; he’s washed dishes and clothes, swept floors, unpacked our bags, run errands, had the car fixed, changed diapers, served drinks, played with babies, and led a U.N. mission to create peace across three continents. It’s been a full day for him, too. (Really, get this man a trophy.)
I plan to spend the next few days doing more of the same, sitting around and watching the healing process. Several people have come by or announced they are coming by to visit and so on, so I will see some folks.
I’d love to hear what’s going on in the outside world. For now I seem only to have eyes for Saralyn and Elly. I’m seeing Saralyn’s personality emerge, and will blog about that very soon, and it’s been educational to watch Elly come to grips with being a sister, and not be the center of the household’s attention. But that’s another blog.
Between those blog ideas, and a few other hospital related ones, I’m feeling backloged. Or backbloged. Perhaps I need a syntaxitive to get me regular.
I had to get the car fixed. We can’t afford to let the car have kids. Maybe someday the car will find itself a nice tow truck with steady work, but we just can’t that chance. (Ba-dum-bump.)