He's home, and approximately 45 minutes ago he took an Oxycodone, and looked like this:
Is it any wonder people get addicted? Just before that, he was standing, holding onto the granite counter for dear life, moaning about The Pain, It Really Hurts. Then, he told me that it's not even the pain for the five million stitches that are holding him together from hip to hip and, uh, cheek to cheek - it's "gas, really bad gas." So, I gave him a Gas-X, and some Milk of Magnesia that he won't sip, then an Oxycodone, and he went back to what will be known as Daddy's Chair from here on out.
(You'll note that I am writing this post backwards, because, he's currently under the influence and Not Pacing around me, and it's quiet, hang on, the good part is coming.)
So, his mom and dad bought a recliner, because when preparing to bring him home - we realized that there is nowhere in this house to sit upright comfortably. This house is so small that we cannot fit a typical couch, and we only have an IKEA super compact square couch, that is entirely straight backed and there is zero pillowing on it. So, just as I was considering running to La-Z-Boy and putting a chair on my credit card, Meem showed up with one wrapped in plastic. Thank goodness, and also, my father was on his way - to bring us a chair that he used after he became Part Man - Part Transformer with his two fake hips. The man now has a place to sit his fat bruised, battered and bleeding ass.
Technically, his ass isn't bleeding, but his thighs are just gag-inducing. I have yet to see any incisions, as he's in bandages until tomorrow, but I get the gist of the nastiness. Blech. His belly is under a binder, and seems "okay" at this point, and he's really not complaining of gut pain, and he's walking nearly upright - though he resembles a caveman that Rode A Donkey Just A Little Too Hard.
(Hold on, there is a funny part to this.)
One problem? He cannot sit on the toilet. It's super-low, and even with the emergency installation of a toilet lift seat (another of my parents' leftover gadgets from Papa's transformer surgeries) he can't sit and go. He sits on the thigh incisions if he sits to poop. So, there will be no pooping in his near future, this could get upsetting.
(Okay, I told you there would be something funny.)
This morning, while he was at the hospital, and I was in the car driving to the bank, I got a text message:
"My peeeeeeeeee is black and...."
I got nervous, DEAR GAWD THE BOY IS PISSING BLOOD! I call him, and fast. I say, "Why is your pee black, are you peeing blood? Are you dying?"
He replied: "No, my, uh, 'pee' is black and blue."
Me, laughing, very inappropriately: "So, they did listen to me and slip? Or did they really give you a vulva?"
He didn't laugh. I let him know that I was glad he wasn't urinating blood, and I hung up.
But, he flashed me when he got home, his teabags have swollen into two grapefruits and are going to take over the world, and they're totally black.
Guess he was sorta right when he told me that his vulva was swollen, he was jus a lil confuseth.
PS. Just heard in the other room: This medicine gives you a warm feeling all over, eh? Oh, now I'm hearing bells, that's funny.
Oh Christ. What a week this will be.
He's home, and approximately 45 minutes ago he took an Oxycodone, and looked like this:
Is it any wonder people get addicted? Just before that, he was standing, holding onto the granite counter for dear life, moaning about The Pain, It Really Hurts. Then, he told me that it's not even the pain for the five million stitches that are holding him together from hip to hip and, uh, cheek to cheek - it's "gas, really bad gas." So, I gave him a Gas-X, and some Milk of Magnesia that he won't sip, then an Oxycodone, and he went back to what will be known as Daddy's Chair from here on out.
(You'll note that I am writing this post backwards, because, he's currently under the influence and Not Pacing around me, and it's quiet, hang on, the good part is coming.)
So, his mom and dad bought a recliner, because when preparing to bring him home - we realized that there is nowhere in this house to sit upright comfortably. This house is so small that we cannot fit a typical couch, and we only have an IKEA super compact square couch, that is entirely straight backed and there is zero pillowing on it. So, just as I was considering running to La-Z-Boy and putting a chair on my credit card, Meem showed up with one wrapped in plastic. Thank goodness, and also, my father was on his way - to bring us a chair that he used after he became Part Man - Part Transformer with his two fake hips. The man now has a place to sit his
fatbruised, battered and bleeding ass.Technically, his ass isn't bleeding, but his thighs are just gag-inducing. I have yet to see any incisions, as he's in bandages until tomorrow, but I get the gist of the nastiness. Blech. His belly is under a binder, and seems "okay" at this point, and he's really not complaining of gut pain, and he's walking nearly upright - though he resembles a caveman that Rode A Donkey Just A Little Too Hard.
(Hold on, there is a funny part to this.)
One problem? He cannot sit on the toilet. It's super-low, and even with the emergency installation of a toilet lift seat (another of my parents' leftover gadgets from Papa's transformer surgeries) he can't sit and go. He sits on the thigh incisions if he sits to poop. So, there will be no pooping in his near future, this could get upsetting.
(Okay, I told you there would be something funny.)
This morning, while he was at the hospital, and I was in the car driving to the bank, I got a text message:
"My peeeeeeeeee is black and...."
I got nervous, DEAR GAWD THE BOY IS PISSING BLOOD! I call him, and fast. I say, "Why is your pee black, are you peeing blood? Are you dying?"
He replied: "No, my, uh, 'pee' is black and blue."
Me, laughing, very inappropriately: "So, they did listen to me and slip? Or did they really give you a vulva?"
He didn't laugh. I let him know that I was glad he wasn't urinating blood, and I hung up.
But, he flashed me when he got home, his teabags have swollen into two grapefruits and are going to take over the world, and they're totally black.
Guess he was sorta right when he told me that his vulva was swollen, he was jus a lil confuseth.
PS. Just heard in the other room: This medicine gives you a warm feeling all over, eh? Oh, now I'm hearing bells, that's funny.
Oh Christ. What a week this will be.