Surgery was a success. Well, insomuch as my surgeon went in there, cleaned it out, stitched me up and shoved me outta there.
Recovery... well I always underestimate how long recovery takes.
I tend to forgot how much my body dislikes being messed me. So Monday when I was finally able to take a shower, it was a disaster.
To begin with, I had probably been walking around too much in the morning. Gentleman Caller has been a GREAT help, but he works at night and sleeps alllllll morning. I was left to myself on Monday morning and while it was ok, I maybe decided to move around toooo much. And eat crappy food.
When it came time for the actual shower (SHOWER!!!) I was really excited! I jumped (figuratively) in! The second water hit my head, I knew it was a mistake. But my curly hair was now wet and needed to go through the works in order to forgive me for daring to get it wet. I managed to shampoo and get conditioner in, before I sat down in the tub and turned off the water. I soaped up since I wasn't doing anything else. And waited. And got impatient. I stood up, decided to just get it done with and get out. I rinsed everything off, hurried to wrap myself in a towel, sat on the lidded toilet and fainted.
Fainted! Like a delicate flower wilting after being exposed to too much sun.
Thankfully, I had insisted Gentleman Caller be in the area. He says he caught me as I was tilting to the side, accidently kneed me in the hip which cause me to spasm or something and then wake up. I basically ran into the bedroom and hung out on the bed for the next half hour. GC was really sweet and helped me with my lotion, getting dressed and just hung out with me while I calmed the eff down.
So last night I showered with a shower chair. And I could felt, physically, that if I didn't have that awesome blessing of a chair, it would have happened again.
What is with my shower? It wants to DESTROY me!