So how did I wake up today, you ask? Why, at about 5 p.m., screaming bloody murder and sobbing profusely. Let’s hear it for being stupid enough to go as long as I did without waking up to take a painkiller. Of course, I had nightmares about crawling on my elbows because I couldn’t walk because my foot felt like it had daggers going through it and I had nightmares about seeing blood everywhere…essentially, my subconscious had been yelling at me for however many hours to get up and pump some drugs into my system so it could calm down on the whole scary, vivid imagery thing.
Fortunately, my beloved was just outside in his home office and heard me screaming and crying and quickly came to my rescue. Because, clearly, I was NOT having it. Out of context, it sounded like I was being murdered by a psychotic, gruesome closet monster. Poor Kev. Even though he’s on a ridiculously important work deadline and his computer is driving him insane, he came to my rescue. J He scavenged the bedroom for my meds, uncorked a (nice!) bottle of wine to try to minimize as much pain as possible until the painkillers kicked in, and delivered lots of lovely love, love, love.
So begins my gratuitous montage to my love, my darling Kevin:
Oh, how I love him so…
Time to curl back up into bed and evade any additional pain rages...
xoxo,
Elizabeth Alida
sorry to hear about your surgery... hope you heal up fast!
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