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I woke up after a suprisingly great and long night of sleep. But I felt insane. Like Spike tied to a chair in my userpic.
I've decided the real purpose of painkillers after chest surgery has little do with physical pain and everything to do with pyschological pain. Sure, there's definitely lots of soreness and discomfort, but there's very little sharp or debilitating pain. The reason I know it's time for painkillers: I start to get some prickly burning sensations along the skin of mychest, I start to freak out about the fact that I cut skin and fat off of my body as if I'm some sort of chicken, I get extreme cabin fever about having not left the house for many many hours, I get severely claustrophobic about my immobility. I also start to maybe cry. But then I take a pill and I'm okay. Um, desperate housewives? I'm worried about life without the pills, so now I'm going longer stretches without them. It's supposed to be 3-4 hours, now I'm doing 5-6 hour stretches. In one of my drug-induced daydreams I made some comment about conducting science experiments on my own body, which is really what all my exercising and working out and eating is as well. I think because I was reading some dharma this morning that said 'live your life as an experiment'. I don't think it's exactly what they meant.
Right now I'm alone in the house, and that's a good thing. I realized this morning I haven't had any time to myself in nearly five days, which might also be part of my morning feelings of insanity. So a couple quality hours by myself with the ipod has helped. I'll have some lunch with Lowenstein soon when she gets home, and then this afternoon I might go for a walk since it's sunny out.![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
wearemany will come back and be my escort. Also, I have a visit from limenal tonight to look forward to, as well as one from brothernumber3 tomorrow. I'm trying very hard to not be too jealous about dommeyourass's outings tonight and tomorrow. My time will come. Besides, that new chest harness will look better by itself, not on top of a hundred layers of gauze.
I've decided the real purpose of painkillers after chest surgery has little do with physical pain and everything to do with pyschological pain. Sure, there's definitely lots of soreness and discomfort, but there's very little sharp or debilitating pain. The reason I know it's time for painkillers: I start to get some prickly burning sensations along the skin of mychest, I start to freak out about the fact that I cut skin and fat off of my body as if I'm some sort of chicken, I get extreme cabin fever about having not left the house for many many hours, I get severely claustrophobic about my immobility. I also start to maybe cry. But then I take a pill and I'm okay. Um, desperate housewives? I'm worried about life without the pills, so now I'm going longer stretches without them. It's supposed to be 3-4 hours, now I'm doing 5-6 hour stretches. In one of my drug-induced daydreams I made some comment about conducting science experiments on my own body, which is really what all my exercising and working out and eating is as well. I think because I was reading some dharma this morning that said 'live your life as an experiment'. I don't think it's exactly what they meant.
Right now I'm alone in the house, and that's a good thing. I realized this morning I haven't had any time to myself in nearly five days, which might also be part of my morning feelings of insanity. So a couple quality hours by myself with the ipod has helped. I'll have some lunch with Lowenstein soon when she gets home, and then this afternoon I might go for a walk since it's sunny out.
wearemany will come back and be my escort. Also, I have a visit from limenal tonight to look forward to, as well as one from brothernumber3 tomorrow. I'm trying very hard to not be too jealous about dommeyourass's outings tonight and tomorrow. My time will come. Besides, that new chest harness will look better by itself, not on top of a hundred layers of gauze.
