I’m still here.

Battered and bruised, but still here.

I’ve been getting a lot of confused phone calls and emails these past two days. Confused, because anyone who saw/spoke to me or read my blog on Monday or Tuesday, was left with the impression that things had gone swimmingly and I should be well on my way to healed by now.

I was also under that impression.

I’m over it now.

See, I had really deep deep down belief that everyone was exaggerating. The whole “getting your tonsils out as an adult is very different than when the kids do it” thing seemed like it just couldn’t be true. People have different pain tolerance levels and, hey, kids do it every day and bounce right back, right?

And then Monday’s operation came and went and the worst thing was really just getting the d*mn IV in and I thought “See? I told you so!” Whatever magic potion the anesthesiologist had included with the Propofol (I’m guessing there were some anti-inflammatory drugs in there and I know he put in some anti-nausea ones) had done their job. I wasn’t loving life, but the pain was totally manageable with the painkillers they had given me.

By Tuesday night, things had begun to change. Apparently the magic cocktail was wearing off and the painkiller was playing kickball with my stomach. Let’s just say that even the anti-nausea pills they gave me were no match and I was faced with the question: Which hurts less…puking with two open holes in the back of your throat or toughing this out without narcotics?

I chose the second.

As the days passed, some more unpleasant (and unexpected) side effects starting showing up. I will spare you the gory details, ’cause somethings are just better left unblogged.

I’m hoping that I’ve hit rock bottom and am moving toward things getting better. I managed to eat almost a whole bowl of soup tonight without crying, so that’s an improvement. Things may be a little quiet here the next few days, but I promise to come back with happier subjects once this is over.

And, a little word to the wise, if your doctor ever tells you that recovery is going to be “living hell”, believe him. Apparently they don’t throw those words around lightly.