I'm having an entirely unusual -- but not unpleasant -- recuperation from my little surgery yesterday.
Now this is the third time I've had something done to this eyelid, the first time being just two days after the actual brain tumor was removed that left the eyelid paralyzed. I wasn't too focused on the eye then, being mostly just thrilled to pieces that I wasn't dead or turned into vegetable matter. So the eye, yeah, do whatever, I didn't care much.
But before long it became clear that the opthalmologist who did whatever was a) an asshole and b) not especially good at his work. My eye looked really weird and awful for a few years, until I found DR. WONDERFUL, who made my eye look normal and actually close on its own. He did this by putting a little flat piece of gold in my eyelid. Which is what he just took out yesterday.
So all of this is very good. Here's what's hitting me so funny. After the big surgery, I was out of work for ten weeks, during which time I watched a lot of movies and ate a lot of macaroni and cheese and pretty much didn't do anything else. This was a real change for a task-oriented full-time working mommy, and as it turned out, it felt amazing to let other people take care of me for once and to just be. I totally look back on this as a good thing; I guess this is partly why I wouldn't have this recent surgery done during the time that K was home sick; I wanted it to be my time, for me, to just be.
Then, Sunday night, I remembered the second eyelid thing, six years ago. What I specifically remembered was that for a couple of days afterward, it hurt like hell. My eye was all ookie and it hurt and it stung and it hurt. And of course, I couldn't read for weeks afterward, but I had already remembered that. So, come Monday morning, I was getting a little weirded out. But I went. It didn't snow, I went.
I got into the operating room at 8. By 10:30, I was HOME!
Back up. What?
I just don't know. They didn't give me general anesthesia, by 9 I was eating a big breakfast, then I went home. Here's the really strange part: it doesn't hurt. It hasn't hurt at all, not even for a minute, not even right after. Yes, I look like I've been on the bad end of a short fight; my eye is red and puffy. But no hurt. And I can see. I can see and read just fine with the glasses I've got.
And I seem to have more energy than anyone has a right to have. Maybe it's because I'm not at work. So I can't even sit still and watch movies all day; I'm doing things in the house, on the computer, making calls. I even went out and bought "My Big Fat Greek Wedding", since it came out today, but I don't have the patience to sit still and watch it yet.
So it's good, but it's so different, not at all what I expected. It almost feels like I stole a week off of work. But really, I couldn't go in looking like this; I'd scare the kids. And the substitute is counting on the whole week of work. Right?
Man, I did have surgery yesterday, so why am I begrudging myself the week to recuperate? It's that damn work ethic again. It's probably the same thing that makes it impossible for me not to be accomplishing some kind of task every minute of the day.
Whatever. I'm gonna go make some macaroni and cheese.
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I'm watching
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