Update on my arm…
I am so over this!!!!!
It has been six days since my surgery. I go back to my doctor’s office today for my first follow up. So I should have some indication as to when I will be functional again.
Check out my x-ray. There is a huge hunk of metal in my arm. No wonder it hurts!
I’ve been pretty much confined to my room since the accident. I can’t drive because I’m on some very strong narcotic pain medication and because my truck has a stick shift. It is pretty much impossible to drive a standard with a broken right wrist.
So I’m pretty much dependent on my roommate for transportation.
Life on Drugs
To give you of an idea of what life on drugs and in pain is like for your ever so humble cowboy dancer and blogger, here is what I posted on my Facebook wall this morning which will give you an idea of the state om my brain when sleep deprived, in pain, and up way too early while still working on my first cup of coffee. It is quite amusing if I do say so myself. LOL
How you know you should probably go back to bed….
When you awake (for some unknown reason) with the distinct sensation of ascending into returning consciousness with a feeling that can only be compared to what I imagine it would feel like if one were being pulled out of a quicksand bog by with a rope attached on one end with two rolls of duct tape to a two-story tall Monster trucxk style jacked up jeep that uses a jet engine as a power train driven by an over zeleaous red-nec who’s had two much coffee and is heard to utter the red-neck battle cry of “Hey Bubba, Watch This!” The other end of the rope, of course, being attached to my
mending broken wrist.
Now wide awake and in need of immeadiate pain medication (unfortunately complete truth!), one stumnles to the light switch takes pills and realizing that in spite of only having had 2.5 hours of sleep one is now WIDE AWAKE and in pain.
Stumble to coffe pot. realize it hurts to breathe because movement makes wrist hurt more; stumble back to bedroom and fid sling. Ahhhhhhhh. momentary bliss. go back, start coffee. answer nature’s call and in mid-answer of said call realize that one forgot to empty yesterday’s grinds and is attempting to make a desperately needed necxtar of the gods with day old used grounds.
Quickly stumble back to kitchen. hit off button. open swingingy coffee compartment place thingie and dump old grounds momentarilty amazed that afore mentioned action doesnt produce a disaster. Some engineer somewhere should get a raise. toss old grounds put iun NEW. lots of new. We’re talkin truck driver QUANTITIES. Clse thingie. Hit on buitton.
While coffewe is brewing first cup enough to pull pot out and pout blessing the inventor of that stopper thingie that allows the addict to get his 1st cup without having cups 2-8 end up on the cabinet, I decide to nike breakfast.
How a guy know it is time to go to the grocery store: there is nothing in the fridge except 11 assorted mismatched beers (quality brands reflecting beers discovered while traveling), condiments, snack/lunch sized fruit bowls of applesauce, peaches, mixed fruit, and half-n-half with a sell by date of July 3. Jus sayin…
Steal roomates last Jimmy Dean sasuage egg cheese bisquit knowing i can beg forgiveness cause i’m injured and on drugs and cause romie is a saint when it comes to that kind of thing
nuke bisquit. burn fingers pulling saucer out of microwave.
Pot coffee. discover date on half and half. Tear sweet n low packets so that only very tiny hole is ion one and the other has no hole. discover the holeless state when it falls into the cup of cxoffee. Pour SLOWLY the other packet in open third, pour, fish out soggy packet with spoon as i stir. efficienct that is what thatsd called.
grab bisquit and discover that while thew plate was cooked the bisquit weas only half cooked. eat it any way whole typing long post on facebook ONE HANDED and wonder if friends will read it, laug ort gang up to have me hospitalized.
have secondf sip of coffee.
So, how’s your morning gone so far?
realize that meds are starting to kick in and that, spotting a newly apeasred photo of that hunkt nes guy whose name i know nut can’t remember becxause I’m pre-caffiewne and on drugs and sleep deprived, thonks. Wow wouldn’t it bew great if he were my husband and he were here giving me a hig and telling me not to worry that hell take care of me. Is he Canadian? I could marry him if he were Canadian.
I need more coffee
Wish me luck…
By the way, the name of the celebrity is Anderson Cooper. It finally came to me. LOL
And as a special treat. Here is an x-ray from the first time I broke my right wrist. The appliance you see is called an external fixator. It kept everything stable while things healed.
See ya on the dance floor!
- I has an owie! Muddlings of a one fingered typist (txcowboydancer.com)
- This. That. and the Other Thang, Over Yonder (txcowboydancer.com)