Return to work: T-minus 8 days and counting.
Aside from my daily strolls in the park, since the surgery I’ve ventured out of the house maybe three times. Three times in three weeks, and not a sign of going stircrazy. My little abode is a perfect hermitage and I could happily stay here forever.
The other day, as part of my re-acclimation into society, Hubby and I went to see a movie: Kickin’ it Old School. Nostalgic! Hey, I am a sucker for stupid comedies, especially films flashing back to the good old 80’s. “By the power of Greyskull!” Thanks to Hubby, I also discovered, quite reluctantly, a new taste sensation: popcorn with arare and sno-caps. (This is the same guy who has been known to eat peanut butter, mayonnaise and banana sandwiches. Which, although sounds utterly disgusting, are amazingly good.) Being one who is loathe to mix food, the very thought of sno-caps in my popcorn was appalling. However, during one of my bathroom breaks, Hubby snuck a few into my popcorn. And, whaddaya know, I liked it! I subsequently took the box of sno-caps and emptied the remaining chocolates into my popcorn. I suppose it’s not unlike the kettle corn idea: salty and sweet go great together. The next time you go to the movies try it and let me know what you think.
It’s been three weeks since I wore “real” clothes. By real clothes, I’m talking about attire that isn’t yoga pants and sweats. The incision area is still sensitive and even when I wear my yoga pants, which are a little more fitted than my other PJ-type pants, it feels like pins and needles. It’s an odd sensation: sometimes it feels like I have a one-pound appendage stiched to my abdomen, hanging tenuously by threads; other times it just feels tender to the touch. I really hope the weirdness goes away soon, else I’ll have to resort to wearing muumuus to work everyday until it does. Egads.
Thankfully, I was able to plead my way into rescheduling an earlier post-op appointment, so I can ask the doc if I’m on track with the recovery BEFORE I actually return to work. I felt that it was ridiculous to have a post-op appointment 5-1/2 weeks after the surgery, when the doc told me to see him in 2 weeks. Now my new appointment is one day shy of four weeks since my surgery, but I’ll take that. My lower abdomen is still bulging in odd places, which is somewhat disconcerting, although I’m certain that he’ll probably just say what he did when I asked him about it at the hospital: “well, we moved around a lot of stuff in there.” Didn’t his mother teach him to put things back where he found them?
