Anesthesia is both my favorite friend and worst enemy. I’m nauseous. Everywhere. Even my curls are nauseous. Inside my body it’s like standing on the deck of a ship in a storm and I definitely don’t have sea legs.
I love bright colors but green is not my BEST color and It’ll take a few days to get the meds out of my system. Each day will be better. So I hug a couch and try not to shout groceries at the walls (my favorite descriptive euphemism for vomiting), hug my dogs, cuddle chicks, and sleep packed in ice.
Even my funny bone is nauseous but I’m still gonna crack jokes because this is still better than lots get to feel and this too shall pass. Crossing fingers and hoping like hell the seasickness patches dotting my neck, and the Zofran I swallowed will keep the Ben and Jerry’s Chubby Hubby ice cream Lucy brought home for me from passing my lips twice too.
Just you watch me. I’ll be up and swinging at the world before long. I’ll start slow, and work my way up to less slow. I’ll do my end zone dance around telephone poles, walking further and faster and freer.
Just you watch me.