Well, it’s been a painful few days. I take Tylenol every 6 hours, and by the fourth hour, I need more. The pain wakes me from my sleep and I get up and swallow two more capsules.
I don’t think I’ve ever in my life taken any kind of pain reliever more than twice in a row, but I had no idea stitches in your mouth holding together an excision could be so painful.
The first day I could barely talk. It was well into the second day that I could open my mouth more than a tiny bit. Right now it’s not too bad and hopefully it will get easier from here.
Needing Stronger Tylenol:
Yesterday morning I headed to the grocery store for a stronger form of Tylenol. I came home with Tylenol Fast Acting Extra Strength and I was opening it on the way home.
It was quite a feat to get the lid off. They sealed the lid in plastic and I’d think that would be enough. But then with this bottle you have to line the arrow up and push with all your might to open it.
What an aggravation when the pain is getting worse by the minute and you can’t get the darned lid off.
Okay, enough with the frustrated rant. I’ll move on to other things.
Streaming Hinterland Show:
I am into the second season of “Hinterland.”
Last night the wife came to town and left with DCI Tom Mathias even more broken. He’s overcome with both guilt and grief over his dead child.
He had to run away from his family and isolate himself in a rundown trailer to punish himself before he could move on. And he is moving on in physical form only.
His deep wrenching pain is evident in every case, as he injects more personal feelings than he should into solving them.
Grief is like that. You can’t outpace it. Or put a lid on it. You just have to endure it.
It is a combustible state of emotions, and finally he breaks down. He wants to resign but his boss tells him he will not accept his resignation.
Ivy Has Found A Wooden Bead On The Floor:
Ivy is playing with an errant wooden bead that rolled under something the other day when I was organizing bead boxes. I dropped the box and watched them roll, hundreds of them, underneath furniture in all directions.
And there was Ivy, mischief and light in her eyes at the prospect of so many things to bat around.
Then I was getting Charlie dry food from the plastic container and tipped the whole thing over. At that point I was about ready to sit on the floor and weep.
I don’t dare cry because I know it will contort my features and I can’t bear it when my right cheek gets shifted. It then radiates pain from the excision and stitches.
The doctor told me that this cyst, or whatever it was, might grow back.
Not Having This Cyst Removed If It Comes Back:
Well if it does it will have to stay there. Because I don’t think I can bear going through this again. Seems like I’ve had major surgeries less painful than this.
But then, pain is relative, isn’t it? Like childbirth, it is eventually forgotten.
Of course we can all bear more than we think we can. We can be stretched and pulled in all directions and still bounce back, good as new. Or at least good enough.
I’m thinking of driving over to the garden nursery and wandering around inside. I always feel peaceful there. It is a beautiful place with elegant decor and the plants seem to sooth everything that needs soothing at the time.
Charlie’s groomer, Kim, just called and said she can fit Charlie in today. So I guess I’ll get in the car and drive him over there.
I’m going to take two more Tylenol and be on my way.