It's not often that Dr. B. is reduced to tears because of physical pain. Really. There were probably two times when my back went out. And there was the time four years ago (right before I had to defend my dissertation) when my throat and ears started a revolution against my head and tried to burn it to ashes from the inside out. I'm pretty sure I cried then too. (In fact, I'm positive I cried just on principle: the ingratitude from the throat and ears! Revolt against me? Harumph. Had they not always been treated with the utmost respect? The betrayal!)
And then there was yesterday. And the day before that. Oh, and earlier today. Yes, that's right. I almost forgot. Earlier today.
"Boo hoo hoo. It hurts! Boo hoo hoooo." That's what it's like over here every 4-6 hours when the ibuprofen wears off. Wanna come over?
There was a tiny respite last night, thanks to the magical powers of Ambien, but other than that, the throat's running the show over here.
When the painkillaz are doing their job, I can do a little holiday crafting. Here's a little taste of one of the projects. (Ow! Taste? Thinking about tasting makes my throat hurt.)
Ignore the red threads. They're just the basting stitches - they'll get pulled out soon enough.
Oh. And be kind, won't you? Mama's throat is killing her.