How am I doing? Short answer is, I'm OK. Surgery was a week ago, and the doctor said it would take me a week to get back on my feet.
However, I had a fairly serious setback at the end of last week which reset the clock back to zero. More like -2, to be honest, since a) I no longer had the abdominal marocaine pump, and b) I ran out of vicodin.
Yum, yum, yum.
I expected this whole thing to be a character-building experience. I didn't really expect that to be quite so eye-wateringly true. I'm just glad I took notes on what it felt like (and looked like). Having spun all of that into gold, I'm sure I'll be able to give it to the king at some point so he can use it somehow.
All in all, I felt like deep-fried shit on Friday and Saturday, and have been on a slow upwards curve since. Today is the first day I've been out of bed since then. I was able to take a shower and I made it downstairs. Go me. Also, I've been able to leave my chair for two (count them, TWO) trips to the kitchen.
In preparation for this recovery time hiatus from normal life, I expected that I'd be reading books, working on that backlog of New Yorkers and writing up a storm.
I'm not.
I watch movies, read flash fiction, mess around on the internet, do sudoku and crossword puzzles. I filled out a lot of paperwork about myself for an upcoming writing project, and set up a Facebook page in conjunction.
Today, in my new surroundings - living room instead of bedroom - I grabbed my muse by the throat and shook her until she came across with a story for this Friday. It's written, revised and slotted in.
The story is crap, but what can I do?
Tomorrow will be better than today, and next week will be better still.
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