There is pain. There is endless talking. My leg is turning yellow in streaks. My moods, I am told, cycle with the level of medication.
This post's theme phrase: "eldrich ersatz insects" (Charles Stross, Accelerando p. 48).
Saturday, April 26, 2008
Friday, April 25, 2008
Post-op
Not as bad as last time, but still not something I'd recommend. Although I intellectually understand, I cannot viscerally understand how people can become addicted to morphine, surgery, or percocet.
As I was waking up, the nurses found that my heart rate and blood oxygen levels were ok while they were talking to me, and dipped too low when I was left alone. So they had me recite poetry.
This post's theme word: farrago, "a mixture of things."
As I was waking up, the nurses found that my heart rate and blood oxygen levels were ok while they were talking to me, and dipped too low when I was left alone. So they had me recite poetry.
This post's theme word: farrago, "a mixture of things."
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