Not much of a tragedy, by comparison, but still…
It seems that last week during Toby’s birth, the Cytotec I was given (applied directly to the cervix) was so immensely powerful in its contraction-causing ability that it GAVE ME A GODDAMNED HERNIA.
The excurciating pain I experienced yesterday and the creaking achiness I’m feeling today are the result of the abdominal wall tearing just enough to encourage my innards to push outward, catching my femoral nerve in the process.
Just like when I was fifteen. Except this time, I know what it is, and I will NOT be going out dancing after this.
A prescription for Vicodin, which I’m actually going to try to take, to soothe the pain a bit and relax the muscles enough to heal, but I can’t pick Joseph up (or, really, anything else) for another two to three weeks. Color me pissed off.
And poor Dr. Hinkle.
Dr. H: “Do you want some Valium to help you sleep?”
Me: “Can’t take ’em. They make me halluciate.”
Dr. H: “Oh… well, what about Darvocet?”
Me: “Nope. Allergic. They make me puff up in hives, and hallucinate.”
Dr. H: “You must live a very colorful life.”
Me: “Something like that…”