My Bedside Visit

Okay, so since my operation, I've been amazingly depressed. My face is huge, the swelling has gone from the left side of my jaw to my neck. The bruising has really come out today, making the swollen area bright luminous yellow. I can only really eat soup and custard, and I only really like the latter. I can't look at myself in the mirror or I feel like one of those American guys that eat so many hamburgers they end up with a cushion of fat around their heads. Yeah, that's me now.

I had to wake Mother up at 4am this morning. I didn't want to, but I couldn't think of anything else to do. It's weird, I didn't expect her to help or know what to do, and I ended up walking (as best as I could) back to my room, but the thought of somebody knowing and seeing my pain is a lot better than just suffering in my room alone.

Let me explain; I have to take 2 paracetamols four times a day maximum (so 8 in 24 hours), and 1 ibuprofen three times a day (I think you can do the math on that one). They don't really do much to help the pain of my ever-expanding face and stitches, but I use to take co-codamol for my period pains (caused by Endometriosis). Mother and I decided I should take one of them before I went to bed. It was 3.30am (we'd just finished watching Wanted) and the strength was 500mg.

So let me explain the pain that reared its head at 4am...

My ribs felt like they had bruises on top of bruises on top of bruises. I couldn't breath. I couldn't move. I couldn't think. Then the pain moved to my insides. My organs felt as if they had all been coated in a layer of excruciating pain. They felt as if they were swollen and being squeezed at the same time, then being punched, kicked and just generally tortured.

I have never ever been as worried about having an over-dose in my whole entire life.

I can't be bothered to tell the story of how I couldn't walk, how my Dad moaned that he had work in the morning, how Mother had to phone the 24/7 medical line and then wait for a call back, then phone again, then wait for another phone call that never came, then ponder whether or not to phone the ambulance, then phone the 24/7 medical line again, then find out somebody is coming to the house.

It was 6.30am when she arrived and the pain had pretty much calmed down. She was nice, and thorough. She said that she thinks I had a bad reaction to the codeine due to not having much food in my stomach (because I can barely eat). She said that I should try to be active because the pain killers are sort of sedating me and my organs may fall asleep. She said we should try slim fast as people use them instead of meals and therefore will fill me up more.

Kindest Regards,

A Stupidly Swollen,

Stripes xy

PostScript: After seeing my face like this, I've decided that I'm never going to complain about having stupidly fat cheeks, or jowls, ever again.