(no subject)
May. 15th, 2013 05:22 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
stitchwhichI am one sore cookie. I know I posted that the angioplasty I was supposed to have last Friday was only a half-event. The testing that they do once they're in the femoral artery showed that I had nice healthy arteries with no impairment of circulation so they closed everything up and sent me home. However, I AM still recovering from having that wound created.
I thought that I was far enough along that I could drive myself to a doctor's appointment today and then maybe take in a little shopping at the Commissary but decided, shakey and in pain after the appointment, that I'd throw myself at my husband and get him to drive me later in the day. Which he did. We went to Sam's Club, the Commissary, and then WalMart (certain items were not in stock at he Commissary as usual). And I was... in pain by the time we hit WalMart. Even though I'd been a good little 'fat lady on a cart' at the Commissary. Limping and sore and not really sure why was how I ended the trip. Sitting in a chair with my feet up watching TV later on did not ease it. When I finally went to bed and we checked the surgical site we learned that the bruising and swelling had spread rather far around the puncture area. Bossman was kinda respectful about the bruise. (Fighters!) Six hours later, now as I write this, the swelling has gone down a goodly bit but I can tell it is still there. I don't know about the bruising - I can't bend far enough to see it. (Who knew bending forward put strain on one's legs where they meet the body? I've never thought about it.) So I'm up, waiting for Bossman's alarm to go off so I can ask him to check everything again before he leaves for work. It's just a case of 'tell me it really is okay' nerves. Intellectually, I know it would be hurting a lot more and be at least as swollen as it was earlier if things were going poorly.
But I am a whiney needy child right now and I want him to stroke my hair, kiss my forehead, and tell me everything is all right.
I thought that I was far enough along that I could drive myself to a doctor's appointment today and then maybe take in a little shopping at the Commissary but decided, shakey and in pain after the appointment, that I'd throw myself at my husband and get him to drive me later in the day. Which he did. We went to Sam's Club, the Commissary, and then WalMart (certain items were not in stock at he Commissary as usual). And I was... in pain by the time we hit WalMart. Even though I'd been a good little 'fat lady on a cart' at the Commissary. Limping and sore and not really sure why was how I ended the trip. Sitting in a chair with my feet up watching TV later on did not ease it. When I finally went to bed and we checked the surgical site we learned that the bruising and swelling had spread rather far around the puncture area. Bossman was kinda respectful about the bruise. (Fighters!) Six hours later, now as I write this, the swelling has gone down a goodly bit but I can tell it is still there. I don't know about the bruising - I can't bend far enough to see it. (Who knew bending forward put strain on one's legs where they meet the body? I've never thought about it.) So I'm up, waiting for Bossman's alarm to go off so I can ask him to check everything again before he leaves for work. It's just a case of 'tell me it really is okay' nerves. Intellectually, I know it would be hurting a lot more and be at least as swollen as it was earlier if things were going poorly.
But I am a whiney needy child right now and I want him to stroke my hair, kiss my forehead, and tell me everything is all right.
