…and better make that not one, but two, steps back.
Around the middle of last week I began complaining a bit of pain at the surgery site. With the holiday coming up I tried to not think about it too much; I knew that my doctors would be impossible to reach and I didn’t want to have to explain my whole medical story to somebody knew. I went about my business – busy-ness? – driving, walking, yoga-ing, and lifting (been in the midst of a downsizing-my-stuff frenzy).
By Saturday morning the “bit of pain” had become constant. I continued to ignore it, continued the driving, walking, yoga-ing, and lifting.
By Tuesday morning I was worried. Laughing hurt. Coughing hurt. Getting up, sitting down… yep, that too. Breathing hurt. So I finally made an appointment with my doctor, who I saw this morning. And not a moment too soon – I had been up, on and off, since 2am debating whether or not a trip to the ER was in order. I figured no fever, no emergency, right?
I was right. My doctor thinks I pulled a muscle, irritated some scar tissue, or ripped the internal stitches. Or all of the above, considering my pain level. It happens; its not uncommon, even this long after surgery. You can see it – the incision sites are looking a bit red and angry, and my left side is visibly swollen. So it’s ibuprofen and a heating pad for the rest of the day.
And orders to slow down a bit.