I'm 4 days out from surgery and starting to feel a bit more like myself again. Recovery has been pretty smooth for the most part. The day after surgery I felt pretty good. Was sore but the pain meds had me pretty mellow. The second day of recovery wasn't so blissful. I was feeling not well. I was nauseated, achy, flushed and uncomfortable. Anything I tried to consume threatened to cone back up after only a small bite or two. It was an emotional day to say the least. I had slept a lot throughout the day. I felt exhausted and weepy. By nightfall I was crying and began second guessing my decision. I thought "what the hell did I just get myself into?". I questioned my decision. Mostly because of how difficult I was finding it to simply sit there. I couldn't even just be still without feeling miserable. Then came Friday. Beautiful Friday. I was so happy to be able to sip water without being miserable. It was as though I came over the hump and was on the other side of a terrible storm. Sometimes you don't realize just how miserable you were until you begin to feel better. Which brings me to today. Saturday. I'm ready to depart from my brother's house and head home back to Brooklyn. With as much as I appreciate the quiet of being out in the country and the help from my family, I am ready to return to my beloved hustle and bustle of the city. I'm getting a little homesick. I'm also antsy to get on my scale to see how I'm doing! So today it's homeward bound... Now will someone wake up my brother so I can get some help putting my things into the car??
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