I’m home recovering from the procedure I had last Friday, which affected me more than I expected. The Tylenol worked a little bit, but by yesterday, I was just in pain. It wasn’t crippling, mind you, but it made teaching hard. I gave a test yesterday and dismissed the classes, which thrilled my students.
I woke up this morning around two, took more Tylenol, but they didn’t work. I canceled my classes for the day–another bonus for them–and worked for home, gritting my teeth and trying not to whine too myself.
I called the doctor and left a message with one his nurses, and then it occurred to me to try some ibuprofen. I tend not to take it, but my wife mentioned it last night, and I thought what the hell? Either it works or it doesn’t.
I took a while, but when it kicked in, I felt better than I had since undergoing the procedure. When the nurse called back, I told her I was cautiously optimistic that the ibuprofen was doing the trick, I was on the mend, or both. She told me to call back next week if I had any lingering pain.
I sat back and thought I made it through without a pain-pill and without drinking. Kudos to me. After I finished grading papers and prepping for tomorrow, I rewarded myself by play the hell out of Dead Space 3.
I’ve had days off from work when I started drinking earlier than normal. Lord knows I’ve played my fair share of video games hammered, just as I’ve written storied and songs with a belly-full of wine.
I gotta say, I like the sober way better.