For those of you who missed it, I had surgery three weeks ago. Three long weeks. It was major surgery.
[Why am I not saying it like in “A Christmas Story” and tell everyone about my MAJOR SURGERY? In the long run it will be better and my life will be more fun. In the short term though…I didn’t even get a leg lamp!]
Every week of “recovery” solves an issue or brings up a new one. Or both.
Week One I was ouchy and sleepy and dizzy.
Week Two I was barely ouchy, but got out of breath rather quickly. I actually left the house, and almost passed out, and came thisclose to throwing up, but I didn’t because I was afraid I’d get screamed at. Or I’d have to clean it up myself. Or I would be drafted. (I was at Fort Benning, GA.)
Week Three I was in pain yet again…so much so that the really humongous ibuprofens they gave me didn’t help. At all. I had to take the oxycodone. I alternated from whimpering in pain to being dizzy and sleepy. By the middle of the week I stopped the oxycodone and didn’t need the ibuprofen either but kept right on being dizzy and sleepy.
Me, to no one in particular: “Why am I so dizzy??”
The Girl: “Because the earth is spinning around and around.”
(I am incompatible with my home planet. Apparently.)
By the end of the week I also contracted a rash.
So this is the beginning of Week Four and I’m still sleepy and I get out of breath easily and just for fun I have a mystery rash which may or may not be the last flailing remnants of general anesthesia. I have an appointment with my surgeon tomorrow. (I’m tempted to walk in and demand she fix me. Except that she removed my uterus, so, technically, she already has. Ha!)
But, in all my medical wisdom (I’ve been to the Emergency Room), I decided this issue wasn’t so much a “skin problem” as it was foreign invaders working their way out of my systems and wreaking havoc on my skin. So instead of doing something normal like rubbing myself down with lotion every twenty minutes or sitting in an oatmeal bath, I decided I have a kitchen full of “stuff” (It’s not food until you cook it) so I should make my own gosh darn scrubs and masks.
I’m so thrifty!
I made a facial scrub with brown sugar and oil and gently rubbed that onto my face.
By “gently rubbed that onto my face” I mean it felt
a little a whole lot like sandpaper and didn’t have quite enough oil so it wasn’t sticking to my face and I may or may not have dropped brown sugar into my cleavage.
I rinsed after a few minutes and moved into the bathtub (standing, pre-shower) and rubbed on a sugar/oil scrub for my poor itchy body. When I was done I looked like a sugar donut at the adult donut store.
[Note: If you try this at home make sure you are fully in your tub and not flailing around because you don’t possess the ability to balance without your clothes on. I will have to explain why we have ants in the bathroom because I dropped oily sugar balls on the floor.]
I also had the urge to text The Man, “Hey! I have sugar stuck to my nipples! WHERE ARE YOU?” It was lunchtime though so I didn’t because I didn’t want him to choke on his food.
I’m thoughtful like that.
Then, I turned on the water (somewhere between “omigawdthat’stoohot!” and “body temperature”) and rinsed off…and was covered in oil and beaded water. So NOT what I was going for. I showered with moisturizing body wash and emerged less oily, still moisturized and not itchy. The tub was also covered in oil and dissolved sugar so there may have been more flailing, some colorful language, and a “just-how-strong-is-the-shower-curtain” test.
That also brings up a new question. The oil is slippery…but dissolved sugar water is sticky so do they even one another out? I’m not good at science.
After towel drying and confirming that I am not too slippery for clothing I moved back to the sink and applied a moisturizing face mask I made with powdered milk, honey and a bit of oil. It was very…mask-y. It smelled DIVINE. After a few minutes I rinsed that off and my face too, feels clean, smooth and as soft as a baby’s butt. So, my half hour of beauty cured my itching, exfoliated my skin which made my pores happy (so the experts say) and moisturized all my old dried up parts. I feel better and I look twenty-five.
I also smell like donuts.
[Next week: “How I gained fifteen pounds by going to the doctor.]