Remember when I said that the recovery from this surgery was easier than the recovery from the first? And how I was feeling great and nothing hurt? Apparently, those words enraged my body and the pain hit me today like a hammer-filled bag made of broken glass and scorpions.
That might be a slight overstatement. But I did take a Motrin this morning.
I finally hit that part of recovery that the doctor warned me about. It hurts to swallow and it's pretty hard to do at times. It took me half a dozen attempts to get down a bite of chicken nugget today. It's not just slightly uncomfortable anymore... it hurts. I'm also having some acid reflux issues that feel like painful, cold heartburn in the middle of my chest. And, I'm tired.
Like a boss, I timed my return to work with today's onslaught of post-operative malady. I had plans of returning to school with smiles and light-hearted banter. Instead, I found myself feeling wrung-out by mid-morning. Turns out, teaching is slightly more physically demanding than laying in my bed, watching Judge Judy.
But take heart! The 2nd first day back at work had a happy ending. Lookit my new favorite thing, Rutherford B. Hayes:
|I'm named after the 19th president!|
Doesn't he make you feel all tropical and lush?
Rutherford B. Hayes currently resides in cubicle A as my new favorite student.
I plan on asking him for answers when the real kids are struggling and letting him get everything right. It's also extremely convenient because the Smartboard projector makes it counterproductive to have a real kid sit in that cubicle. So now the space is not wasted. Then, when I'm outside of my restriction period and am allowed to carry heavy things, I'll bring him home to join Ulysses S. Grant.
Ulysses S. Grant will undoubtedly find the whole thing bewildering.
If you're wondering (and you probably are) where James K. Polk could be, have no fear. James K. Polk has been here for a while. I'll share a picture of him after I repaint him. It's not like I just started naming things after presidents with middle initials all willy nilly. That wouldn't make any sense. I'm going in order... and I can not wait to find Chester A. Arthur.