Warning: This will be graphic.
Day three in the corset from hell. So named because it doesn't just incorporate a corset, but also the nearly inch deep bandages from the surgery. Also so named because the corset's gargantuan size causes it to also encompass the drainage that flows from the incision right above my crotch.
Unfortunately, until this hideous drain comes off [Wednesday], I have to wear this torture device 24 hours a day.
This means:
- I have not bathed in 3 days. The only option is bathing with a washcloth. A friend (not Aron) will be doing the honours soon. Until then, I smell and am a de-facto hermit.
- I itch like mad, especially now that my abdomen is beginning to swell up.
- I can't sleep laying down, but instead have to sleep in a "deckchair position."
- I can't walk upright, lest the sutures become undone. I have to walk hunched over.
- I can't sit like a normal person. The corset renders me into being like a woman in the middle of pregnancy. My body has to contort into some strange position so as to--again--not break the sutures.
- I am essentially at my computer desk all the time, because my desk chair is the only one I have that can get me into this deckchair position with relative ease.
- I haven't done all the writing that I had hoped to get done, because it is just too damn uncomfortable.
And you don't even want to know how much fun using the bathroom is!
Running through my head during this whole process is that I willingly am subjecting myself to this. Perhaps, just perhaps, the ends will be satisfying enough for the journey taken to get there.
Or perhaps, I'm just a closet masochist?
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