Tonsillectomy at 30. (Plus, I have an ingrown toe-nail.)

Oowwwwwwwwah! My throat hurts! Is it time for meds yet???
(All of this is being scribbled, by me, on a white board and thrust at Doug.)

D: "Yep! Here ya go!"

Every 4 hours, I have 20 lucid minutes

When the pain starts, It means the medicine is wearing off. It also means, I'm slightly sane.
And I can walk.
But I can't talk.

So I leave my bedroom. Go to the bathroom. Do a quick survey of the house... (Cleaner than usual, dang that Domestic Doug.)

Enough of that. I take the medicine.

2 tsp liquid Perc. and 2 tsp antibiodic. The first, really nasty. The second, sorta bubblegum-ish. I'm down 5 minutes and have about 15 left.

Soon, the pain in my throat lessens. It's not that bad, really. Not any worse than my usual multi-annual cases of Tonsilitis. Not nearly as bad as I was warned it would be!

The medicine works fast. I can whisper now, but I still avoid swallowing as much as possible. (I may or may not be spitting into the waste basket at this point.

Time to sit down. My legs are definitely wobbly. I grab the lap top and climb back into bed. Time is short. I can talk a little, but quietly. The boys ask if I'm all better now. For a second, I think I am.

I check my e-mail...
Check!
Check my blog for comments...
Check! (not enough)
Check Google Reader for new posts to read...
Read!
I read. I try to leave a comment or two. My vision is getting blurry and my skin is getting itchy. So so so itchy. My thoughts that seemed so clear moments ago are already getting cloudy. It's hard to type. I've made some spelling errors, but don't have the will to correct them. The room is slowly starting to spin.
I hope I sound normal in the comments.
I have a feeling I don't sound normal.
I'm drifting in and out.

The last sentence took 5 minutes to finish. The laptop feels like it's burning through the sheets and scorching my legs. I shove it off of my lap and try to roll to my left side. Must sleep on left side. Oh no! Light on. Getting to the light switch is out of the question. I barely manage to kneel on my bed and pull the chain then fall in a heap. The last thing I remember I'm scratching my legs but they're only itching worse. And then I'm on to dream land to view tortured scenes from a "Lost" and "Scrubs" hybrid (the last two shows I've watched) set to a real-life sound track of boys yelling downstairs which even numerous doors and pillows can't drown out.

This is the life!

See you in another 4 hours.