pwndcake

It's a strange time. In my usual attempt to fend off addiction, I stopped taking my oxycodone after 3 days of being out of the hospital. My body didn't like this decision, as it then had to bear the brunt of what it feels like to have a healing wound in your side with a plastic tube sitting right in the way of the knitting flesh. It also had to deal with the feeling of 5 days worth of narcotics (morphine, vicodin, and oxycodone) making their way out of my system. It has not been fun. There has been much pukeage, and not much sleep.

At the same time, I'm being elected Guild Leader of my EQ2 guild. 40 people have decided I have what it takes to tell them what to do, and they're willing to listen. It's gratifying, and a boost to self-esteem. It almost makes me feel good enough to not take more oxycodone.

Almost...

I still haven't taken any today, and the painful jabs of pain when I stand, cough, or move make me worry about the state of my new wetware. I'm like that. It means a lot to me to have this catheter work out, and the thought that it may be infected under those bandages fills me with anxiety. Tomorrow a nurse will peel away the bandages, wash off the blood, and hopefully she will tell me it all looks ok. I may ease my troubled mind with another dose of those fantastic pain pills the doctor gave me. I may not, and just suffer through it by repeating the familiar mantra, "This is better for me. This is better for me."

This decision would be a lot easier if I could just sleep.