Actually, the weekend went less well than I stated previously, in that I once again had a severe list of reactions to a narcotic painkiller (itchy beyond belief, the difficulty breathing [a nice combo when my internal pads got blood-soaked and dropped down into my nasal cavities after one particularly bloody bout of vomiting], and the usual ennui [stuff makes me really weird, but fortunately, Vonne loves to talk all night long while I pace the bedroom like a caged animal]). I got permission from my doc Saturday morning to tweezer out the descended pads, because I thought I would just about go nuts pretending I could keep them in until Thursday (whence next we meet). I thereupon also quit the Vicodin, certain that the pain wasn't bad.
My rectitude didn't last, because the headaches got severe Sat night and again Sunday afternoon, but by Sunday night I knew I simply had to flush the remaining Vicodin (I've done this after other surgeries) and ask my doc for something non-narcotic, which I got today. Amazing how quickly all the side-effects disappear. Despite my checkered youth (actually, pretty bad), I have no stomach--or brain--for self-abuse of that sort anymore. A nice martini is about as far out on a limb as I care to climb.
So today (Monday) has been the big turnaround: hopefully my last bout of upchucking and commensurate bleeding and a glidepath that is truly sustainable. Look! I am writing somewhat coherently again. What got me over the hump was watching Ocean's 11, 12 and 13 in sequence--truly brain clearing in the best way. Plus, those are extremely fun movies.
Good timing on the recovery, as I need to start writing my Esquire column tomorrow and conduct an Enterra training session by phone on Wednesday.
No rest for the wicked, and no narcotics either.
Now to cheer on my Saints, the great hope of the ABF crowd (anybody but Favre) in the NFC. On the AFC side, I think it's my Colts (Peyton, my new religion at QB, and yes, he will inevitably break all of Brett's records--save INTs) and the Pats that matter. Going to be an interesting rest of the season.
Thankfully, now that the Favre thing is over for the Pack (thank you, scheduling gods!), I still see a good chance at 10-11 wins, meaning we may yet get another crack at the Old Man.
And yes, I know we can beat him--even at the Hump. After two queer efforts that largely consisted of beating ourselves up, I think we're ready to move beyond--unless McCarthy tries that same disastrous first-half game plan three times in a row!
But odds are, the Saints will have the top seed and we'll be sacrificed to the football gods down there. Alas, no home playoff tix for me, but January will be--thankfully--a busy month.
Finally, apologies from Sean and I regarding the website operation these past couple days. Usual BS with the host. Sean working tirelessly. We know comments and stuff have suffered. But all is being worked out.