two things

There were two things that happened during the post-manipulation hours and days that I don't want to forget.

First, during the hours immediately post-manipulation, my arm was sleepy. Really sleepy. Before the procedure began, the doc asked me to sign to give him authorization to give me some type of injection during the procedure. I don't remember what type of injection it was--steroids or pain killer or what else I don't know. I just know that there was some weird stuff in that shot. All through the night, as I was waking and dozing fitfully and startling awake and writing in my half-asleep brain, my arm was sleeping. At first, I couldn't even raise it. I had to move it with my other arm. But as the night progressed, my arm seemed to be waking up so that by morning it was awake and functioning properly. But there was this odd period of time in the early morning hours when it felt like it was awake but if I tried to reach towards my face with that hand, I'd smack myself in the face. Literally. The lower part of my arm was uncontrollable, so I'd tighten the muscles all through my arm and squeeze my hand tightly into a fist and as I raised my hand, it would fall, deadweight smack into my face. Happened at least 20 times. The first five or so times were accidental, but then, because I couldn't figure out what was happening, I kept trying to see if I could control it. But I couldn't. So I kept hitting myself in the face. For hours.

The other crazy thing happened during those days when I was taking too much percocet. I think this bit of weirdness confirms the dose was too high. See, even though I was feeling pretty crappy, I was bored. I'm not a fan of daytime tv, or really much tv at all, but the haze in my brain made it almost impossible to concentrate on anything, and if I tried to watch a show or do a crossword puzzle or read a book, I'd find myself very irritated with life in general and the situation I was in in particular. The one saving grace was the cats. I have great cats that enjoy doing the cat thing that includes kneading me, curling up next to me, and then purring loudly, which I think is all part of the way that cats express their feelings of adoration. Millie is my beautiful, big tabbie cat and she was delighted to be out of the basement with me, no dogs in sight, for hours at a time. At one point, I got out my beads and jewelry-making stuff, and after considerable thought (at least it seemed like I thought about it a lot), I decided to make a necklace that included all of the beautiful browns, oranges, corals, blacks, creams--all of the colors of Millie. Yep. A necklace that matches my cat. See, this is what drugs do to your brain.