the Vomits

Did I ever mention how much I hate vomiting? Well, I mean, who doesn’t? But for me, it’s like that only more so! I can’t just simply vomit, which would be bad enough. But instead I have to go through sometimes hours of tossing and turning and misery before the vomit comes to deliver me. “I’m a really bad thrower-upper,” I mentioned to Ben last night after an especially drawn out bout of it. “Yes, you are,” he agreed. The post-op experience has been much less painful painwise than I expected, but the prolonged nausea has been completely unexpected and horrid. Last night I threw up pure black cherry jell-o and even had the dry heaves for a while. Not an experience I care to repeat. My heart goes out to my friends Pippa and Martha who went through months upon months of severe morning sickness. How did they survive it? I can only wonder. I can’t keep my pain medication down, but that’s okay because the pain is holding steady at sissy level and I can handle it just fine. I’m achy and creaky, but my miniature incisions are no big deal. The upside to all this? Rapid weight loss!