I like pleasure spiked with pain and music is my aeroplane

The surgery went off without a hitch. Actually, it went off with one hitch, and then continued from there in a hitch-free manner. After the anesthesia wore off, I was treated to 48 hours of some of the most intense pain I ever experienced. Luckily M and D from work took me in to nurse me back to health until my parents could get down here. I've spent most of this weekend in a haze of pain and Percocet, crying for someone to bring me ice, water, food, pills. I had to crawl on my back at the rate of one foot every ten seconds anytime I wanted to go the bathroom. In short, I've been a pathetic mess who's lucky enough to have people in my life that care about me to put up with my shit. Now I'm alone in my apartment for the next two weeks with only the occasional visitor to look forward to. If any of you out there love me, give me a call to make the days pass more quickly.

I want to type more, but the longer I sit in a chair, the more my feet swell to giant proportions. I'm supposed to keep them elevated and on ice. They gave me crutches to get around, but crutches as a concept only work when you have one bad foot. When there are two bad feet, crutches are just something harder than the floor to fall on. I'll stick to crawling for now. Keep me in your thoughts, my dears.