Pain Amnesia

I am surprised this morning by my post-op discomfort. While mild compared to my previous surgeries, it is curious to me that I apparently forgot that all of this hurts afterwards.

I guess I figured I was such an "old hand" at this surgery thing (and who really wants that experience on their resume?), it would be no big deal to do another. I really have moved on, and the memory of all those months struggling to get out of bed, twinging with movements that involve pectoral muscles, and general constant ouchiness somehow got put in the "delete" pile in my brain.

It's back. I have to be fragile and slow again. Drugs instead of wine with dinner. Sigh.

Daughter Juli came up with a great word for my mental state as well: Dysmorphia, the disconnect between body image and body reality. While Dr. Huddleston was cutting and stitching yesterday, I asked him about it. He says that in his profession of plastic surgery, dysmorphia is an actual pathological condition, where patients continually undergo surgery after surgery because they are never satisfied with the results.

But this morning with my now-remembered pains, I don't think I'll be going down that particular road to imagined perfection. As my friend Melanie says, "no surgery is minor, it all hurts." Codeine for breakfast, Amen.