It’s been officially one week since my tonsillectomy and I’m treading dangerously close to losing my mind.

In an effort to stave off a nervous breakdown, I’m blogging. This will have one of two possible outcomes: I effectively avoid a meltdown and you are entertained, or I do not avoid a meltdown and you are entertained. Perhaps it’s wishful thinking that you’ll be entertained! 😉

I was warned MANY, MANY times how awful a tonsillectomy at 43 would be. My doctor warned me; his nurse warned me; the secretaries at my eye doctor’s office warned me; my coworkers warned me; the strangers in the check out line warned me. I had plenty of warning. However, nothing actually PREPARED me for this past week.

The day of the surgery went great! It was a snap! I was out of the hospital in about five hours and my pain level was LOW. Day two was the same. I’m going to be honest: I was pretty proud of my healing properties because I was doing a bang up job of getting better! Who said this would be so terrible? Wimps! This was a piece of cake! These next two weeks were gonna be like a vacation!

And then we hit the weekend. OH. MY. LORD. The pain! Imagine swallowing razor blades while simultaneously holding a tennis ball in your throat. Good times. My lovely doctor also did not order me enough pain medication to last me through the weekend so Sunday morning found my 16 year old driving me to Urgent Care for a Rx for some liquid pain killer. On Sunday night, I was literally curled up into a ball, crying on the couch from the pain. I’ve had some good moments here and there but mostly this has been as awful and as painful as I was warned.

I think the shocking part has been what a toll this has taken on me emotionally. I was basically expecting the pain aspect …. The no eating, no sleeping, no feeling comfortable ever part. I was not prepared or expecting the emotional wreck I would become.

I have coloring books. I have colored many pictures. I have Netflix. I have watched many MASH episodes. I have DVDs. I have viewed all Harry Potter movies. I have an iPhone. I have played many games of Solitaire. I have two teen girls. I have endured many hormonal meltdowns (some of them not even mine!). I have prepared dinners that I haven’t eaten, washed dishes that I haven’t used, and rubbed the backs of people who did NOT have surgery seven days ago. These have all been attempts to cope with the vast amount of “couch time” that I’ve been forced to endure.

I am not a person who deals well with “down” time. Even on my days off from work, I need to be busy. I need to be doing things. I need to fill my time with activities because when I don’t, my thoughts are relentless. That’s never been more clear to me than this past week. Add in the Vicodin (which, while really needed for the pain, creates even more emotional instability) and I’m a total wreck.

Have you ever felt desperately and utterly alone? That’s what couch time does to me. My mind pulls me into all of those dark places where I feel like there’s something very wrong with me. I’m a terrible mother, a mediocre nurse, a crappy daughter, an awful sister, and NO ONE would ever choose to love someone like me! Have you ever felt that? Have you thought, “Good golly, if people knew what I actually think about and what goes on inside my head, they would stay far, far away from me!” And I’m using my coping skills, you know, but my thoughts are just so loud and never-ending!

Tomorrow my girls leave for their dad’s and I really will be completely and utterly alone through the weekend. G has made reservations for us on Easter Sunday, and while I’m not sure if I’ll be capable of eating, getting off the couch will be good for me. But my Good Friday and my Holy Saturday are going to be very quiet. And I’m afraid. I’m afraid of that much time with just me without the capability of getting the hell out of his place.

So, as I would do with my patients, what do you say we create a plan of action? It won’t be a lot of action because of the pain, but I can at least come up with some things to distract me from the madness of my mind. Like hanging Christmas lights! Yes! Those make me so happy and they’ve been in a pile on my floor for months, now. And spackling the holes in my bathroom so I can transform it into my Wonder Woman bathroom! Female empowerment! And I can find an easy yoga to do that will get me moving without increasing the pressure in my head/throat. And hanging my paintings that have been behind the couch since we moved in here. Nesting! Settling in! Doing the details! Yes! All those things that I haven’t had time for and will make me happy when I look around my new home.

Did you see what we did there? We turned it around! Instead of allowing myself to be overwhelmed and afraid, we came up with a tangible list of actions that will help create good, soothing, healing emotions. Just in time for Easter, the time of Resurrection. New beginnings. Hopefully without headaches, y’all!