I feel like I'm never going to feel human again and get back to myself! I'm so backed up in my writing, and even after just a couple of days, my coloring, VR, and scented candles seem like long-lost memories. I still have no sense of taste or smell.

I'm writing in my notebook while charging at the dead emergency room without glasses because my eyes are still watery and my glasses keep fogging up. At 10:00, I have to take two Oxy and Tylenol because the doctor, who was kind enough to call me directly yesterday, said taking out the packing at 11:00 is going to hurt, even if it's only for 2 seconds. Even Becky said it hurts like hell.

My nose is still bleeding, but almost all my pain has been first in my throat, then my forehead, and then my eyes. My eyes have never been this irritated! I wish I didn't need glasses or have long lashes.

When it was finally time to be wheeled to the OR after the “party hat” went on, about 15 minutes before I was taken in, the nurse sprayed a calming medication (I forgot its name) into my mouth, which helped relax me. I could feel it kicking in by the time I got into the brightly lit OR with the anesthesiologist, respiratory therapist, and surgical nurse. Almost all the medical staff there were women, which I liked. They wheeled the gurney up to the operating table and had me shimmy over onto it.

They put cuffs on my calves that gently massage them to keep blood flowing. That's the only part that felt good. I'm a shallow breather, probably due to being a trained singer, so the anesthesiologist had to remind me to take deep breaths while she held the plastic oxygen mask over my face. This time, I knew it was coming when I was going out. I wasn't taken by surprise, and it wasn't instantaneous. I saw the anesthesiologist reach over and inject something into my IV, and that was it. Like literally a 3-second fade-out.

Next thing I know, I'm waking up to, “Hey Jodi, can you take a deep breath for me?” My eyes blinked open, and I could see the recovery nurse hanging over me and hear this beeping sound the machine would make every time I went into shallow breathing mode. Tom was just being led around the corner, and I guess she had been trying to coax me for a while, lol.

Although heavily groggy, the next thing I noticed was my mustache bandage and watery eyes. The doctor later told me that it was normal (until he saw me). Working so close to the tear ducts can do that, and a friend who had nose surgery said she experienced the same thing. So I didn't think much of it at first, as annoying as it was.

I couldn't pee until after I got home because I was so dehydrated. Been having electrolyte drinks every day. It's times like these I wish my cyber besties, along with Jessie and Becky, lived nearby. I've been keeping them updated on Messenger, though.

Anyway, it's a beautiful, partly cloudy day. I hope this will give me my sleep/life back so I can enjoy the outdoors more. I'm just afraid to get my hopes up after 12 years of steady suffering. I still fear something else will fuck with my sleep, or I'll go into a new long-term debilitating problem, but I already made up my mind that I won't stand for it.

Tom woke me up by accident yesterday. Yeah, right after I fell asleep, he accidentally dropped some silverware, and in this tiny house with above-door vents, which I hate, the sound went right through.

Just used the bathroom again as we continue to charge and took the Tylenol and Oxy. I'll write till I'm too drowsy. I was given prednisone, which I have to make sure I don't take on an empty stomach, and amoxicillin, which I hope won't trigger a yeast infection or else I'll have to ask Rhonda for Diflucan.

Anyway, the traffic and planes here are nothing I've ever experienced before in my life. It's horrible. Construction and accidents everywhere. The construction is starting to remind me of Phoenix. Couldn't even enjoy my music on my phone because people's boom stereos would override it.

On the way back from the ENT now but will update in my next entry.