And on the seventh day she rested.... by Adam

So the recovery process hasn't gone as smoothly as one would hope. The pills they prescribed have wiped her out. After coming home on Monday Amy slept like Nick Nolte after a hard weekend.

There must be a hormonal reaction to the antibiotics or the Joaquin Phoenix-strength narcotics they gave her, because each night around 9pm Amy starts to loose it. By 9:30 she could teach the ladies on "The View" a thing or two about crazy. Tuesday night she started talking about how something was horribly wrong and that her swelling, which was nothing, was freakishly abnormal. She insisted that her eyebrows wouldn't move and she kept staring at me and doing a Groucho Marx style eyebrow raise to prove her point. Later she insisted that her ear was lopsided as if it had been taken off and sewn back on, and I had to remind her they hadn't removed the ear Mr. PotatoeHead-style, but only made an incision. It has been heart-breaking to see her so nauseous and so weak, but I have to remind myself that it was full blown surgery. I bet she hasn't been able to stay awake for more than 3 hours since returning home.

Thursday we went to the hospital for the follow up and the poor girl could hardly walk. As soon as the doctor saw her he told her she looked like she was two weeks post-operative and the wound was healing wonderfully. He confirmed the pathology results were benign, barely acknowledged my terrified report of the 5 day "dry spell" and was gone as soon as he arrived. I got some great footage of the nurse pulling out the stint, but I will spare the home viewers.


They scheduled us to come back Tuesday to remove the stitches. We walked out of the doctors office and Amy started to dry heave as soon as we reached the elevators. The poor girl just dropped to the floor and ralphed into a plant. One has to admire her instincts, she found the only receptacle available and managed to use the native foliage as a screen at the same time (she can even make hallway puking look good!) Unfortunately the garbage can you see in the picture arrived ex post facto and played only a supporting role. As she was dumpin' her breakfast into the palm tree, I ran down the hall and scared the hell out of some admin gal as I threw the door open and grabbed her garbage can without a word of explanation.

We took her back to the car in a wheelchair because she was so groggy and in such pain. Luckily she reversed tact on the drive home and instead of rolling down the windows she went with sweltering heat.

One thing that kind of surprised me was the K-flex Fiber Powder the doctor prescribed to help with "the situation". I think we are all accustomed to the disturbing list of possible side effects that accompany modern pharmaceutical advertising. But nothing could have prepared me for the Tolstoy-like directions that were bolted to the back of the K-flex Fiber bottle. Check this out.

All I wanted to do was find out the size of an adult dose. Instead I had to read 5 pages of terrifying possible results that made me feel dirtier than if I had just read the original V. C. Andrews manuscript. Lets be honest, if there is anything that is self explanatory or "point and shoot" it should be a laxative. You take it, and then IT happens. I think we all remember the wonderful scene in Ghost Town when Ricky Gervais takes the turbo laxative. But this was just scary.

The one thing that has really cheered her is all of the cards, flowers and gifts that had been arriving. On behalf of Amy I want to thank everyone for their thoughtfulness. It brightened her day to see all of her friends thinking of her.
I don't know what Amy is going to do when she reads this, but its just too good not to share.