No really, let me get that for you.

Yes, I am an evil drugged up train wreck today. And, I don't care. I'm in too much pain to care. The sad reality is that my post-operative pain is not that much greater than the pain that prompted the surgery. Of course that's with drugs, but still. I also have a gum ball sized bruised lump on my hand where nurse Umbridge dug around for a vein for almost 10 minutes while staring through me with her dead eyes saying, "you're right, your veins ARE hard to find!" I yelled at her but didn't throw any crackers on the ground. The last time I had surgery, the post-op recovery nurse wouldn't give me a pain pill until I'd eaten something. But I wasn't hungry, I was in pain, and in a fit of pain induced temper tantrum I threw the crackers she wanted me to eat on the floor. Now I hope to lie in bed in my drugged haze devising knitting projects for a couple of days. I also stumble around the house and swear a lot, but that's not really anything new.