An American in Provence

Thanks everyone for your kind comments.

So here I am, rattling around in our apartment, watching tv, sleeping, and moaning about the pain.

On Thursday I managed to shuffle to the mail box to send in my sick leave forms (I have decided that French Administrative officials are sadists- just got home from the hospital after being cut open? You have 48 hours to mail in the forms!) and to the pharmacy to pick up my doliprane, oh so helpful. I was amazed by the human body's ability to log tens of hours of sleep in a 24-hour period.

Friday, I shuffled to our generalist doctor's office. Elderly ladies were passing me. Still bloated from the surgery. I am convinced here is what happened:
Step 1) Put patient to sleep
Step 2) Make incisions where needed
Step 3) Inflate belly with air so as to be able to see/work properly
Step 4) Insert camera/scissors
Step 5) Perform necessary surgery
Step 6) Remove instruments
Step 7) Sew up incisions.
Heck, I am no surgeon, but even I can see there is a step missing in the above procedure.
Step 6b) Deflate patient like some disgusting flesh balloon before sewing back up!

I feel like I swallowed an inner tube and it has settled around my waist, like a boa constrictor who swallows a small rodent whole and you can still see the form of the animal about midway through the snake. I can barely zip up my jeans to go on these exciting excursions, but I don't have any other options- too hot for sweatpants, plus they have a hole in the rear.

So I shuffled over to the doctor's office, with two competing thoughts in my mind:
Thought 1) We really must find a closer doctor
Thought 2) But he knows our medical history since we moved here

The doctor and mini doctor spent a good half an hour jamming their fingers into my belly, and finally concluded that I am okay, just have to deal with the pain and swelling until they pass. As long as I don't develop a fever or my belly becomes hard, I should be okay.

In a fit of sentimentality, I ordered a bouquet of roses to be sent to the nurses at the hospital, to thank them for taking care of me during my stay. I mean really, I do admire nurses. Their job must be rather difficult and often overlooked. They mopped up my vomit, mopped up me, inserted and removed catheters, gave me a bed bath, and all the rest.

Hats off to nurses!

Now the apartment is a mess, I am in desperate need of toilet paper and peanut butter, and getting tired of watching TV. I can't sleep well at night and don't even have an appetite for chocolate. Help!