I am 3 weeks and 3 days post op. It isn’t over. I still have some pain. Jerry and I are walking our usual route, but I move slower than before especially on hills. By evening most days I feel completely wasted. And I am not sleeping well. That isn’t a new problem, and seems to be almost universal. We talk about it at Mah Jongg and compare strategies for getting a night’s sleep.
Last Sunday I thought the pain was getting worse and that I might have a urinary tract infection — common after hysterectomy. I called the weekend on-call number for the doctor and spoke to a nurse who said I should wait until Monday and see a doctor. Monday was a holiday so I waited until Tuesday by which time I was really feeling sick. The doctor who did the operation examined me and said I was doing “fabulously” and prescribed an antibiotic for the UTI. After 24 hours on the antibiotic I felt a lot better.
On Wednesday Jerry and I had a long day in town. He had an early morning appointment with the dermatologist who goes over him with a liquid nitrogen gun and freezes spots on his head, arms, back and chest. After that we had time to kill. I said, “I know what, lets go to the marijuana store!” I thought I might address some of my pain and sleep problems.
We had visited the marijuana store once before when one of my daughters was visiting. She had a little electronic atomizer thing and needed a refill for it. Since marijuana has been legalized in Washington State stores have sprung up all over the place. We took her to one of them. It was in a low nondescript building on the Guide Meridian Highway, some miles out of town. When we entered a pleasant middle aged lady greeted us and looked at our ID’s. The place had soft lighting, and display counters full of a variety of THC containing products. There was a show case of elegant blown glass water pipes. A pretty young woman was eager to help and show us the merchandise. She asked my daughter what sort of high she was interested in. My daughter replied that she liked a serene feeling. She found what she needed. The store is a cash only business. I guess there is a problem with banks and credit cards and the marijuana business.
Jerry and I went to the same store. This time the greeter was a good-looking young Asian/American man. He said he would help us. I explained that I wanted something for sleep and that I had heard of candies that you could suck. He was very helpful and showed me a bunch of different edibles, some that combined THC with melatonin. I chose some hard candies. They were expensive: $35 for 6 pieces. The package had a printed message that said, “This product may be illegal outside the State of Washington”. At another counter there was a man, grey bearded and in his late sixties, vigorously negotiating for some smokables. He was talking in a loud voice, declaring that he was a long time “cold warrior!” I glanced over at him, wondering what that meant. The young man helping us looked up quickly and said softly, “You’re in the marijuana store!”
Last night there were 5 of us playing Mah Jongg. Kay had a jar of orange cream that she had bought in a marijuana store in Tacoma. It had THC in it. She said that she rubbed it on the soles of her feet and on her wrists and arms. She couldn’t tell whether it made any difference in how she felt, but she slept well for the first time in a long time. I said that my candies made me feel a lovely peacefulness. I slept well after eating half a candy . I also thought that the pain was eased. We discussed the whole marijuana situation and compared memories of past experiences with smoking it (or brownies) in our youth. I went home and tried the candy again. I was disappointed this time and I thought it gave me an odd sort of headache. But I’m going to try it again tonight.
Recovery is work. It’s tempting to just loll about and act like a sloth; to lounge on a pile of pillows and read murder mysteries. Instead I find I have to do things I don’t have much enthusiasm for just now– walk, write, paint, cook, house-keep. I need to do these things to help mend my body. And I need to think about which things to eat, which pills to take, and how much to experiment with maryjane. When I’m well I just take all that stuff for granted. I find all this concentration on the physical body a bother. I am not a patient patient.