I meant to talk about my research, and thought I had a good plan for the next couple of weeks.

Then there was a problem.

It was a pain in my lower right side that started, oh, in July.  It was more annoying than anything. Because I’m awesome, I figured I’d bring it up at my next doctor’s appointment.  In September.  So the ache stayed.  Sometimes it got worse, but mostly it felt like I had been kicked in the right side.  Then it conveniently ramped itself up about a week before I went to the doctor.  Now I could go in complaining of stabbing pains that were now hurting, not just annoying.

I went from one doctor, to the ER, back to the same doctor, then to a new doctor, and it was decided that I needed a diagnostic laprascope done to figure out what the hell was going on.  One doctor said appendix, the other said adhesions or something else.  They both performed the surgery, and the only thing I knew for sure was that my appendix was most likely going to be coming out.

That was two weeks ago tomorrow.  My appendix did go, along with a lot of adhesions and scar tissue.  My mom came down to be my own private nurse (it works out nicely that she has been a registered nurse since 1970).  I have been mostly laying on the couch, recuperating, and not doing much research.

I’m  recuperating nicely from the surgery, and my three incisions apparently look ‘beautiful’.  This was said by both my parents, as the three of us pulled up our shirts this weekend to compare stomach scars.  I, as the beneficiary of the least invasive surgery, and 2009 technology, do have much better looking scars.  Or I will, once they heal.  They are still skeeving me out a little bit.

I still get tired more easily than I’d like.  I can’t pick things up that I normally would (because I like to pick up heavy stuff).  It’s hard to go from being the independent do’er of things to being the one that asks for help.  When I do try, I am either quickly reminded by the healing stomach to stop, or am quickly reprimanded by my boy.  I’m trying to remember to ask for help all the time.  Considering how I normally am, I don’t think I’m doing that bad.

I drove today, for the first time since the surgery.  I’ve been a passenger in a car, and that’s uncomfortable.  Driving was not making me happy at all.  My head should be cleared from the anesthesia, but you apparently use a lot more of your stomach than you realize when driving.  Well, that and the seat belt doesn’t help.  I’m glad I only drove 10 or so miles today.  By the time I got back home,  I was ready to be done.

So I’m still resting, but there’s a conference in a little over three weeks that I’ve got two papers to present at.  Which means I should do them.  One’s going to look at a nationalism bias in commentary of a sporting event – which is actually the pilot study for my dissertation – and the second is a comparison of how much coverage boys versus girls are getting in college newspapers.  One lit review is currently done, the 2nd is being worked on.  The actual research needs to be done, so I’ll have a nice little project to work on as I continue to try to let myself heal and not overdo.