Please note: this entire blog is me whining about surgery recovery. Please read responsibly.

I had my second sinus surgery on April 23rd. The first one was such a good time, I just had to have another go round!

Just kidding. The first surgery was a complete disaster that actually made me worse, not better.

What is really bothering me right now though, is that I “recovered” from my first surgery in about two weeks. I was back to my normal (chronically ill) self in no time. Still sick. Still experiencing garden variety of sinus symptoms, which were all about to get progressively worse. But I felt “normal.”

Now I am two and a half weeks into recovery and I want to throw myself off a building. Because not only is my healing requiring far more time than I can spare, but we have been having what feels like non-stop storms which makes a lot of my symptoms worse because I am still sensitive to barometric pressure changes.

Since surgery, I have gotten the two worse migraines I have ever had, hands down. One bad enough I called my doctor at 4am because it was so painful I thought something had burst in my nose and it had seeped into my brain. While I’m not having an active migraine, I am experiencing intense facial pressure, congestion, sore throat, post-nasal drip, and all of this is set to the backdrop of hourly saline sprays and three times daily saline rinses.

I never, ever want to do another saline rinse again.

But the fun doesn’t stop there. My sleep schedule is re-regulating because apparently when you have lifelong breathing issues, you don’t end up getting a lot of sleep. So my body went from running on fumes to catching actual Zzzs. But now it’ll get four to five hours of sleep and decide that’s plenty! It’s never gotten this much sleep in its life! Time to wake up at 2am and skulk around the living room, annoying the cats.

The worst part is, I can desperately try to get back to sleep and my asshole body is pretty sure that’s boring. Let’s just stare at the ceiling and hope the void consumes us!

I realize all of this is part of recovery and it will pass. But it won’t pass nearly fast enough for me.

What I really hate is the cognitive side effects. The confusion is real. I forget where I put things, I can’t think through tasks, I am utterly incapable of executing things I would normally have no problem with. Today I lost a bad of saltwater taffy and my father in law had to find it because I literally had no idea what I did with it a mere 24 hours ago.

Yesterday I was going to bake a cake using plant-based butter to ensure a dairy-intolerant friend could enjoy it with us and did I even remember the non-dairy butter existed in the refrigerator when it came time to bake? Of course not. Most of the time I find myself staring at something off at the distance, silently wishing my face would stop hurting.

The worst part: I am so close and I am not there yet.

The interesting part about finding out I have abnormal nasal anatomy that was preventing me from breathing properly is that it is entirely possible that this had a waterfall effect on my health and this surgery could potentially resolve multiple health problems I have had my entire life.

For example, before surgery I would get motion sickness over practically nothing. Back in 2009 I lasted about 45 minutes into Paranormal Activity in a movie theater before I told the person I was with, I have to leave because the shaky handheld camera was making me want to puke. In current day, this motion sickness was so severe I could literally see two frames of a jerky YouTube video and I had to cover my eyes. The last two cruises we went on, I was mainlining anti-nausea meds and barely eating.

I decided to test my motion sickness post-surgery and Dan found a video of a woman holding a phone out in front of her and running while she prattled on about… something. I watched the entire video of her run and felt nothing. I didn’t see the motion behind my eyes. I didn’t feel the lurch in my stomach. I didn’t have instinct to cover my eyes. I watched this video bounce all over the place and just marveled at this woman’s arm strength as she pounded the pavement with her phone aloft.

And this is just the beginning. Over the next few months I could see a lot of changes. But right now I am getting migraines and waking up at 3am with my face aching.

I have been so sick for so long, I just want to know if I still am.

Because seriously: how many chronically ill people get the chance to potentially resolve some of their health problems? — Not even saying everything will be resolved. This is all a bunch of possibilities with no certainty. — But come on, I am waiting to see what the rest of my life will be like and I am ready to find out now.

Or maybe tomorrow?