No Smoking

(Note – I am publishing this a few days late… this was written on the 16th)

I am a full 16 days in on no smoking.

In the past when I had quit smoking, I had a phase where I would hack up all kinds of black gunk, especially in the morning. “Thanks” to the pain medicine I’ve been on since my March surgery, I haven’t coughed – or sneezed, for that matter – in months. How am I going to get rid of this smoker’s lung if I can’t expel the garbage I’ve accumulated in there?

If there is a doctor in the house and you’re reading this, please advise.

I try to force a cough on occasion, but it isn’t productive and I really can’t cough too deeply because of the back pain. I know I won’t throw a rod, but I still have existing damage (that will hopefully be fixed in ten more days, I am so excited).

So, as you have probably noticed, I haven’t even been able to produce much artwork, even digitally, since my Valentine Part 2 piece. I’ve been having tingling, and now numbness, creeping from my fingers into my hands. Not to mention the finger-to-neck pain. Even typing this much, I have to stop and shake out my hands, which really doesn’t do a whole lot. Time is more of a factor in slowing and reversing the numbness than anything else.

Plus, most of my day is spent reclined on the couch or in the bed.

I had my surgery prep/pre-admission today. Tests, blood, urine, expectations, instructions, questions. This is all new to me.

My first/previous back surgery was done on an emergency basis. I ended up losing function in my left leg and gaining excruciating pain – all in the matter of a normal Saturday. After an ER visit that evening, I still went another four days at home before my pain doctor sent me directly for surgery.

I’ve been asked on more than one occasion if I was involved in any type of motor vehicle accident or any other specific injury. No. I believe it is partly due to genetics (my mother and other members of her family have bad backs), and partly due to hauling massive amounts of wood the first eighteen years of my life.

We had a wood burning stove for Wisconsin Winters as I was growing up, and I was Number One assistant in the hard work. Plus, being a Codependent, I haven’t spent as much time taking care of myself as I have taking care of others.

Let this be a lesson – as much as you love those you love, and make it your life’s passion to care for others in every way you can because that’s who you ARE, you cannot continue to care for them if you are physically, emotionally, mentally incapable.

Nature has her way of body-slamming your ass to the ground, and pinning you there until you are forced to “cry uncle”.

And She will pin you again – oh,yes, She will. And you will be forced to surrender each time – until you finally learn to get back up and take care of yourself first.

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