Oh, before I start, a note: due to circumstances beyond my control -- such as realizing I needed to time to recover from Tuesday's episode -- the recap will definitely be late in coming. But it will be as detailed and damned near essay-ish (we're talking fodder for college dissertations if my feelings are still correct) in length. There will be much analysis. Some of which has already been done at House's TWoP General Gabbery thread, so that'll be crossposted here, as well. Now, back to our regularly scheduled reminisces about how having brain surgery made me feel.

*deep breath* I remember waking up and feeling light-headed, not only because I was still under anesthesia and morphine, but because they'd just done some 'minor' reworking of both my scalp, the dura, I suppose, of my brain, and my aortic valve to insert the catheter for the shunt. I remember smelling a warm, slighly coppery smell and realized that it was a little bit of dried blood from the incision points that had flaked off and stuck to my pillow. That smell eventually became comforting and I think I've just realized why. It may be because I've been watching Dexter on DVD, but the smell of my blood let me know that I was still alive and that for the time being I was going to be as okay as I could be. It was reassuring that my heart was still pumping and my brain was still firing neurons despite having been a bit disturbed in the process of making me better. I remember the relief of the pressure inside my skull being gone -- it hadn't hurt very much, even though my neurosurgeon said it should have felt worse than it did and I apparently have a high pain tolerance -- and being very sleepy and really quite comfortable there in the hospital bed. My dad was there joking with me later on about the hair they'd cut off and my grandparents were there right when I woke up. I remember my granddad was the first person I saw, which has just hit me because he's gone now and that makes this a very special memory. I remember my granny was there and my mom. But even more, although they changed the sheets on my bed daily at Children's Hospital of Michigan, and even though they also changed my dressings and did all the antiseptic things they could --including giving me vancomycin, which I'm allergic to and gave me hives -- though oddly enough, only when I was awake -- I suppose to ward off any sepsis or whatever could have happened (I still have to take amoxicillin every time I go to the dentist and found my most recent prescription for it under my dresser while rearranging and cleaning my room yesterday -- it's still quite good for about three more months, don't worry) -- every time they changed my dressings the stitches would have a bit of blood on them where the wounds were still knitting.

And the smell was comforting. I was still alive and coppery and pennyish and the red stuff was mostly on the inside so everything was good.

Now if I could just figure out where the hell I could go around here that wouldn't take forever to walk to or be somewhere I've been several times now with no money to buy all the books I want (Borders, the agony of being surrounded by all those books -- especially the philosophy aisle which sends me into transports of wonder every time I go in it and is why I'm minoring in it whenever I can get this school crap straightened out), then things would be pretty cool. Because it's a bit cloudy outside which means the sun isn't glaringly bright and won't burn my retinas as soon as I step outside today and I'd love to go somewhere new if I could. But I'm alive and reasonably safe-feeling at the moment. My room feels more spacious now that I've finally figured out what to do with all my cabinets. I have an intense urge to stim (just moving around with my arms flailing because that makes me feel happy -- I flap my hands when I'm feeling happy or irritated, but my whole body moves when I'm really excited) so I'll probably put on some music just as soon as I finish rewatching the last episode of Fullmetal Alchemist that I started this morning.

On the downside, I have dishes to do simply to keep my mother from doing them because she sucks at them and half of them will end up back in the sink and my sister did them last. I would get on the bus (shocking, I know) on the other side of the street and take it to Fairlane, but I gave the last of my loose change to my sister so she could get to work. She brought me back Death Cab for Cutie's new CD, which is stuck in my head and absolutely wonderful. Then again, I love all their albums that I've heard so far and have a poster of them on my wall behind me, so...

Oh, right, bands I've discovered over the past few days that I should have heard a long time ago:

AC/DC, Foghat (seriously, 'Slow Ride' is the most awesome song ever right now and I have my favorite part set as my ring tone on my cell phone now *grins*), Blue Oyster Cult, Fine Young Cannibals -- which I remember from when I was little -- Cocksparrer, Frank Zappa, KISS (other than one song that everyone's heard and if you haven't you were probably born after the nineties started), Motörhead, Slade, The Kinks, The New York Dolls, The Smiths, The Who, The Yardbirds, The Small Faces, The Runaways, Velvet Underground, and Wishbone Ash.

Other stuff I found, I'd already heard when I was little, but let myself forget about. I'm still kicking myself today. *nods*