Monday we had two goals: Visit the vascular clinic to get signed off to fly home, and go for a drive in the convertible with the top down.

We achieved both goals: A nurse practitioner looked at my wounds and deemed them “good” — she remarked on the quality of the closure stitching, so I’m guessing it was done well. I have no basis for comparison, but Dr. Lee said he tries to be careful. What I can say is that it’s hardly bled at all, the edges are clean and not at all red, and it’s not tender to gently touch around the incision area — all signs of healing well.

And in the afternoon, when the day warmed up a bit, we went for a drive. We were only out for an hour and I was exhausted at the end. But it was beautiful, even if I also longed to ride my bike up that hill. The hill will be there when I’ve recovered.

I didn’t feel as tired on Monday, or at least didn’t actually sleep for as much of the day. I still spent plenty of time horizontal, but mostly reading my third book of the trip and watching season 2 of Alta Mar with Mom instead of examining the back side of my eyelids.

In the evening, I skipped the Norco in favor of over-the-counter ibuprofen. That was my only wrong choice of the day, I think; I woke up a few hours later with more pain than I’d had for a bit. It’s hard to hold still when I’m asleep.

Tonight I’ll probably do Norco again, and then hopefully be done with it after that. But I’m trying to be reasonable about pain management, not letting it get out of control. My instinct is to just deal with it, but this kind of wound can hurt a lot — way more than anything I’ve ever experienced before. With judicious use of Tylenol and Ibuprofen during the day and one Norco at nights, we’ve kept everything pretty well managed without having to compromise on my cognition too much. I hate being doped up.

So that’s Monday. Today, Tuesday, we fly back to Paine Field in Everett. It’s already been a very long day, our plane is delayed by an hour, and there’s nowhere I can lie down to rest. I’m going to feel really, really tired by the time I get home.

I feel for Benji, who’s looking forward to me coming home ready to do all my normal activities of wrestling, carrying him, having snuggle fights, and such. I’ve tried to warn him in our daily calls, but he’s in for a tough time. We’ll just all do the best we can.