The Face Lift Chronicles: The Second Week

On Monday, exactly one week after the operation, I woke up with a spring in my step, and took a 20-minute walk--it was too much, too soon. I had to take an ibuprophen, ice the back of my throbbing head and take a two-hour nap. I enjoyed closing my eyes in the morning and listening to a CD I made. In the afternoon, I drove to the drugstore and bought more of my homeopathic medicines. It felt great to be outside. Driving was much easier than walking, though I’m still not a pretty picture: yellowish, swollen, wrinkled and red around the eyes.
I watched two movies: Bottle Shock, which I suppose was meant to ride on the coattails of that other wine movie set in San Luis Obispo (I enjoyed both, flawed though they were), and the Illusionist, which I had seen in the theater and fell in love with all over again. Jessica Biel is way pretty, though I think Edward Norton’s voice is a little high—he can bring on the passion, though, and that was what counted. I seem to be obsessing over period films with dark lighting.
Tuesday, I thought I’d take it easy. Got up at 8, washed my face, and went promptly back to bed to sleep until 10. I AM enjoying my dreams. This one was about living in the same house with my mother, and wanting my boyfriend (a beautiful J. Eagle look-alike, a lover from many years ago in Pennsylvania) to spend the night. A romance novel dream; I'd be embarrassed if I knew any better. It felt great, especially the fact I had confidence that I would just tell my mother he was going to sleep over, not beg for her approval-- though I fretted that I was getting male-pattern baldness (a tonsure, no less). I checked when I woke up—still OK. But the stress from the operation on my body is causing me to shed like a cat in a heat wave. I need to check out various hair-loss remedies, though the only ones I've seen are either ineffective or only work on real male pattern baldness. Time for more vitamin B.