My brother will have to open his opium den without me.

So I'm doing better now. The surgery was about a 5-6 inch cut along my bikini line (ala C-section). It's healing nicely, altho there is a pukey yellow bruise starting to form just above it. And it's a little swollen, so I have even more of a pot belly right now. The pain was ok altho it confused me terribly. It started out that I couldn't tell if I had to pee or it was just the pain. The two felt so similar. But I know I'm getting better now because I can tell the difference. It still hurts a lot if I sneeze or laugh, but at least now I know when I have to pee.
I have also discovered a couple of thing about myself. Firstly, morphine makes me panicky. When I woke up from the surgery, I felt fine. Only momentary disorientation, and then my head cleared. Then the nurse asked how was the pain. At the time, it felt fine because they had given me something when I was under that was NOT morphine. So when the pain did act up, I told the nurse and they gave me morphine. Soon, my chest felt tight, my breathing became fast, and I felt vaguely feverish and nauseated, but I didn't feel any pain. Everyone tried to tell me that it was an aftereffect of the anesthesia. So I bore it out. Finally it calmed down and the pain came back. They gave me the morphine again. It happened all over again. I KNEW it was the morphine and I didn't let them give it to me a third time. They gave me something else, using a BIG needle in my leg, which worked much better. I did not like that morphine at all.
They also gave me a prescription for Percocet-lite, Endocet. It says to take 1-2 tablets every 4 hours as needed. My doctor also recommended taking ibuprofen. So I started out taking the ibuprofen regularly and took one tablet of Endocet if the pain came back before the next round of ibuprofen. Yesterday, I took 2 (by mistake). Wow, did that feel awful. I felt light-headed and warm, vaguely feverish, and nauseated. I don't know if I was acting loopy, but my sister says that I didn't look good. It took me the rest of the day to recover.
So the overall conclusion is that narcotics and I can never be good friends. Oh well. At least I don't have a grapefruit of a cyst inside me anymore.