The evening after PRP, after having taken 1 tramadol in the Walgreens parking lot, I sat on my couch with my husband and dog and watched a few Modern Family episodes. After about 30 minutes or so, the tramadol kicked in and it no longer felt like someone was knifing me in my Achilles.  But I didn’t eat much from the nausea, which began during the procedure and got worse during the drive to Walgreens. Tramadol, of course, didn’t help the nausea.

Even though I was exhausted, I couldn’t sleep that night. For starters, I was trying to sleep with a boot on, which was making normal side-sleeping difficult. My chest also itched terribly, likely from the tramadol.

I dozed off and on until about 3am, when I decided I was not going to sleep unless I ate something. Fortunately the knifing pain in my Achilles had shifted to something more like general soreness.

I didn’t want to wake up my husband, and didn’t think I could manage the crutches in the dark, much less go down the stairs with them. But I realized I could crawl without weighting my left ankle. So I crawled out of the bedroom, and then used my hands, my good foot, and my butt to get down the stairs. Our ground floor is all hard surfaces, so crawling wasn’t exactly comfortable, but it was doable.

Hummus and bagel: reward for my journey to the kitchen!

I finally made it to the kitchen. I was able to get on my knees to get a bagel and hummus out of the fridge. I ate them sitting on the floor, without a plate, because those were too high to get.

On my way back upstairs I took a few tylenol, and was glad the pain had subsided enough that I could stay off the itch-inducing tramadol.

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