As long as I don't move, I'm fine. But then, inevitably, I have to pee, and so the moving must commence.
Walking is a slow, laborious chore that involves using my abdomen as little as possible. The very act of getting back in bed--slowly sit down on the edge of the bed, using my leg muscles to lower my torso, using my arms to drag my useless torso back into the bed, begging whoever is in the room to pick up my dead weight of feet and swing them into bed for me--leaves me panting.
But that's not the bad part.
The bad part is that my meds started wearing off ten minutes ago, I called the nurse fifteen minutes ago (in anticipation) and there is still no new meds for me. I am meds-less. Sans meds. Meds-free. And I'm SO not happy about it.