A Week Out

Well, it's been a week of being post-op. One week. Only 5 more to go before I can begin to put weight on my foot. Five weeks. I really should quit whining. I have two sisters who had to have the same knee replacement done twice in a row because of a screw-up. Yes...there are many people worse off than I am. But it is still no fun to be laid up.

On the bright side, the sky is blue, it was 80 degrees today and I was awake the whole day. It really is a lovely time of year here in the desert. I feel like a plague to CoolGuy because he has to do practically everything for me. And I'd like him to do more: dig up my garden and plant some tomatoes and basil so we can get the caprese salad machine cranking. I'm confident he'll get to it. He's gotten to everything else...
a drink,
my lotion,
a cup of pudding,
another pillow,
cookies to dunk in my milk,
the mail,
the newspaper,
the kittycat,
a ride to the doctor,
a cantelope,
another blanket,
the remote control
...you get the drift of being the person who really can not do much beside lay there and ask for things. He assures me he's just fine and keep on asking. And he really means it. That's why he's the cool guy.