what a difference a week makes
One week ago, it was a beautiful Sunday, following a nasty Saturday. I walked to Illinois and noticed how high the Mississippi was - there's a statue of Lewis and Clark that was erected/installed last fall, and Lewis (I think it's Lewis) was up to his chest in the river. Maybe I walked to the grocery store too, I can't remember. I know I did my usual cleaning/tidying/sweeping to keep the dustballs and the cat hair at bay. Tuesday I had foot surgery. I was woefully overconfident that it would be a quick recovery. Nope. Wednesday and Thursday were fairly blurry for me. The pain medication certainly had some effect, but did not remove the pain by any stretch of the imagination. But narcotics muted the pain and I was grateful for that. I did a lot of whimpering, I think. Friday I started to climb out of the pit - I haven't been flat on the couch in two whole days! That's progress - the first two days it was oh so awful if I had my foot lower than my heart - you know, what with gravity and blood pumping to the foot. Now I've cut way back on the pain medication and can sit in a chair with my foot on a foot rest all day. I can walk to the bathroom or the kitchen. But oh the idea of walking to Illinois! Or even the elevator. Or even sitting in a car, much less driving a car. But little by little, day by day, it's getting less awful. Still, I'm astonished that I paid money for someone to do this to my foot. And my foot, at least the part I can see, doesn't look any different. Shouldn't it look different? Hmmm. I miss walking, I miss showers, I miss sleeping on my side. I'm eating too much - not making good food choices, considering that I'm not expending much energy, so I shouldn't need much nourishment. I'm teaching myself to play solitaire. I'm getting a little stir-crazy in my loft - I don't think I'm well-suited to staying in one place this long. Soon things will be back to normal (or better!), but just not as soon as I thought.-- Nan
