Every post-surgery day brings a new first or two. Today, I napped in my own bed. It wasn’t an easy nap with ponies-and-bonbon dreams, because this was only the second time in eighteen days I tried stretching the rearranged ligaments in that direction. But: I was able to sleep a bit in my super-more-comfy-than-the-couch bed and it’s only a matter of time before I’m spinning the spinner and going full-metal Right Foot: Blue and Left Hand: Red.
Yesterday’s firsts included washing my own lower legs in the shower and walking up a step with my right foot and without thinking about it. Saturday, I walked around the house most of the day without my cane because I am unbelievably brilliant at healing up. Yes, I’m seeing these ordinary events as proof that I AM A SPECIAL SNOWFLAKE.
Pete went grocery shopping this morning. I demanded a mop and the good almond floor cleaner so I can do small household tasks and/or polish my chimneysweep/Tevye’s daughters routines for the talent show down at the Jiffy Lube. You can’t let those skills slide.