This morning, I had my first cup of coffee in 7 days. And even though it still sits downstairs waiting to be finished, it was wonderful. Bumping it upstairs is not an option, but when I slither back down for the mid morning bathroom trip I will again sip it savoringly. Thank You daughter.
Feeling less like the Human Torso or Crab Woman, and trying to be upright more. I suck using crutches. No patience, no upper body strength, no balance. How pitiful is it to opt for a wheelchair out of fear of failure and falling?
My daughter has been my lifeline in my time of convalescence. She checks on me, feeds the cats, brings in the mail, fills the ice trays, and brings me warm meals on the days she is here . If nothing else I'm going to be thinner and stronger after this. I was badly out of shape before the surgery from months of no exercise, and grossly overweight from said non activity and a thyroid running rampart.
I miss my little dog. I miss him body bumping me for more petting and fawning. I'm afraid he's wondering why I abandoned him. But I know it would be tough for me to get him out several times a day so I'm grateful he's in a safe place with good dog people.
A couple days I have felt forsaken, alone with no one to take care of me. Would I have to get one of those first alert alarms in case I fall and can't reach a phone. Will I die alone like my mother? But I know I am lucky to have as much help as I do and should be grateful for the care. My aforementioned dog sitters, such a weight off my mind. My ride home. My long distance buddy calling to check on me. Stacks of magazines from a friend to keep me entertained. Words with Friends. My sister giving up a week of her time to help me when she could be visiting her three little grandsons. Interaction with FB friends. The cat who hasn't left my side, rather head.
And of course my daughter who I am so proud of for bearing the weight of an immobile mother while working full time, volunteering at SPCA and running her own life.
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