Episode 39 - Nothing like a little bed rest

I try to blog on Sundays.  It is a bit of therapy before the beginning of another week.  I missed last Sunday.  The pressure of life was too much to be tranquilized by a dose of blog and in layman's terms: I was so tense, you could open a pop bottle with my butt cheeks.  Stress comes and stress goes.  This round has passed, leaving me with only a zit on my chin - I believe my first in more than 20 years.

I had surgery this week on my foot.  I write this as I recuperate ... reclined in my bed on the second floor of our home.  Grandma doesn't venture to the "upper" region except for shower time.  She refers to her basement apartment as "upstairs" ... to which we've become accustomed. 

When DH brought me home from my outpatient surgery on my right foot, he lovingly delivered me to my recliner - got me an ice pack, snack, beverage and eventually supper.  The pain was bearable as the doctor had given me some long term numbing shots.  Grandma was sympathetic and allowed me to use one of her canes to assist in my trips to the bathroom.  During my first six hours of home recovery, any attempt to sleep was thwarted by Grandma's repeated call of my name.  I decided Day 2 might be better spent in the solitude of my bedroom.

Day 2 - DH brought me coffee (my first cup in 2 days) and then breakfast before he left for work. I was happily positioned in my bed with my foot propped, ankle iced...laptop, cell phone, land line extension and remote control all within reach.  It was wonderful.... peaceful... everything a recovering patient could ask for.

A little before 11:00 - a friend called to see how I was doing.  We chatted a few minutes before a familiar voice joined the conversation.

G:  Who is this?

Me:  Mom, I'm on the phone.

G:  Who is this?

Me:  Mom... it's me.

G:  Where are you?

Me: I'm upstairs in my bedroom. I'm on the phone talking to Sharon... hang up please.

G:  I didn't know you were here.

Me: I had surgery ... remember?  I can't walk very well. I'm talking to Sharon, hang up.

G:  You're on my phone.

Me: It's the house phone - there's only one. Just hang up.  (I can hear Sharon giggling in the background).

I halt Grandma's next comment by continuing my conversation with Sharon.  I sincerely doubt she hung up - but probably enjoyed eavesdropping on the remainder of my conversation.  Note to self: Use cell phone.

Cece had made some brownies to take on a beach trip with her volleyball teammates and I made a trip to the kitchen to help her cut them as well as get my lunch.  I got fresh ice and Cece helped me back to my bed with my lunch and beverage glass.... and then she and her brownies were off to the beach.

G:  Are you up there?

Me:  Yes.

G:  Where are you?

Me: In my bed.  (Grandma appears in the doorway)

G:  There's a mess in the kitchen.

Me: I know... I could only do so much standing on one foot.

G:  I think she made a cake.

Me:  She made brownies ... but I made the mess. I'm sorry.

G: You didn't leave egg shells out did you?

Me:  Yes I did.  I had a hard boiled egg on my salad and I left the shells on the island.  Don't worry about it.  We can get it later.

G:  Well I can clean it up... I just thought you should know it was a mess.

A short while later... I hear Grandma coming up the stairs...

G:  You still there?

Me:  Yes

G:  What about this? Do you think it can go down the garbage disposal?  (She is holding the core of a head of lettuce which I had thrown in the sink but failed to push down the drain).

Me: Yes... it's fine.

G:  I just thought I should check.  I can cut it up if you think I should.

Me: No, it will be fine.

Minutes later...

G:  Me again....

Me:  Yeah?

G:  Should I wash this?  (Now she is holding a fairly heavy, handled wok which we keep in the oven when not in use and Cece had removed to make her brownies.)

Me: No.  It's not dirty.

G: It looks dirty.

Me: No, it's just worn.  You don't need to wash it.

G: Well I can.

Me: But you don't need to.  Just put it back in the oven.

Again...

G:  Hello?

Me:  What do you want?

G:  Am I going to have music this afternoon?  Ruby is coming up and we wanted to listen to music.  Can you get music or not?

Me:  I can get music.  (I grab the second remote from the nightstand, grateful that DH has our house wired for convenience and tune The Gaithers in on the living room TV)  There you go.  Better go down cuz it's starting.

G:  She's not here yet.  She's walking.  Sometimes she drives, but today she's walking.

Ruby arrives and for the next two hours I enjoy 120 minutes of quiet solitude, interrupted only by the need to re-tune a Gospel program to the living room TV.

G:  Are you awake?

Me: Yes (would it make a difference?)

G:  She's gone now.  It's hot outside.

Excuse the lack of dialogue here - but Grandma proceeds to tell me about the dogs.  In the greatest of detail, their every move... I try to block it out.  My foot is beginning to hurt.  I've not been taking pain medicine because it hadn't been hurting.  I'm ready to turn in my medal for heroism.

Me:  If you go downstairs I'll get you more music...

G:  Oh I love that music..... Do you want me to get you anything?

Me:  No, I'm fine.  DH will be home soon - he's bringing Belle.

G:  Oh good.  (she returns to the living room... I put on more music)

DH and Belle arrived home shortly after Cece returned from the beach.  They asked how my day had gone. 

Me:  I think I need the drugs.

Although my recovery is estimated at 10 days... I'm hoping to be back to work on Monday.  The fact that my building has no passenger elevator and my office is located on the third floor will not deter me.  The only restroom is located on the ground level - but I can refrain from liquids if necessary.  There's a power lift machine being used on a project at the building next to mine... perhaps they can give me a ride up to a third floor window. 

Day 3 - Coffee/check.  Breakfast/check.  Pain medicine/check.  Locked my bedroom door/check.

So ends Episode 39