When I'm Ready
Sunday. So we are sitting here (actually I am sitting here, I assume you're sitting somewhere else) in the later afternoon after a day of naps, fuzzy headed naps and some deep breathing exercises to help the lungs open up. The blood pressure was 80/60 standing again this morning, but it was up to 120/80 just now, so maybe I'm going to start taking the clever little pills I overdosed on in the hospital again. Oh, and I'm avoiding going out to do any shopping. I don't want to go to the local Safeway because, well, I'm not sure: a store too far? I'm thinking of going down to the local 7-11 look alike because it's closer, but they don't have the right cat food and I'm thinking, well, I have enough here now to get Ms. Emmy through tomorrow morning and I can eat some of that swell instant oatmeal you microwave in a cup for dinner. Have I mentioned I have no appetite? I would have thought I would what with the rarity of the thing.
So I don't know (two paragraphs starting with “so” don't you know) what to say. Again, I think I probably have at least another week before I'll be ready to start the engine in any meaningful way. The condition isn't all that uninteresting - bouncing off the walls, walking between the living room to sit in a chair and watch what little there is on TV, then walking back to the bedroom to lie down and listen to the radio drifting off to sleep - but I suspect it can't go on forever. Still, the operation is behind me and there's nothing on the calendar ahead but recovery. Mr. H is off an another cruise with his lady friend this week - it's good to see someone still getting off his duff in such matters - and I believe I'm to get together with some of the usual crew in Berkeley come the end of the week. I put on a pair of one size smaller pants this afternoon and my goodness they fit - that's good - but it doesn't seem to have gotten me all that excited. You wondered why I wasn't posting?
Wednesday Time slips by. I'm better, still sleeping most of the day, the aches and pains are subsiding, the blood pressure is still low so I haven't started taking the pill I normally take to keep it in check. I've been going to breakfast in the mornings, although it takes more energy to get me going and my interest in what they have on the menu is pretty much zip. They still want me to keep it to very soft foods: Yogurt and the like. Which is OK, as my appetite is still zero, and the physical process of eating is no fun with the sore stomach.
I think I'll keep it to this. No photographs at the moment so I took a quick self portrait to slap on top and my lack of photographs more than anything else is keeping me from posting. Mr. H. called from Maine to see if was still alive, learning he leaves on his trip Friday. I'm still thinking of joining friends in Berkeley tomorrow in the early evening, but no food and no Guinness. I did meet with the surgeon on Monday, but didn't even bother to ask him about alcohol. Alcohol will come soon enough of its own accord and I'll let it tell me when I'm ready.