Meet Frankenfoot the Second. Unlike a lot of second-generation inventions (the calculator, television sets and cell phones, to name a few), my second foot surgery resulted in a surprisingly larger take-home package than the surgery on my right foot.
After much skittering sideways and goose-like head bobs, DaBoys finally surrendered their fear of my new appendage when they realized that it rendered me inescapably supine.
The worst part of the day was getting up at 5 to be at the hospital by 6:30. I wanted plenty of time for one last walk with DaBoys through the cool and serenely quiet neighborhood. There was moonlight, a few clouds, a handful of stars and just us. I even let Sammy pull us through an extra lap or two, since by all accounts it's going to be a good two or three months before they'll find me at the end of their leashes again. Which is not to say I won't be at the end of my rope before then, but that's another blog post.
I've stopped thinking of Ken as Poor Old Ken (POK) and decided to call him Amazing Old Ken cuz he's A-OK in this nursey type role. I know this is his second time through this, but he has had everything I've needed ready and waiting for me before I even knew I needed anything. What a sweetie.
It's now been 18 hours since surgery and I'm still not in pain. How amazing is that? I am getting sleepy, though, so methinks it's time to sign off and rest up for another day of couch potato-ing.
And allowing two puppies some quality time with Frankenfoot, their new best friend.
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