Gus could probably use some prayers, too, because he has to deal with me not being allowed to eat or drink after midnight on Monday. I get HANGRY if I don't eat about every 4-5 hours, so it's probably not going to be pretty by the time I get to surgery 14 hours later. Poor guy.
I understand that I'm going to have a spiffy cast up to my knee on the back half of my leg with cotton packing on the front, and all of that will be wrapped with an Ace bandage. Apparently it weighs a ton, so it should be loads of fun trying to keep that up off the ground and not walking on it. I probably should've done some thigh-strengthening exercises.
I have crutches, a knee scooter, two shower chairs, a raised toilet seat/chair, a spiffy cover for my cast so I can shower without getting it wet, mounds of pillows to elevate my leg - and of course, the obligatory cans of Sprite, vegetarian vegetable soup, oyster crackers, and sugar-free popsicles (since I tend to always have a weak stomach after surgery). So I think we're prepared.
But we have no full bathroom on the first floor of the house.
Argh. I will have to bathe at the sink for the first few days because there's no way I'll be able to make it up or down the stairs to a full bath. I've already told Gus that 3-4 days is my limit. After that, we WILL find a way to get me upstairs (or downstairs) to a shower. And he has to take the door off of the half bath on the first floor because the room is too narrow for me to move around in with the door on. My humiliation is complete.
I won't be able to walk on my left foot for 6 weeks. That's 42 days. ONE THOUSAND EIGHT HOURS without a pedicure.
My recommendation? If you don't already follow me on Instagram - run. Run there now. Follow me. Because I'm pretty sure there are going to be some. Very. Amusing. Pictures.
Gosh, I hope they don't mess up my tattoo.
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