Things are going exceedingly well, and I am feeling better and stronger every day. I got up twice yesterday and did my laps around the ward floor and I’m sucking the shit out of my Spirometer. My pain is far less than I anticipated it would be, although I am still using my morphine pump, albeit less and less throughout the day.

Jeffrey brought me two of my recovery tools yesterday: my abdomen pillow, Packy, that I use to brace my incision sight if I have to cough, sneeze, or laugh; and Ella, my get well buddy made lovingly for me by my blogger bud and friend Java over at My Life or Something Like It. I got both of these during a major surgery many years ago, and they have been my go-to comfort (non-living) animals ever since. (This is in addition to my two living comfort animals, Harvey and Rita Mae, of course.)

Today is my first maintenance lesson with the nurse. Jeffrey has the day off and will be here at noon (visiting hours are noon-8:00 daily) to join me for the training. (Just another ring on his Halo, folks.) I am also hoping I get this *&^%#$@#$!!!(&*^!!! NG tube out of my face and can start on clear liquids again today. I’m starting to get quite peckish, and the sooner my diet progresses, and my body starts functioning on food and drink, the sooner I can go home. I know I have to be patient (no pun intended) and go slow, but I can’t make any progress if I don’t make some progress, capiche?

Please take a few minutes and reflect on the meaning of the day, folks. And stay safe. It’s still pandemicy out there.