Mentally I've got my fire back.
Attitude......obviously! Mobility pfffttttth. (raspberry or bad gas sound--your choice
) I can get around little bits at a time with my walker. (I feel the need to throw popcorn to the park ducks and tell hippies to get a haircut. That's what
@Goofyernmost does, eh?
) I have home physical therapy for two weeks. At night muscles contract on their own so I was given morphine shots (yeah mannnnnn) but those are done. I have those wicked awful belly shots for blood clots that have turned me black more than blue. ("It burns us precious.") Starting tomorrow I may be allowed to start back on the way to regular food. (I'm telling myself every cracker is bacon. Awww bacon, I have missed you so.
) So far the docs are telling me overall to 100 percent (I can't find percent button) I'll have 6-8 week recovery. But I will survive... I will survive...everybody point your finger....
One of my meds makes me loopeydoopey
(no way!) but causes odd dreams. Last night I dreamt I was at a St. Paddy street party and everyone was trying to spank each other with neon paddles
and I kept asking people where my phone was. Yeah I don't know eitherrr. Why can't I dream of Jack Black and bacon. I think I want to watch Mary Poppins tomorrow. I'll probably dream of chimney sweeps now. Still singin that song.