Yes, I had to trade in my Ultram for Lortab. Knees hurt quite a lot more than ankles or fingers do when they get operated on.
I felt like Ambulance Driver's golum..."It NEEDS the vicodin. It NEEDS the morphine. It is in PAIN!!!" And I truly was in tears when I had to get up and shuffle down the hall to the bathroom on the walker.
But that was yesterday, today I was able to sleep 3 hours in the afternoon. I expect to be able to sleep 7 hours straight through tonight.
Thanks to those who have called or send email greetings for speedy recovery. I'll try to post again by Saturday, but it's still a challenge to sit up for too long.
Showing posts with label pain. Show all posts
Showing posts with label pain. Show all posts
Wednesday, December 12, 2007
Saturday, July 21, 2007
A Traitor, A Hater, and One SMART Blonde
This is about my Dawgs and mowin'. I just came in for fresh ice water and some blessed A/C while the mower cools down. I'll finish the post later.
OK, it's 10pm now, and the yard isn't even 1/2 finished...several problems popped up...the main two being that this was my first time using this mower and I had neglected to ask the Dearly Beloved how to make it be a Self Propelled Mower [there's a lever to push forward] and the grass has gotten so high it has to be mowed in one direction and the opposite direction to get it actually cut, and that's with the wheels at the highest setting.
But the Traitor I mentioned in the title is... BOO. I'm out there working hard and little Comfort creature that she is, sneaks off, hits the back door knob and lets herself into the nice cool house. Of course that leaves the back door standing WIDE open...but I guess she just wanted ME to be cool, too.
The Hater? That would be Tipper Sharpton. He HATES the mower. Tried to grab the wheels in his teeth and bite them. Just like Ben did last year. A couple of whacks on the snout and head and now he is content to run along beside me as I mow and bark at the mower.
The SMART Blond...well, that kinda leaves Ben, now doesn't it? You see last year he had to attack the mower, but this year, having taught Tip to do the heavy work, he can lie in the shade and supervise. Yeppers, he a SMART Blond.
Did I mention I am so sore from PUSHING that mower through thick, tall grass I can barely walk across the room? Or that somehow, maybe it was the weed eater, maybe it was the raking, maybe it was the pulling on the starter rope...but my shoulders and even my neck muscles are sore. And how did my CHEST muscles get sore?
OK, it's 10pm now, and the yard isn't even 1/2 finished...several problems popped up...the main two being that this was my first time using this mower and I had neglected to ask the Dearly Beloved how to make it be a Self Propelled Mower [there's a lever to push forward] and the grass has gotten so high it has to be mowed in one direction and the opposite direction to get it actually cut, and that's with the wheels at the highest setting.
But the Traitor I mentioned in the title is... BOO. I'm out there working hard and little Comfort creature that she is, sneaks off, hits the back door knob and lets herself into the nice cool house. Of course that leaves the back door standing WIDE open...but I guess she just wanted ME to be cool, too.
The Hater? That would be Tipper Sharpton. He HATES the mower. Tried to grab the wheels in his teeth and bite them. Just like Ben did last year. A couple of whacks on the snout and head and now he is content to run along beside me as I mow and bark at the mower.
The SMART Blond...well, that kinda leaves Ben, now doesn't it? You see last year he had to attack the mower, but this year, having taught Tip to do the heavy work, he can lie in the shade and supervise. Yeppers, he a SMART Blond.
Did I mention I am so sore from PUSHING that mower through thick, tall grass I can barely walk across the room? Or that somehow, maybe it was the weed eater, maybe it was the raking, maybe it was the pulling on the starter rope...but my shoulders and even my neck muscles are sore. And how did my CHEST muscles get sore?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)

