Day 3: In Which It Becomes Possible to Do Too Much

This is a good thing, really. I felt so good that I kept trying to do a little more.  But, in fact, my knee is still only three days out from getting chopped open and reconstructed, and underneath this ace bandage probably not very much has changed. It's just that it hurts less.

I had a good night, sleeping well at the beginning and the end and taking a couple hour break in the middle to listen to an audiobook.  Not really energetic enough to read with my eyes, and watching TV seems like too much effort. Listening to a book is about perfect.

Jon took Alissa and Jose to the airport at 4:15 in the morning, and that was when it seemed like a good time to go back to sleep. By the time I woke up, the Falls Church crew had unloaded and set up their beautiful display and sent me some photos.

I had a banana milkshake for breakfast. Yum.  And then, finally, after three days and three nights of no action at all, the Miralax showed its efficacy.  Everyone had warned me about oxycodone and constipation.  No worries. Everything is fine. 

At 12:45 I decided to go for it and I put on my coat and some long pants and got myself outside to my golf cart. There was no one else to meet Rachel coming back from market, so I went to greet her.  I did not help her unload but I got the report that they had a really good day and sold almost everything.

The hardest part of that expedition was getting down the stairs from the porch. The second hardest part was getting back up. But nothing bad happened except that I tired myself out.

Spent the afternoon lounging so that I could go back out one more time to join everyone for family dinner at Anna and Gordon's.  It is hard to get comfortable on regular chairs and couches. This magic recliner is where I am most at home. My knee hurts all the time, but it was so much better than two days ago, and even better than yesterday. So much for Days 2 and 3.  Check.

Onward. Maybe with a tiny bit more patience.  I should limit myself to one trip up and down the porch stairs per day until I am off the oxycodone. That seems like a good rule.

*****

While I was reclining and recuperating, others were working hard:






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