9/9/14. The post where I have an eventful recuperation day.

9/9/14: I slept in this morning and then was really nauseous after I woke up and had breakfast.  This time, I managed to keep all my food where it was supposed to be, although it required me to sit motionless for nearly an hour.  Then I checked some work emails and took a nap, even though I'd only been up for a few hours.  

My foot still felt pretty good, but I have had to turn up the amplitude twice, once last night and once this afternoon.  It may be that the swelling is going down, so the positioning of the wires is changing.  I am really watching the clock between doses of my pain medication.  Besides the three incisions, I have a massive bruise on my hip where the generator was implanted. I can't lie on that side, or touch it, or sit against anything that touches it.  Since that is where my arm would normally rest while standing or sitting, I've had to invent some fairly interesting positions. (I should name them and invent a new form of yoga.  "I call this one 'Awkward-looking Girl'".)  Here is what the bruise looks like today: 

If you use your imagination, you can make out the generator underneath the bruise.  As the swelling goes down, I am starting to be able to feel the outline of it.

While today was dedicated to recuperating, it included a little excitement.  Our friends who live a few doors down were having some (very loud and messy) construction work done in their house, so I had custody of their chihuahua today.  He was a good nurse, napping with me and keeping me calm.  Then this afternoon, I decided it would be nice to take a little walk, so I put him on the leash and took him outside. Unfortunately, he thought that meant he was going home, and he dragged me all the way to my friend's house and plopped down on the front porch, refusing to move.  Normally an eight pound dog would be no match for me, but in my current state I could neither drag him nor scoop him up to take him back to my house.  Embarrassed, I had to ring the front door bell and ask my friend, who was home with the contractors, to pick up his dog and bring him back to my house.  Dog sitting fail.

But it gets even better.  We have a musician staying with us for concerts the next two weekends, and her conductor dropped her off at our door late this afternoon.  As they were unloading her luggage, the dog saw his chance to escape and out the door he went.  Before I could stop them, the two of them ran after him, trying to catch him.  Since I knew exactly where he was going, I calmly went inside and got his leash.  Then I watched them chase him up and down the street for several minutes.  When they got close enough to hear me, I told them they could stand down and I would take it from there.  Sure enough, he went right back to my friend's front porch again.  There was no way I was going to ring the doorbell a second time, so I sat on the porch for awhile with the dog until finally he let me put his leash on him and then he followed me back to my house.  We sat down, both exhausted and thirsty from the afternoon's antics, and within a few moments my patient, long-suffering husband got home from work and asked why the dog and I were both panting.  Long story...

The episode wore both of us out and the dog and I rested for most of the evening until my friend came to get him, while my patient, long-suffering husband made a delicious dinner.  Planning for another long night's sleep and then hanging out with the dog again tomorrow.  Unless the authorities revoke my dog sitting privileges before then.