gratitude-a-thon day 410: five days under my belt (or rather boot)

Sometimes when I take the Vicodin, I just stare into space. This is where I look a lot of the time. I love a Gerber daisy, don’t you?

Are you sick of me yet? I’m sick of me. Day 5, the boring bunion story.

So, pain was in play yesterday, and Vicodin was happening. No nausea. Thanks, V. Stayed in bed all day, with refreshing Fall breeze dancing through my window. Read magazines. Piles of magazines. Ate one of those delish sandwiches from Clover–Egg and Eggplant. Don’t ask me how they came up with this, because aside from these two items sharing the word “egg,” they got a whole lotta nothing in common, but they are uncommonly good together. I watched the new series “Married,” which is very funny. Peter and Ally went to Anthropologie and bought me a leather jacket to make me feel better, but it turned out to be “vegan.” I only do real leather, and I only eat real cow. Nonetheless, I appreciated the thought of them buying me a gift. I plucked my eyebrows.

I’m telling you, this is a sandwich you should have immediately.

Around dinner, I had a lot of pain. My friends brought over ribs and mashed potatoes, and while I didn’t think I was hungry, my friend opened up my boot and gave my poor strangled foot some air, and the pain got better, and those ribs made the whole world look like a very nice place.

Deb took off my boot and it made my foot feel so much better. Ahhhhh.

I don’t have any pain here this morning. I really want to take a shower because I am gross and disgusting, but I can’t really imagine having the balance to make it work. I go to the doctor’s in the morning, so maybe he will give me some more freedom and I will be able to bathe. A sponge bath is definitely in store for me today. As for my hair, well, forget my hair.

That’s where we stand, or don’t stand, on day 5. I’m ok. And I’ve made it this far, so PARADE.

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