It's a start...

 

Back in my own bed.  No noise.  I slept solid until 2:00, then needed to go in the living room and sit up to have a different position.  Back to bed by 3:00, and I slept again until around 7:00.

Rufus was a good boy - as he came up alongside me in bed, he was gentle.  I think he was relieved to have his Pops back.  He spent most of the night down at my feet.

It isn't just a matter of settling back in your own bed - you have to deal with how you can lay (having a bag and a hose connected), what position it hurts less to breathe, how long you can lay in one position.  Still, it was welcome rest.

Next order of business will be getting into the shower and getting the skank washed off.  There is one wound where the blood drain was located that can have the big ol' gauze pad come off and get a band aid.

Learning what clothing works with this situation... you don't want something that catches on that hose (trust me on that).

After getting Rufus fed this morning (Joan put the food down for him), I did my morning routine, a bit slower.  Joan has been very attentive, making sure I don't have to bend down or twist much.  As I heal, I will get back to that.  For now, I am happy with being able to move around without a dozen different wires connected to me.

It felt good to sit for a bit, with my big furry boy on my lap...

 I'm giving myself this one day to just chill.  Good timing on the weather - a norther blew in during the night.  I was able to get home in shorts and a t-shirt yesterday.  It was 52º and windy this morning... wouldn't be a get time to start a new walking routine.  I'll be content to walk around the house today and try to stand mostly upright.

I am learning what I can do on my own and what I need help with.  Joan is amazingly supportive... "for better or worse, in sickness and in health"... you find out what that truly means as the years accumulate.

Yeah, it's a start.

------

My heart is heavy - I spoke with my brother-in-law John, and he lost his brother this week to Covid.  His brother had just turned 100.  You can say you know it is coming, but it still hurts.  John could not be more of a brother to me, if we were blood related.

I'm going to change gears here and talk about some uplifting news.  A shower and a light meal made a difference this afternoon.  Joan has, as always, been a champ through this... Being out of the hospital environment has been a blessing. I am weak and hurt like hell. There are a lot of indignities that have to be endured, and I am grateful to still be here. I have a great wife that won't let me give up - she is definitely better than I deserve, but I sure don't want to tell her that this far into the game... yesterday was our 48th anniversary. We both know we are stronger because we are together. We exchanged cards, small gifts, and hugs today. I have joked about living long enough to need replacement body parts, but this experience is so different from the hip replacement.

I got a shower today (stood in there by myself), shaved, and dressed. Looking in the mirror afterwards, I examined the new "poke holes" and the "exit" (above my navel) and the blood drain wound. This is one of those surgeries where you don't see much in the gory exterior details... I could have done without seeing the photos from the surgeon's phone... I've seen road kill that looked healthier.

It is a shock to your senses to roll over in bed and face mirrored closet doors that reveal gonads the size of grapefruit and a wonderful wife who says, "I think the swelling is better - the boys seemed to have some wrinkles showing again." How's that for a sense of humor?  She is great.  I do want to grab her by the throat when she comes at me with that breathing exerciser, though.  But, I know she always has my best interests at heart.

Today is better than yesterday.  I plan to keep that progress going.