More assistive capers

 The view from the sofa

Complete with leg strap which is the only way I can raise that leg onto the sofa today.

Nice night, sleeping well. Then it got to four thirty am, dark,  and sleeping was done. I'm sleeping on the sofa for a couple of nights until I get the go ahead to do the full flight of stairs to the second floor and my bedroom.

Handsome Son and I had an awful struggle to remove the compression socks last night as instructed, but this morning he got them back on me like an expert, easy.  Great relief to us both.

And I'm getting the hang of things -- exercises, breathing with a measuring thingie, and five minutes walking once an hour.  That part is fine.

The bit that now feels funny but didn't then, was when I first woke, decided to organize my many medications that came home with me, and were in a heap on the dining table.

They came with a chart of when and how and why and how long to take them. My not quite returned post-op brain had a struggle but eventually figured out the morning doses.

Some of them go on for many days, some are my established meds I know, some are taken as needed. It takes a three credit course to sort it, so I planned to calculate the last days to take these various pills, then enter them on my phone calendar. 

At that point I dropped the phone under the table. And I had to cross the room for the grabber. Tried to pick up the phone for maybe twenty minutes, like catching a live fish in your hand.

So I thought maybe the dressing stick hooky end might help, Walker and I went off to the hallway to get the dressing stick. 

Got hold of it and instantly knocked down the grabber to the floor. I can't safely bend, so with both grabber and dressing stick on the floor, I tried to loop the wriststrap of Carol Cane, lucky she was there,  around a hook of the dressing stick. Many times, no luck.

Finally retrieved the grabber with Carol's help, and the dressing stick using the grabber. Then I returned to the table where it all started, realizing I still didn't have the phone. This meant I couldn't text peacefully sleeping Handsome Son upstairs.  He'd never hear me call.

So another titanic struggle took place and finally  I got Carol Cane's wriststrap looped around the phone with the helpful edge of the rug lifting the phone enough for the grabber to seize her firmly and finally land the slippery little customer.

At this point it was getting on for six am, getting light, and I was exhausted. And the phone battery was nearly down. Another Walker Two-step to plug it in. 

Back to the sofa to read about bees. After a foray to the kitchen to get a glass of water and a snack to go with the morning pills.

Handling assistive equipment isn't for the fainthearted. All ended well though this was an unexpected expenditure of energy. 

And I was able to message Handsome Son to bring some things I needed downstairs. It's odd to message in the house, but it worked. I keep realizing I need things from upstairs and can't yet go get them.

Dear Emil texted this morning to ask how the first overnight home had gone, and I said fine, all's well. Meaning now all's well! I may recount the comedy of errors when I see him Tuesday.  Or I may be glad to forget it!

Lasagna for lunch, to recoup my strength.

Happy day everyone, hang onto your phone and your wits.

Sometimes you're the little fuzzy one, sometimes you're the bear. I may have found a way to be both.