|Sophie just had to get in the picture|
with me, Carol on the left, and Kathie on the right
I tried to keep my foot elevated as much as I could. Slept with a pillow under it. Got up about seven to let Sophie out and went back to bed for another hour. I figure this week all I really must do is blog and keep up with email. So about mid-morning I went to the sunroom, sat on the couch with my foot on a large stuffed white tiger, intending to read all the material they sent home with me from the ER. Instead I fell asleep. After lunch and a few more emails, I slept again—wakened only when Subie brought me leftovers from their refrigerator (they’re cleaning out for a remodeling). Then it was Jay, who watered my porch plants and put my new inspection sticker on the car; Jordan, who emptied the dishwasher, put a few new dishes in, and straightened the kitchen; then a friend of Jordan’s who was sweet enough to bring me a tiny Bundt cake. As usual, my house overflowed with happiness at happy hour. And for a while I lay on the couch with three pillows under my foot—Jay insisted it has to be higher than my heart. I couldn’t really take part in conversation from that position, so I finally settled for sitting with the foot on the coffee table again. And then my dinner guests were here. Jay left, outnumbered by women five to one. And Jordan and Chandry left soon after.
Carol, Kathie and I had our usual good time—old friends used to being together, knowing the ups and downs of each others’ lives. We chatted, caught up, Kathie and I told grandchildren stories, and we just had a good time.Tomorrow I go to the doctor to hear what he says about my foot. It was much less swollen this morning but as I did what little I had to do on my feet, it began to swell more. I have iced it twice and hope for a miracle in the morning.
A quick Jacob story: Jordan was talking to him from the ER, reassuring him I was okay. She handed me the phone.Jacob: Hi, Juju. Do you have it?
Me: It what?
Jacob: You know, the sickness. My dad told me all about it this morning.
All I can figure is that Christian told him about blood clots, so I assured him I didn’t have one and would be okay. But I loved “the sickness”—sounded like TB or plague or some awful medieval disease.
Sleep well, my friends, and keep your feet elevated.