I’m sorry. Oh so sorry. The last two weeks have just gotten the better of me but I won’t let it happen again. I promise.
If you are worried that my ankle got gangrene and I died or at the very least had to have my leg amputated… rest easy. Nothing nearly as dramatic as that has happened. But wouldn’t that make a ridiculous headline if I got “taken out” by a palm tree? And by a stationary one at that? As in, not one falling down on top of me. No thanks, I’d rather save up for a bigger, much more exciting headline for my obituary.
I did finally get the stitches out Tuesday. They’d postponed the removal because it didn’t look ready and on Tuesday, apparently still weren’t ready when the first three she took out gaped open after the stitch was removed. And it hurt like the dickens. What exactly does that mean? I sure don’t know but let me tell you, if “Hurt like the Dickens” means I just about scraped the ceiling plaster off with my nails and teeth as I hung there after jumping straight off the doctor’s table, well, then it’s a perfect phrase for my experience. The last five thankfully were nice and healed and when she took them out it actually felt good. Like scratching an itch (I won’t even tell you how many times I just have to right that before getting it right). So, she had to steri-strip the bugger and wrap my ankle up again. I’m so tired of the darn sticky bandages on my ankle. What I wouldn’t give to be able to shave those 5 leg hairs that are right around the battle wound and always covered. If they were any closer together, I could braid those suckers. Clipping them with scissors helps a bit though.
The nurse told me to try and take in easy and not stretch my ankle out too much. Yeah right. Like that’s going to be easy. It’s an ankle after all. So unless she’s going to slap a cast on it and hand me a pair of crutches, it’s going to be really tough not to use it.
As a parting random thought for this evening, did anyone else completely bawl during “The Baby Borrowers” last night? Oh. MY. Goodness. I think each and every one of those Seniors were precious. Simply precious. Particularly when George’s sweet wife, Reggie, called him an Old Windbag. I can’t wait until Hubby and I are at that age and I can call him that. As a term of endearment of course. And then of course they had to let us know at the end of the show that Reggie had passed away after the taping. Just when I’d gotten myself under control from seeing one gentleman take his teen care-takers to visit his wife’s grave, and heard others talk about love that lasted 50 – 60 years, and heard them encourage the teens in life, etc. I totally boo-hoo’d all over again.
I love seniors. Watching the show last night made me remember how much I love working with them and brought to the surface how much I miss my grandmother and wish she wasn’t on the other side of the country from me. I think it’s sad how much our society today just pushing them to the side and how little parents encourage interaction between their children (of any age) and seniors around them. They have so much wisdom. So many great stories. So much insight. My children don’t have the benefit of grandparents close by (although one set is here visiting at this very moment, YEAH!) but we have several senior neighbors who we LOVE to visit and bring goodies too. In fact, the kids love them a bit too much, if that’s possible. I’m always having to tell them we need to give dear Mrs. So and So a break and let her have a nice quiet evening or that just because we saw them pull into their house doesn’t mean they are ready for a visit from four munchkins. But I knew the care and love we want to instill in the kids was taking place when we drove down our street the other night. Poppett noticed one of our senior ladies standing in her driveway and told me, “Mom, Mrs. This and That looked worried. I think we should check on her”. My Momma-Heart lept with joy at her awareness. I’d noticed the very same thing and was already making a mental note to check on her as soon as we unloaded from the car. It was evening and she was standing in her nightgown. Not unusual for some gals but it was for her. So we went down and made sure everything was okay.
Okay, that was a really LONG random thought. Sorry, I’ve just missed you all.
Don’t forget, tomorrow is the Great Lipstick Challenge! I guess I’d better get busy figuring out Mister Linky!