Friday, October 19, 2012

end o' the week

It's Friday finally...or already...depending on a couple of things. Surgery was a roaring success so we have that out of the way, just physical therapy for the next month.

The hospital has been a good experience except for the food. I won't say where Regis had his surgery because you know my paranoia about google searches. The hospital gets it's patient food from a nursing home. It's an abomination that old people and sick people and folks recovering from surgery (who ought to have the very best nutrition) have to eat that highly processed tasteless food. Fake butter. Fake coffee creamer. English muffins that look like they came with a play kitchen set. If I ever have to spend time in the hospital, please bring food.

Regis sent me a dream story by text sometime in the middle of the night. He was sleeping in the recliner in his room and woke to hear some noise in the hall. In his Percocet-induced slumber, he thought he was in a motel room but realized I was not there. A while later, he woke and saw me writing on the melamine board so he croaks out, "Where the f*#* have you been?" and of course, it is the sweet and pretty, twenty-something nurse who is writing on the board, not me. I hope she has a sense of humor.

Gus and I have slept well the past two nights, only waking once. He was very agitated the first day of Regis's absence but seems to have adjusted now. Yesterday, Emily took him to the dog park to play with his dog pals and Young Reg and Amber took him for a walk and over to their house to play with their cats. He had a full day.



Two pictures from my mostly pathetic garden this summer. I'm still making the transition to shade plants since any sun I used to have has been usurped by the trees. I'm not much for watering so it was simply a matter of survival of the fittest. A man I know in town who is a wonderful gardener came into River Rock yesterday. I'm embarrassed to talk gardens with him. He has rotating plants so his garden is blooming all summer. It's very artistically arranged and he takes meticulous care of it. My garden is random and wild, like me. Ha!

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