It's 3:30 am Thursday. I am wide awake, having had a couple of solid sleep periods since 11 pm.
At one point last night, I was feeling quite miserable, and Karen helped me understand that this means that narcotics are necessary. An hour later, my color and attitude were restored, and I actually was hungry enough to eat some scrambled eggs and toast - the first substantial food since Wednesday night.
A half-hour ago, I successfully got myself into the bathroom to pee, and back to bed. I am treating this as a major accomplishment, although it was the third time I've done it. Somehow it seems more amazing, knowing that everyone else in the house is sleeping.
My foot is constantly painful - I am aware of the ache at every moment. However, my bed is surrounded by many books, remotes, snacks, electronic devices, and my trusty water bottle and drugs. I can visualize the next 24 hours pretty easily.
Time for a sip of water and, perhaps, lights out again.
Last night, before turning in herself, Karen said she wasn't sure I'd really go thru with the surgery, when I was trying to make the final decision, last week. Nobody could be more surprised than me.
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