Since my foot surgery Friday morning, Ben has been a constant at my side. We doze together, read together (well, he still dozes) and watch Food Network and "Frankenweenie" (Ben, STILL dozing).
At night, he hunkers down in a pile of comforters next to me, issuing disgruntled, disapproving sighs as I wrestle to find some normal way to sleep with a left leg suspended in pillows. Around 4, he slips off the futon and patrols the Nine-One-Four, returning later to quietly assume his spot next to me.
This whole process of recuperation, and the wrench it's thrown in his routine, completely perplexes Ben, and he has been particularly concerned by the big wade of dressing swaddling my left foot. Yesterday, he pounced on the opportunity to investigate this cottony white interloper when I had tossed off my comforter for a little while. (P.S. Apologies for the shadowy pix -- the lighting in this particular room is a little bit of a challenge for the old cell phone.)
 |
| Good afternoon, Two-legged Missus. Mind if I come in? |
 |
| So let's have a look-see at this thing. |
 |
| Pulse and position is good. Little or no drainage. |
 |
Keep it dry and elevated. Ice often and I think you'll be okay.
Can we go to the park? |
