Murdery

There's a new tv commercial I've seen a lot lately (and now can't remember what company it's for, go figure) but it takes place with a family in a "murdery" motel room -- and the colors look a lot like this blog background, so I may be changing it soon.  Or not.  When one only publishes one post per year, maybe the background isn't that important.

So more than a year has passed since my last/first post, and this time I'm impelled? compelled? to write because of an elective (but necessary) foot surgery which requires me to be off my feet for at least 4 weeks with the operated foot elevated to reduce swelling...or maybe the doctor said 8 weeks, I'm not sure.  Surely not, because even though such activity restriction requirements probably couldn't be imposed on a better patient -- couch potato much? -- I'm starting to get a little restless.  The first two weeks after surgery I medicated myself heavily because PAIN.  An unfortunate side effect of the stronger medicine was that it caused itching.  So I added diphenhydramine to each dose, which effectively put me to sleep until the PAIN started again...don't remember much of those days.  By last Monday I was able to switch to medicine for milder pain and finally got started on my stack of library books checked out the day before surgery.  So far I've read 3 1/2 books, but starting to get a little tired of fiction and may have to renew the remainder a second time, no problem there.  When I get tired of watching reruns of "House Hunters", "Property Brothers", "Buying and Selling" and the "Love It or List It"s, Netflix is there to rescue me.  Thanks to "Frasier" I've laughed my way through many a trying day.  Wasn't a regular viewer when it aired in the '90's, so a lot of the episodes are new to me.  My dog Madeline has been my constant companion throughout, her favorite episodes are when Eddie is featured and she gets to leap from the couch and bark at him...the episode where Roz adopted a puppy was her favorite one so far.  A little hard on my ears, but she was enjoying herself so...it also gets her a little exercise since she's cooped up with me almost 24/7.  My hearing a small sacrifice so that she can be entertained.

The cats show varying degrees of concern.  Not for my welfare, but whether or not I'll be able to let them out -- and in -- with a certain level of service they've been accustomed to...although they have cut me some slack on the speed of answering requests.   To be fair, Seamus and Ciara have spent several hours each over the past weeks on my lap lulling me to sleep which helps time go faster.  Maggie not so much, but at least she's losing some of her fear of the wheelchair.  It no longer takes 10 minutes to let her in/out, which is great...for a while we were letting pesky flies in which is a pet peeve of mine.

Reflections on a broken finger

     Trying to think of topics for a blog (that was started 5+ years ago, never designed; finally gathered the courage to simply choose some fonts and backgrounds a few months ago) is harder than I thought it would be...I've always liked to write, and to be so totally blocked is strange for me.  There will be posts about life with cats and a dog, as the title suggests, but I have a feeling it will more often be a blog about nothing in particular...time will tell.
     Last week I celebrated my 4xth birthday, and as these occasions always give one things to ponder I decided on the title for today.  Is there a better time to start than on the first day of a month, on a Monday no less?   Early February I fractured my left pinkie in what can only be described as a freak accident: in a restroom stall of a major home improvement store I tried to catch a giant roll of toilet paper before it hit the floor but it was so heavy that I couldn't stop it and broke my pinkie instead!  It was the middle phalanx that was broken...I distinctly remember hearing and feeling the c-r-a-c-k of bone and telling my husband after I found him in the store 'I think I just broke my finger".  He of course being a good husband comforted me by saying, "Oh I doubt it--you probably just stoved it up."  (And in all fairness that was entirely possible because I HAD jammed different fingers last summer more than once.)  I could bend the finger and it was only slightly swollen so I continued driving around town while we completed errands.  The injury occurred around 4:30 pm, and everything seemed ok until around 9 o'clock that evening.  I noticed that it had swollen to at least twice its normal size and was also turning different shades of purple...was pretty sure it was broken then!  
     That would be bad enough, but over the years I have been thought of by some friends and acquaintances as the "Queen of Freak Accidents".  I don't think of myself as unusually clumsy, so that doesn't explain how I injure myself in unusual ways; after some rumination on past events (and I've had plenty of time since breaking the finger--you'd be amazed how limiting a small broken bone can be) it seems to be more of a case of being preoccupied and/or making bad decisions.  Multi-tasking is not for me!  Have you ever been a "victim" of some seemingly senseless circumstances which resulted in an injury, however major or minor?  Feel free to leave a comment and tell your story...it would make me feel a lot less self conscious.  Thanks!