Post Op

As you can imagine,4am came early on Monday.

But despite the alarm, the lights and my shower, the cats slept on, curled up on my bed in their usual spots, oblivious to all the angst and action.

Thanks guys.

And who knew that a normal ride from my house in Arlington to Georgetown Hospital would shrink from 30 minutes to 10, leaving me standing outside the doors waiting for them to open at 5am?

And who knew that Tini, Mr. B's mother would make it there at 6:50am to keep me company till the witching hour of 7:30. And appear shortly after I regained consciousness with an iced latte in hand?

I was on my home, slightly Frankenstein in appearance, by 10:30, exhilarated as ever by the cocktail of drugs whirling through my body.

Anesthesia peps me up.

The incision looks to be in good shape 2 days later, and I know this because I ask every stray nurse or pharmacist I run into.

The hardest part is eating, talking and laughing. And these are three of my favorite things.

And not weeding of course.

A customer told me today I looked like a cat had gotten at me. A big cat he said.

Really? Looking forward to doing his mothers day flowers.

Another customer said "oh, that must have hurt".

I said " well, I was sedated". I must look like I was in a knife fight. With a big cat.

But I'm delighted it's over, the Doctor said all looks good, and the stitches come out next Tuesday.

Life goes on. I'm primping for tonight's' previously scheduled Airbnb guest and praying for more rain so I won't feel guilty about not watering.  But how nice is it to be able to walk out the door and cut a few stems of flowers! Glass overflowing. And I say this without benefit of drugs.

Thank you all for your comments, emails and text.

And the flowers in the house, both on your blogs and on Instagram.

You truly do give me courage when I start to falter.

And I am always grateful.

xo J