John's In

I don't know what happened to the rest of the posts I wrote from my phone, but they do show up on my phone if not here. I'm so nervous about my right knee. Thursday we head back up to Philly, to Jefferson U. Hosp., to see the orthopedist. Last time, he gave me a shot, but last time, my knee had been improving. This time, it's horrible. The only medication that's helped (until this evening), is percocet. And percocet brings its own problems. I see the orthopedist Thursday and I'm hoping he'll want to give me a new knee. I'm looking forward to eventually getting back to normal --with a new knee. I'm wheeling around in a wheelchair on the main floor and it's annoying. I have to have canes on every floor. I can't really go into stores, which means I can't get the cat's food, the little girls their Easter gifts--nothing. Thank God, I have Harry and he'll get the stuff. I'm watching my house get dirtier filling with cat hair and dust bunnies. Yuck. Who can concentrate on dust when one is in pain. I found someone to do the kitty litter for when I'm down. One step. I need someone to clean for that time too.
John is here fixing the house. It's great when he's here. He painted our shutters, did our deck, and he's waiting for the lazy susans for the corner cabinets. They've always been impossible, so finally, they'll be useful. He's doing more, but the list is boring. The point is when John is in from Washington State he fixes all the big and little problems of the house. We trust John and we love him.
I painted today and that was good. I'm always grateful when I do. For that, for John, for Harry and our cats, it was a beautiful day.

My LIfe With Harry's Knee Replacement

Harry's down here in a nursing home, getting rehab, learning how to use his new knee. I'm home with the cats. Life is easy for me and then I go sit with Harry and we read the paper and talk, ignoring his roommate (who doesn't talk anyway). Tomorrow, I'll do a doctor's appointment, then buy Chinese food for Harry. Today I made doctors and insurance phone calls and sundries shopping, then Harry.
I keep trying to get Harry to come home, even though life is so easy. When Harry gets home, I'll be busy cooking and serving him, but I still will feel better when he's home. The hospital would have released him to come home if he had been able to do what he can now. He has good physical and occupational therapists who want more for him, so I can't expect him home till at least next week.
All is well and it will be better soon.