|Aging editor goes for a walk with his cane.|
|Your favorite editor's boo-boo.|
So, off we went and here's the result: a smiling, happy Pampa, still a bit on the fuzzy-headed side--hence few attempts at writing (my column's due, too)--but getting Rocky stronger by the day and mentally fit by the hour.
The post surgical tape strips, which combined with some interesting glue use, held my leg together after the docs attacked it with their chain saws, spikes and hard hats fell off in the night. Now, it's just me and an ugly, storyline on a knee that already had two of them. This scar wedged its way between them, forming what Leah called a "mini-trinity."
For those of you who are interested, you'll soon get a review of hospital care, doc care, the overwhelming value of good women friends and the effort to work both against and with medical care in order to achieve the desired result. Because of the pain drugs my mind is still tending to go off in different directions as it did while I was still in the hospital trying to blog. Lea called it a "literary masterpiece that we need to put in the trash can now, hon." Bear with me. I miss you guys, especially the cranky ones.
(Photos: Leah Weiss.)