Stoner

This is a good house for rehabilitation. The passenger seat swivels around to face the front room and is a full recliner with raised leg support. Shoulder surgery survivors can’t lie down for quite a while after; it’s just too painful. Judy can sleep in the recliner at whatever angle is the most comfortable.

We sleep with the air conditioner on this time of year, so I wouldn’t be able to hear her from the next room if she needed something, so I sleep on the couch right next to her. If she needs something, all she has to do is reach over and jiggle my foot so I can wake up and do whatever I can. The pain medication is effective but leaves her unsteady enough she shouldn’t walk unescorted.

There isn’t room on the couch for me and Annie both, but Annie sleeps there anyway. She picks a spot between me and the back of the couch, then relaxes and somehow doubles her weight to about a 40 pound immovable object. We’re not going to get away from Annie just by moving to a different room.

The surgery involves an arthroscopic exploration followed by an incision on the outside of the shoulder when they determine that work needs to be done. Judy got the incision.

I promised Judy I’d be nice to her for as many days as she had stitches; but there is a bandage over the incision. We don’t know how many stitches she got. I hope it’s not more than four. Meanwhile, she’s not that hard to take care of during the day. All I have to do is put her in her recliner lawn chair on the patio, surrounded by flowers and birds, and give her drugs.