Turds

Saw my physical therapist yesterday to dry needle my foot. She also did a full evaluation, after reading the foot PA's notes from January. She went way over how much this would be unpleasant, making sure several times, full disclosure... blah, blah, blah. All with me certain and both of us laughing. PTs are funny people, I think they have to be. Mine is delightful.

She oversold the pain, it was nowhere near as bad as a full calf/foot spasm that would wake me at night. My leg and foot did tap without my volition, which amused Dylan. Gave me further exercises, which I have also now done. And I woke this morning sore, but less stiff, and without that hard deep spasm that I never could break. Walking around the house is easier, and I hope to walk miles soon.


I knew it would help. I knew she would help. And I'm glad I got my foot to this point first.

The other good news is that Moby's bowels are working. Yesterday, hard turds were followed by a substantial soft one. I'd started giving him an abdominal massage the evening before, which he totally relaxed into. I only stopped when he vocalized an "ok, enough" sound. (He's a very communicative cat.) So, when the little log was spotted, Dylan and I were joyous. The kind of rejoicing that floor nurses with gut surgery patients have for them at the first post-op farts. It means the gut is waking up, and they cheer. Moby get's a daily belly squish from now on.

Moby's been sitting up on the back of the couch, we heard a thumpathump, he'd gone off the wrong side. So last night, we laid down padding for him.



This morning.

"Hey, this is good."


I got called off for low census. Given that I'm not feeling so hot, this is a gift. Cold sores on my lip and up my nose. I will rest, putz around the garden a little, and do my PT.