Hi. I am counting the hours until I can take off the bandages tomorrow (16) and coming up with bad jokes about my bruising. Between the purple and the puffy, my poor paw is pretty pathetic. You’ll be relieved to know my alliterations are so far unaffected.
I don’t recall being this bruised last time, at least so soon after the surgery, but at least my dominant hand is free to help me do critical things like bathe and feed myself.
I also have this super classy Sharpie marker temporary tattoo:
Despite my current wounded, whiny status, Leroy and Sherm insist on loving me just as much as usual. Hand surgery be damned, my boys are doing their best to maintain the status quo here in the dollhouse.
The fuchsia part of the photo is my housecoat. The pasty white flesh is my knee. I am surrounded by love and kibble breath. See the white gauze at the top left corner? That’s my battered paw, which I’m trying rather unsuccessfully to keep out of their way. My mammals love and support me.
Speaking of support, my (figurative) fingers are crossed that I will actually be able to fasten my bra tomorrow.
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