Day of Rest

If Sunday is supposed to be a day of rest, then I certainly followed the letter of the law!  That's all good, though, because in my humble and unscientific opinion, bodies heal fastest and best when they get plenty of sleep, and I'm getting plenty of sleep.

Because of going to bed so early last night, Stan and I were both up before dawn, right at 6:00 a.m.  Although I was still not hungry, I ate crackers and drank ginger ale for breakfast, then read in the recliner, iced and elevated, for an hour and a half--but no Percocet. Once Stan disentangled me from the foam wedge and the ice packs, I walked around the house a few times then climbed the stairs to go to my bathroom to take a shower and wash my hair, sitting on the shower bench, of course.  It was a relief to feel clean and not to wonder if I smelled slightly stale! Going down the stairs was exhausting, to the point that halfway down, I sat down and just scooted down the rest of the way. 

Stan, the expert grilled cheese sandwich cook, made me a sandwich for lunch and, amazingly, I ate all of it! All that excitement, however, was tiring, so it was back to the daybed in the office for a nap from 1:30 to 4:00.  For the next two and a half hours, I alternately sat in the recliner and read and walked.  Stan, at 5:30, left the house to (a) go get a view of Mercury on the evening horizon and (b) get a few things at the grocery.  I'm so glad he got to do something interesting!

We had a nice little dinner, each eating what appealed to us while watching half of a movie.  And now it's 8:30 and time for bed which doesn't exactly make this a normal evening, but makes it semi-normal.  I'm dreading PT tomorrow morning, but it's time to get the show on the road and work on flexibility!