At the doctor today for my second post-op, he again stressed the fact that I would be on crutches and in the surgical boot for four weeks.  He knows I’m already so bored.  No driving for four weeks, what was I thinking?  He called me Calamity Jane and said he remembers my history with my last surgery where I slipped during my first bootless shower on the ledge coming out of the shower.  During that slip, I broke the toe he had just fixed.  I don’t think I’m his favorite patient.  I think he thinks I’m a noncompliant patient.  (I was compliant, just clumsy.)

I’ve watched some of the most boring ridiculous lame movies already and I’ve got more than three more weeks to go.  I think I’ll re-read War and Peace (Marty’s actually brilliant suggestion).

Speaking of Marty…

This means I have to rely on Marty for the four weeks.  I do not like relying on anyone, let alone my husband.   My motive in life is to let everyone know I do not need them.   (My therapist had a hey day with that.)   Marty is reveling each time I have to ask him to do something for him, he knows it’s like fingernails on a chalkboard to me.  If I ask for help, he knows I’ve already turned over every single stone trying to figure out how else I can do something before asking for that help. I’m a little too self-reliant and stubborn.

So since he seems to be smirking at my needs (my having to cow down to him – in my eyes), I decided to do a 180° on him.  (Maturity is not my strong point.)   When I need something, ever so small, I whine to him over our intercom phones or our cell phones –  ”sorry, but I forgot to ask the last time, I need another ice pack, please?”  I decided to let my inhibitions down and just run with it, baby.

The poor guy is haggard, drawn, and exhausted (he refuses to admit it).  But somehow I think I’m still in the asset column.  Remember, I’ve been Patty Perfect for a long time.  I’m feeling a little sorry for him.

Later, I’ve got movies to watch.