Elliot's Achilles Update

At least there are 2 people in our family who think this Achilles injury is totally cool. Elliot is not one of them.

Friday (day after surgery) Elliot was still hopped up on Percocet and not feeling 100% . . . probably not even 20%. The pain medications make him dizzy and nauseous. I was getting a little concerned as well because he still couldn't feel his toes.

He was really hoping to be able to conduct at the funeral that morning, but we decided (I mostly demanded) that he just stay home and I'd take really good notes to share with him. This was good advice by me, as always, because right in the middle of the funeral I got a text from him that said, "Foot is awake. Wow. PAIN! It feels like it is in a vice . . ."

So I tried to keep him medicated for the pain and sleeping in the recliner as much as possible. I like taking care of him. He won't stop apologizing for the "inconvenience" though. No inconvenience at all.

I read him my notes from the funeral. Sister Jeannette Gurney lost her leg several years ago and though she was quite the go-getter and eagerly anticipated her recovery and ability to return to working in the temple, her daughter mentioned how important it was to her mother that she follow ALL the rules of recovery and therapy. This bit of advice from the recently departed as well as my friend's comment on one of my last posts about her bishopric member who decided he could decide when he was recovered and had to start all over because of re-injury, as well as our renewed efforts in teaching Stella to follow the rules, I believe, has impressed upon him the importance of doing EVERYTHING he can to make sure his recovery is complete and ALL rules are followed. (How's that for a run-on sentence?) I'm not a nagging wifey, but I will make sure he's not an idiot during recovery.

We made plans on Sunday evening before the injury even happened, to have friends over on Friday night, but had to postpone because Elliot was still a little pale and feeling generally gross. This was a good change of plans because I'm sure they all wouldn't have enjoyed the amazing amount of barf that Elliot purged after a short walk on Friday evening. It was impressive, really.

It was such a nice evening that we sat outside in lawn chairs for a about an hour after the walk, he barfed, then went inside to sleep the rest of the night. Thankfully Grandma Dibble was able to have Stella over for a sleepover (and shopping . . . Grandma sleepovers are great).

Sometimes barfing just makes you feel better. Still a little crazy, but better. I think Elliot thinks his little knee-roller apparatus is too much fun and I have to remind him to slow down . . . he is still mediated after all.