Am I miserable? yes.
Am I whiney? yes.
Our bed is too high for me to be able to maneuver in and out of, so Donald has built me a nest on the sofa in the sunroom.
With teddy bears, a walker, a cane, some coffee, meds and water.
Annabelle wants to be up here with me and I want her up here, but there's not enough room and she's too heavy to stretch out on me without breaking my hip, and you better believe I am not going through this again.
I am alive, but y'all, I am far from well.
Those of you who have done this, you have my greatest admiration.
One more whine - the meds have me so goofy, I can't read.
But I can cuss.