It’s been more than two weeks since Violet’s meniscus surgery. Sixteen since her ACL surgery. I’ve had her cooped up in the spare bedroom for four months, and she’s been beleaguered by the Cone of Shame for, it seems like, forever.
And she’s still limping.
It would be one thing if she were limping in a different way, if it looked like a recovery limp. But it doesn’t. Her limp looks EXACTLY the same as before I spent close to five grand, and many moons wringing my hands, and before I consumed whole days’ worth of calories in minutes. Which is what I’ve done pretty much every day for the last six weeks. (Because if your only tool is a hammer, the whole world looks like a nail. My only tool is overeating, so all my problems look like they could use some pudding.)
I’m getting a little…what’s the word?…
Vexed.
Perturbed.
Disquieted.
Edgy.
Goats and monkeys!