On a summer day or a regular work day, I’d be taking a break now after hitting my stride around mid-morning. Today, one week post-surgery, I was home from errands and appointments by 10:00 and ready to settle in for a long winter’s nap. And it’s all good. I’m recognizing that.

Step one: since I’m not driving yet (the discharge instructions said two weeks), so Petunia came over to do the driving. We always chat on the way, so that’s good.

Step two: health “assessment” at my school building. Basic blood draw, height, weight, blood pressure, body mass index. Optional, supposedly, but you know how these things work. If I “participate”, I get a small discount on my insurance premiums. If I don’t, well, I don’t. Many of us with chronic and/or recent health conditions resent this requirement because it offers us no new information. .

I did it anyway, nodded my head at the nurse who told me I was overweight (honey, I just dropped five pounds, some of that in removal of reproductive organs, and I already feel better) and my body mass index put me in a danger range. I’m aware of this problem, among others. I’ll deal with it head on.

Step two and a half: breakfast! The Clinic That Shall Not Be Named hosts a small branch of a local coffeehouse, so Petunia and I treated ourselves to refreshing beverages and I had a little breakfast. Yum.

As we got up to go, I was the recipient of a random act of kindness.  A young man wearing a stethoscope paid for my refill. I didn’t know him, or at least I didn’t recognize him. It was surprising and a little unusual.

Step three: post op follow up appointment with surgeon. He answered my questions, told me what to expect, set me up with a follow up visit, and then we were done. Quick, painless, and on my way.

Step three and a half: stop home and pick up package for mailing.

Step four: Go to post office, mail package.

Step five: That’s enough steps for one week post-surgery. It’s time to rest. But first, I’ll reheat my coffee (thanks, random stranger!) and settle into my favorite corner of the couch to watch a morning news show. Ah, the simple pleasures.

Okay, readers, here’s my question for you. Please suggest various random acts of kindness. Next time I have the opportunity, I’ll pay it forward in honor of the stranger who bought my coffee. Random acts of kindness can be small; they just need to be unexpected and kind.

Sometimes, it’s just wiser to keep hands off the keyboard. It’s not that any of these posts were bad, just that they were rather dull and at times, whiny. And really, folks, in the big picture, I get over it. But sometimes, just once in a while, a blog is a good venue in which to rant and complain. Because, I said because, releasing tension  makes for a better night’s sleep.

I am tired and sore and even a little cold and shivery today. Maybe going out to lunch yesterday was a little too much for my energy level. Solution: double blankets, couch, nap. Between naps, rest. And if Amigo sneaks into my spot on the couch while I’m in the shower – I’ll get even. I’ll grab my blankets and a pillow and tuck myself into his bean bag chair.

The daily injections of the anti-clotting drug seemed to be going fine – until I realized I’d given myself a bruise every time. As long as I’m getting the meds injected and they’re getting absorbed properly, I’ll put up with a tummy that resembles the surface of the moon. I mean, really, I’m not a low-rider jeans or bikini babe type, even in the best of weather. But allow me to feel a little disgruntled. Jabbing myself in the tummy with a needle isn’t a happy thought even on the best of days. Maybe I should plan the landscape as I choose a new spot each day. I could connect the dots with multi-colored Sharpies.

If I start posting updates like this, it’s time to take my laptop away and hand me another blanket. Coffee or chocolate might help. I wouldn’t turn down a big bag of fast food popcorn, either. If I post a picture – well, then take my camera and hide it. Now.

On the positive side, Buttercup the service bunny seems a little less worried about me. She attached herself to my side when I came home from the hospital by establishing a spot under a chair next to the daybed I’m using. I came back from a bathroom trip that night to find her standing right next to the door, staring at me disapprovingly (trust me, she does this well). She doesn’t give me the evil eye any more when I’m out of bed. She must know something is going well.

So now comes the big question. If these are posts I will refrain from sharing on social media, should I share the link on Facebook and Twitter when this post goes live?