His meniscus was torn, on the outside of his knee, but the surgeon was able to repair it. Now I am serving him tea and soup (the Mister, not the doctor) and other comforting foods after his day-surgery and tedious "wait time" in the hospital. All very tiring.
All the nurses said he was very patient. Hmm. Talking about my Mister?
He walked into the house from the car and has taken his pain pills and is keeping the knee elevated and iced. I hope he has a peaceful night and doesn't wake up in pain at ANY point. Because then that means that I will have to wake up too, and then it will become readily evident what a crappy nurse - and all around human being - I am.
I am also on edge and tired myself because when someone you dearly loves is having foreign objects inserted into his body and is being given anesthesia and has a huge bandage on his leg, you sort of get to thinking of how you'd really miss that person if they weren't around - you know what I mean?
So go find that guy or gal - or that kitty cat or puppy dog - and give them a big ol' smooch. That's what femminismo sez!
p.s. Doesn't the heart give this knee the perfect touch? What a good sport Mister is.