186. 2 days post op.

Wasn’t fooled by my wellness this morning.  Got up for a while.  Had breakfast and started on dinner.  Went back to bed for a rest.  R has the painters in.  I’m a bit worried that I’ll trip up on their dust sheets that are on the stairs.  Last thing I need is to fall on my squishy bits.

M came round with chocolates, a small looking pair of leggings/jodhpurs and a magazine.  Had a nice chat.  She’s very disenchanted with marriage (periodically) and shared her woes while I peeled some potatoes.  After she left, I tried to go back up for another lie down.  R was upstairs moaning on about the painters wanting to paint the bedroom door.  It was the second time that he’d been grumpy with me, not to mention the day before.  I lay on the bed and ruminated on it.  Grumpy old man.  No privacy.  No room to rest and recuperate.  When my own clean, quiet, peaceful little flat was sitting empty.  I left it long enough for him to have calmed down a bit and asked for a lift home.