Cliff's instructions were to take three five-minute walks daily. He didn't want to do it because he's so weak and sore, but he's done two of his walks already today and admitted that the second one was easier than the first. (Since I started this entry, he's taken yet another, longer walk.) He wanted an egg for breakfast, but after one bite realized he did not want an egg after all. This has happened to everything he's tasted since surgery, down to and including water. He is forcing down the Ensure a couple of times daily, as much as he hates it. He actually appeared to be enjoying a piece of toast he had for lunch, and is now eating a piece of toast with peanut butter. Progress indeed.
We are dealing with the Jackson-Pratt drain pretty well, although the plastic cup the hospital sent home with us for measuring purposes has disappeared, possibly in the depths of Cliff's brother's trunk. It's OK, I have a measuring cup I'm using. The nurse said I could record the amounts of the fluids in either CCs or ounces, so ounces it is.
Cliff admits to some depression, but at present he is Web-surfing and looking pretty chipper. Things are looking up.
I awoke this morning to find the cows in the little clover patch I allow them in sometimes. I had not opened the gate, but they discovered a large gap in the fence overnight. I'm not much of a fence-builder, but I dragged a cattle panel down there and covered the opening in the fence, using rusty baling wire to hold it in place.