Around 8 Sunday morning I was headed to surgery. One of the saints from the previous evening reappeared to offer a hug and a prayer. After 2.5 hours of surgery, I had 2 incisions in addition to the large laceration, and 2 plates held in place by 12 screws. I don't remember much about Sunday. Sister and Short Niece arrived, and Saint left. One of my travelling companions for my now cancelled trip to the festival of homiletics appeared with flowers and a prayer blanket. They left and Saint reappeared with Daughter and my breathing machine for my sleep apnea. They kept offering me apple juice, but all I wanted was ice water. That evening an attempt to get up for the bathroom or commode failed-- I was too dizzy when I sat up.
Monday was better. I managed the bedside commode and then walked to the bathroom. I ate a banana and some grapes, then another banana with some peanut butter. I sat in a chair for 30 minutes before falling back in bed, exhausted. I conducted "final exams." A number of the people I trained in lay pastoral care giving stopped by to visit. I was impressed. They had learned things and were wonderful. I told them they passed. I heard that they had discussed the possibility of showing up all at once and doing all the things I told them not to do. One informed me that they had believed me when I said I was a klutz, I didn't have to prove it. I also heard that people were lined up to bring food when I got home. I heard that people were mad because I didn't ask for help with the 40 bags of mulch I bought on Saturday.
Short Niece demanded to talk to me on the phone. She had to hear if my voice sounded okay now. Saint came back with Daughter. A colleague stopped by with his wife. I slept a lot. I got IV antibiotics every 12 hours. Back at my home, a team invaded. The yard was mowed. All the mulch was spread. My garage was cleaned and organized (all tripping hazards disappeared). My house was cleaned.
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