Out my front door.
This recovery thing is taking longer than I expected. Not easy breezy in any sense. I mean, of course. As Hydra reminds me, I have four holes in my tummy.
Tomorrow I get the staples (aaaah! staples! I saw them! Big sissy Sundry!) and drain (I am not going into this on the blog) out.
Today, it's all I can do to find things that I am willing to eat (no appetite) and to sleep.
And yet.
I think of you.
I stumble to the door and let auto focus take care of the photo of the day.
A martyr to my artyr, huh?
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