This is the story of the surgery, the chicken and the rescue pup

July 14, 2020
Yesterday was many things… the day I had surgery to remove the cataract in my right eye, the day I sent my husband to do two errands, the day my one year old, just neutered, cone wearing,  rescue pup, acted just like a one year old, newly neutered rescue pup. Yesterday, I knew beyond the shadow of a doubt that I officially ran out of goodwill. My self appointed superpower, has been the ability to “smile in adversity!”,  to carry on when the chips were down, to dadgum it, turn that frown upside down! However, yesterday was a test. Maybe it’s The Covid, maybe we have entered the “dog days” of summer, maybe taking the generic dose of antidepressant really does make a difference. (It’s just a very small dose… enough to “keep the insulation on the wiring”…but I have been wary of this generic 90 day supply that you can acquire for $15 at Walgreens no less!) 
First, I wake up at noon yesterday to a heaviness on my chest and a smooshing, liquid, licking  sound. My bedroom is dark. I am on my back. I realize I have on leggings and a blouse, not my pjs. Kobe is standing on me, licking the plastic eye patch which was taped to my right eye this morning after having cataract surgery. I have no memory of the surgery, riding home in the car, or even getting back into bed. My lovely anesthesia induced dreams have been interrupted by a 90 pound curious Newfoundland. He is trying to be very quiet as he goes from standing on me to lying down on me, curious about this new patch on my eye. But, what the hell. I am a little dizzy and slobbering for understanding as I assess this scene, wondering where my dear driver, husband and caretaker for the day is. I see that a Diet Coke, in a coozy, is by my bedside, along with a glass of ice water. I haven’t read my discharge instructions yet but I am pretty sure having a Newfoundland gently lick your eyepatch every four hours is not on them.  
I sit up push Kobe away and go to look for my caretaker. Hmmm, he has gone to work out. Which is wonderful! We all need to keep in shape during the Covid, but I am a little shaky and can’t find my sunglasses and would they even fit over this plastic sticky dog slobbered patch? I would put Kobe out back but we have a pool that he loves, and remember he has just been neutered so he is quarantined here with me, in the house, all day. I see that my five year old, 150 pound Newfoundland, Shadow, quietly watching from his place on the floor willing Kobe to just… please…go…away. 
I head to the kitchen, make an open faced cheese sandwich and settle into my usual tv watching chair in the den. Having a bite to eat and watching a little HGTV seems like a luxurious way to spend my one eyed afternoon. As I channel surf I hear a sound. A sound like someone playing kick the can. Hmmm, what is that? Suddenly, Kobe bursts into the den, proudly chewing a Diet Coke can. Uh oh. This is the can that was on my bedside table. I shakily return to the bedroom and even half-sighted, I can see that Kobe has jumped on the bed, grabbed the Coke from the bedside, spilled said Coke EVERYWHERE.  Framed photos are sitting in Coke, pillows, duvets, sheets and rugs are all doused with the brown liquid. Where is my husband? Oh yeah, working out. I unmake the bed, including pulling off the sheets, mattress pad and the duvets off two king size comforters. I remember I am not supposed to lift anything over 20 pounds or bend over for a few days. Kobe tries to help as he bites and wrangles the sheets and comforters I try to carry to the laundry room. I give Kobe his RX in hopes it will settle him down and wonder if I can take one too. 
Berry finally returns. I ask him to please go to the grocery for dinner. I also ask him to please take the sticky duvet covers to the cleaners and pick up three items I have waiting there. Berry heads out, I put the sheets in the washer and feeling a little dizzy I head back to my comfy tv chair. Wait. What am I sitting on? It feels sharp and plastic. Oh. It is my clear plastic eye patch, oozing with slobber and now misshapen. Kobe has struck again. He must have climbed into my chair as I loaded the laundry and found the patch I had left on the table as I put in my eye drops. Damn. 
Berry returns from the grocery and cleaners. Me, “Hi honey! Did you get the cleaning?”Berry, “No, I took the cleaning.” Me, “But, did you pick up the clean cleaning?”Berry, “No.” Hmmmm Me, “What did you get for dinner?” Berry, “Salmon and a pre-cooked chicken.” Berry, “What’s this sticky plastic thing with the holes in it?”Me, “My eye patch. Kobe ate it.” Me, “What else did you get for dinner?” Berry, “Some dried apricots. I know we have some fruit here.”Me, “We have four bananas.” Berry, “That’s plenty.” Me, “So we are going to have pre-cooked chicken and bananas for dinner?” Berry, “Alright with me.”Me, “#%@^&@*(%*&@^%$”  
I head back to my tv chair with a bowl of cereal and my brain full of disappointments for the small disasters of today. Maybe, that generic RX isn’t quite enough. Yeah, I think I may need a little more insulation on the wiring these days.