Triumph!

Yes! I did it! I did it! YES!

Today I cleaned the catboxes! All of them!

From Sally’s two on the third floor….

To Ted’s first-floor cage-enclosed covered-top oversize and the open box by the half-bath off the living room (relic of paranoid Squash’s immutable refusal to go to the basement where the departed Smedley used to ambush him)….

To the paired lineup of eight, count ‘em, eight big boxes in the basement.

Did them all. Did them all standing, leaning over on the cane with the bad leg stretched out behind me, except for Ted’s. Ted’s needed kneeling and bending forward, a maneuver I’ve been practicing for a week, getting the various body parts slowly accustomed to the required range of motion, and by golly, it went perfectly. Even getting back up on my feet was no problem.

I DID IT! and I feel fine, not stressed by the extra efforts at all. The hip is as comfortable as it began the day, arising from a good night’s sleep in the lift chair – which is where I plan to continue sleeping for at least another week or two before I try the bed again. It really is making a huge difference.

I feel like singing! Well, I did but it scared the cats, so I stopped. And dancing is right out for now, even with my trusty cane. So I shall settle for spamming friends with my good news and sitting about smirking in triumph.

Sure doesn’t hurt to save the ten bucks a day I was paying for the service, either.