I have been calling her Consuela, my Mexican Maid, because where before, I had to hobble to get anything and everything, Consuela-Mom is now there to get it for me. I, personally think I'm incredibly miserable to be around - rating myself at a 50% miserable rate and 50% normal personality rate, but she generously rated me at 30/70 (30% being the miserable).
I had planned that the day after her arrival, I would have a list of tourist sites that we'd see and I would take her everywhere with her wheeling me around in the wheelchair I rented. Her and I would see all of what Montreal has to offer and she would have an amazing vacation.
The reality? We try to do one or two errands (or none), and I have a meltdown every second day, either because I haven't ate (I don't have much of an appetite on crutches - or in the heat), because I can't do anything, or because I'm in pain and have been in pain for going on three weeks now and I'm just tired.
When we've been able to leave the house, she's helped me pick out some decorating touches for my new apartment, which she later has to carry up the stairs and....either puts together or puts away when I'm down for my "time out nap".
One day, she held me at gunpoint and forced me to get a pedicure and actually sit and enjoy my coffee, and that most certainly was the best day. It was a little awkward getting a pedicure with the leg thing in the way, but my lady got it done and I felt pretty and pampered. I even found an ENGLISH magazine at the pharmacy and read it while my feet were soaking in foamy water.
She's also helped me out with Maggie. Maggie needed her teeth cleaned and most of them extracted (shitzus have shitty teeth, but she was about 2 years overdue for this procedure). I was a complete wreck. I don't consider myself a supersticious person, but I was looking for any sign imaginable to cancel her very routine, very safe procedure. I just couldn't grasp the concept of a 3kg dog going under general anesthesia. I cried all night the night before and didn't sleep and didn't sleep much of last night either. They gave the dog morphine, which turned her into 25% Maggie and 75% zombie. She was sort of in there....but she was basically high as a kite...and making whimpering noises and shivering every so often. It was pretty pitiful.
This morning I woke up and she had somehow got to the side of my bed and was trying to cuddle with me, so I took that as a good sign. She ate, walked, drank, did her business, and slept a lot.
Oh - and she was able to keep her tongue in her mouth - something she wasn't able to do the night before.
My vet is a very caring and compassionate place and they were extra caring with me, calling me with updates and treating Maggie like the little princess she is, where they gave her a certificate of bravery.
Anyway....I have the big doctor's appointment on Monday....and I'm crossing my fingers and pretty pink toes that the boot will come off and that I can start being a little bit more mobile and a lotta bit less cranky.