Granny be's on the mend. Lost 11 pounds of fluid --fair amount of it were in her lungs, poor dear! Her wee footsies done swollen up like feet shaped pillows.
She's a mite wan, but feisty in temper--which is a real good sign! So good, they's booted her--now she's in her own bed tonight...wif' her Pepe, uh, thas' a Chihuahua. Let's hope thangs hold steady until she has to get her cardio-conversion next month (Yep--they's gonna zap her heart to try to kick it back into rhythm. ...' course now, iffin' she could see that sketch at the left in conjuction wif' her name, why that alone would shock her..heh...an' she'd switch mah laigs 'til
I'se striped like a tiger.)
Thanky all ya'll fer yore good wishes an' prayers.
Now, whew! I gotta tie on that apron an' rattle some pots and pans--know some of ya'll is doin' the same. I'll be stirrin and choppin' an' thinkin' of all ya'll.
