Cannula

Many, many people suggested that oxygen might help alleviate the still-breathtaking pain of my now eight-day headache, so I just purloined my dad’s COPD oxygen machinery and a fresh (I hope) cannula (fun fact: this thing in my nose has a name!) and I’m sitting here playing on my blog while the machinery hums and purrs and hiccups in rhythm with my breathing in the earnest hope that I’ll soon be up and pain-free and skipping and cartwheeling and bending over to put on my socks with wild abandon.

Dad had a COPD episode this morning so I left work to take him to the hospital for X-rays and then back home to wait for the doctor to call with our next steps

He’s OK now, but he’s been coughing like he’s about to shoot a lung across the room.

Since I was home, I helped clean up and put stuff back in the cupboards under our AWESOME! NEW! COUNTERTOPS! Which look yellow here, but they’re actually a gray-side-of-white with gray-blue marbling—like an old-timey apothecary counter where our ancestors went to get refreshing lemon phosphates and creamy vanilla Cokes.

But I wasn’t the only one who’s been working. Miss Bridget has kept us attentive company the entire day: