One question has been, can a person who lives alone do this kind of daily living on one leg for 6 or 8 weeks? Answer: no.
I figured before the surgery -- which I prayed and expected would go well -- that I couldn't do it without asking for help. I don't like to ask for help. We don't, we Americans, very independent.

One thing my mother experienced in 1997 when she had her left leg amputation below the knee, was the unwanted advice  and worse, action, of folks who came in and changed things. She had everything exactly where she wanted it.

I don't. Julia walked wordlessly into my bedroom on one of the first nights with a box. She unpacked a reading lamp that clipped onto the headboard.

She reorganized the plug-ins (heater still in April, fan, adapters for phone, Kindle, blood pressure cuff) on the power strip. She took the little Waterford lamp I had beside the bed, put it in the other room, and cleared off the bedstead for meds.

Fran bought a new wastebasket for the bathroom and one for the kitchen (I've been experimenting, ok?), straightened out the dishes in the dishwasher, and cooked up a few meals. I was absolutely impressed. Better.

Suzanne, Jen, Eliane, Mary Lee, Melissa, Mary G -- calling on the way to the store, asking: What can I pick up?

What has been so fabulous is the fun conversations we've had up in here. Even when I'm bipedal again, I'm going to continue this party!

Photos: Melissa and Mary G., Julia, Jen and the upside down Eli, Mary J, Suzanne and Lucy, Lee, artichoke supper.