Well, at least we're home

You know the old phrase, "weak as a kitten?" That, sadly, describes Cheryl right now. When I can say she can barely stand, I ain't kidding. I was able to push her up the stairs, barely, which is good, as the only other option was carrying her, something the Dave of 2006 might have been able to accomplish, but the Dave of 2008 is older, flabbier, and in much worse shape.

At present, Cheryl is zonked out on the couch, as getting to the bedroom was going to be too much effort. To no one's surprise, she's covered in cats - I see once again where I fall in the hierarchy of things - "not the mama!"

Hopefully, after a good night's rest (and once the pharmacy running through her veins is depleted), she'll at least be a little more conscious...and be able to get to the bathroom unassisted.