In a previous post, I mentioned my distaste for my compression stockings.
I believe that my exact words were, "I hate them."
When I got up this morning, I almost couldn't walk from the pain. (My leg is still bruised, sore, and stiff.) But after putting on my stockings and puttering around the house for a bit, I felt much better. The stockings are an important part of my recovery.
So I do understand the value of the stockings and appreciate their usefulness.
But I still hate them.
(Postscript: I returned to work today. Drove myself there this morning. Came home for lunch, which was provided by Mom. I found it difficult to climb into the driver's side of the car, so Dad drove me back to work after my yummy lunch. Lew picked me up at the end of the day. I am so spoiled!)
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