As I stood in the doorway just now, waving goodbye and watching her toting 40lbs of complaining pussycats on their way to the vet, I realized it is time once again to raise my voice in praise of that superhero called Lisa. Lisa , of course, does everything I cannot. Right now, this means she does almost everything for us. This is the hardest part of my recovery. Not the physical discomfort, the restricted mobility, the fatigue, the boredom, the uncertainty of it all–– but the fact that Lisa is now burdened with all things domestic on top of her responsibilities at work. So join me, won't you, in singing her praises, dedicating equestrian statues to her, or perhaps writing a Broadway musical about her superheroic feats. And, oh yeah, if you're tempted this evening to call upon her to rescue kittens from trees or defeat diabolic schemes, please resist–– she deserves a night off.