I joked before surgery that my recovery would be filled with Pete's dinners of eggs or eggs and grits. He can cook, and cook very well. The thing is that he doesn't know what to put together, without some help from me, about what is in the house or what fits together.
My co workers are more than that, they're friends. Friends who listened to me through this. Supported me when I was down and needed to vent at work. Who cover my job function while I'm out. Who email me little tidbits to keep me informed. They are good friends. And I appreciate them like none other.