I have this theory that people are made of pain.
Pain is what holds them altogether, and when the pain stops they do too. I think that theory explains all the angst I see around me. It also explains why tragedy is so much easier to write than humor, and why it is so easy to get a reader to empathize with pain compared to the effort it takes to get them to laugh. Jay does a great job of getting people to laugh, sometimes at his own pain.
It also explains why, when I get into a nice hot bath, I melt.
With the ending of the pain, there's nothing left to hold me up, and so I go to sleep
I slept well last night. Didn't really do any culinary explorations, simply ate last week's leftovers, there are a lot of them. After exercising I really didn't want to do much more than that and I was starving for blood sugars. So I just ate whatever was still in styrofoam and then trudged upstairs to write for a while and then bathe in a bath so hot it felt like my entire body melted. Deep, black sleep with no dreams. And I was in bed at midnight, a bit later than usual.
Woke earlier than usual, that's my usual modus operandi when John is away. Sleep late, wake early, get lots done at work, have no life. It works well for me. It's something of a blessing of aloneness and quiet that isn't lonely or empty. In fact, got invited to a gathering this evening and turned it down because I just couldn't get myself to feel social at all, the people are cool. I also have a deacon's meeting tonight that I really don't want to do.
PT was solid. Sore making and we did a lot about some of my forms, corrections by Rick are pretty solid and I'm actually feeling some of how they're supposed to work. Some of them. I get sloppy. An hour and a half a day plus another twenty minutes of icing, and that's my whole evening. I sometime resent that, but I can also see how much better I'm getting, how much strength I'm getting back, how much better I can flex the leg and how much better it straightens. The straightening translates directly into how sore the joint itself gets when I'm walking.
Solid translation that.
It was good to be under Rick's watchful eye again. It makes a real difference in how I do what I'm doing and knowing what it is that I'm trying to accomplish with certain exercises makes a different kind of difference. He also did some tugging on the new ACL and the puppy is just *solid*. A bit more than Rick likes, as it's not giving at all, but they've said that it'll likely loosen up a bit around week six, so I'm not worried too much, yet. I also know that my muscles are fighting Rick's pulling as I just don't want to stress the graft any more than I have to. My. It's good to have muscles again.
I can now sit like normal, I can drive the Stoat with no problems with the brake pedal, and I'm having fun just walking here and there occasionally, and without my brace, things are starting to flow into a normal walk. I'm still not exactly sure that I want to get back into soccer, yet, but there will still be some time before I even can do that, so I'm not too worried.
Had a few fire fights, a few things that I couldn't answer, and a few things that I think I can get, but will take some time. No play today, which is good as my hands have been hurting. Story ideas, though and a set of ideas about Janus' expanded writeup.
Oh, yeah, one thing that I forgot to mention about the weekend was that on Saturday I drove the Happy Buddha pretty well. Eventhough the pup has no synchromesh either on the second or third gears. So that meant a lot of double-clutching, but I did okay. What was funny was that I was more grumpy about the fact that the turn signal had no auto-return than with the double clutching. With the double-clutch I got instant feedback if I forgot, but the turn signals would just keep blinking unless I remembered to put them back. It was kinda nervewracking all in all, but then I remembered that the first time I drove the Stoat I was scared out of my head by it, too.
So the pain gets expressed and things get better. Maybe that is what works. I just wish my damned knee didn't just keep on hurting.© 1998 by Liralen Li.
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