Saturday, May 26, 2007

One More Week

Til I go back to the doctor for another X-ray to look at the bone and see how it's doing. Best case, I'll get some sort of cane (hopefully with a skull or a claw - or a skull with a claw wrapped around it would be best. Do they have those in hospitals?) and permission to weight bear, and outpatient physical therapy. Worst case, I'll have to stay on the crutches for an undetermined period of time.

I want to be hopeful, but I'm definitely superstitious about being too cocky. I know that everything's healing incredibly well on the outside, but I have no way of knowing what the bone has been up to all these weeks. Was that bang on the crooked sidewalk in my wheelchair too rough? (Who knows! I'm medicated!) When I stepped down, yet again, by mistake, on that foot (outside of yoga, I tend towards clumsiness) did I set myself back a week? I can hear my teacher's voice telling me to surrender to what is. Ain't that the truth.

Either way, I'm moving back into my apartment soon afterwards, even if I have to hop up and down the 2 flights of stairs on crutches; I've been practicing, and while it's a little time consuming, it's not that hard.

Which also signals the imminent disappearance of my mom back to her own life, although what could be more fulfilling for her than fulfilling my every waking need, you ask yourself? I know, because I've asked myself the same question. Perhaps something could be arranged.

Of course I kid. But she does such an amazing job of moming, it's going to be hard to see her go.

In other news, I'm stepping down the meds yet again. (So many people have told me that bone pain is the worst pain there is. Somehow I've managed not to be in pain, apart from the mild twinge here and there. Is it the meds? Or am I just, as they say in England, well 'ard?) Everything's fine pain-wise, although I do feel a little melancholy. Is it possible, in the most obtuse, completely human way, that I'm loathe to leave my bucolic existence? Have I grown so accustomed to my tea and toast on a tray in the morning that I'm resistant to take my hip shelf out into the big bad world and earn an honest wage again?

One thing I do know, if I'm going to start teaching again any time soon, I need me some baggy pants.

P.S. I just noticed how many questions there are in this post. Feel free to reply with any answers you come up with.

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