Go and Sing to the Moon
Random picture (Castle Gardens Petroglyph Site, Wyoming) to match the complete randomness to follow. I finally broke down and purchased a fracture boot. I reinjured the stress fractures when I was cleaning the bathroom. FYI, it’s not a terribly bright idea to stand on your tiptoes with cracks in your metatarsals. The boot is cumbersome, but I can walk without canes now, and I’ve been able to start making dinner again, which I’m very excited about. Take-out here is basically burgers or pizza or pizza or pizza. I am not someone who enjoys the same flavors over and over again, and we’ve had to have take-out since I first injured…
Why Mess Around with Strife?
Tonight I am in the “office,” and not on the couch, though I should be. Sitting at my desk more frequently has been prolonging the swelling and pain from the micro-fractures in my foot. I’m just so sick of being in the same place. Plus, I’m perpetually checking for earwigs when I sit on the couch now since I’ve found them crawling on me three times this summer, and frankly, three times is four times too many. Creepy little things. The windows are open. It’s no longer reaching 100°F during the day, and even in the midst of a heat wave, our nights are cool. It dips into the fifties every…
Down a Dusty Road
A post shared by Rebma Belanger (@suzzerpuss) on Apr 15, 2015 at 7:28pm PDT Before we go out, which is not very often these days with all my injuries, I will pee ninety-seven times. At least I’ll try to pee ninety-seven times. I’ll pee like a normal person, wash my hands, and then a niggling thought will enter the back of my mind, “How much pee did I just make while washing my hands? Could I pee again?” The next thing I know I’ve spent fifteen minutes peeing four drops, and Brian is sending me messages from the truck like, “I’m running out of gas waiting for you, what are…
Though the Ground Might Shake
A couple nights ago, not long past midnight, we were sitting on the couch watching something on the television. My leg has been getting worse, so I’ve removed two of the three back cushions to use for elevating my injured parts, and have taken to hogging the majority of the couch. Brian is relegated to less than one whole cushion. I was cleaning my glasses because my eyelashes are too long and they tend to transfer my moisturizing cream onto the lenses in blurry streaks. I can’t see anything without them, so when the couch started swaying, I thought Brian was adjusting in his tiny cubby of a seat. As…
Paint the Breeze
I’m still on the couch. Two weeks ago, while I was sleeping in bed, I pulled my right leg up by my side and felt a little pain in my thigh. Other than a quick thought of, “Oh great, another place to hurt,” and a readjusting of my position, it didn’t cause much of an issue. Later that same evening I was trying to propel myself out of this awful piece of furniture, and just as I stood straight, I involuntarily screamed and went down to the couch again. I had torn whatever muscle runs the entirety of your inner thigh. I could probably look up the proper name, but…
