Grump, and lots of low-key foul language

This being broken shit... sucks.

Not only doe it hurt, but it's inconsistent in the hurts.

The massive pain on shifting from horizontal to vertical... much less common. The grinding ache in my right knee from it being used in odd ways, and the more than occasional moments of improper torque... well it's been a not so boon companion since yesterday evening.

Drugs. I went more than 6 hours between pills yesterday evening. Mark that for a win.

I didn't take one before I went to sleep. Mixed. The knee hauled me out of sleep about 0330, and it took Benedryl, Etodolac (I've been being less than good, and stopped taking it; so as not to interfere with normal healing. The first week is gone by and I think I'll stop that. I'll assume I have a good start on it, and move forward), and a dose of Percocet to get to sleep. Call that a loss.

Woke up at 0745 to the alarm. Two minutes later Les came in with Ignacio, whom she had hired to dig the holes/mix the dirt/plant the trees that I was planning to have done this past Weds.

I was more than a bit stupified. I didn't get good sleep. So we call that a loss too.

I didn't feel the need to take any percoset when I got up, so we call that a win.

Last night Les and Mike asked if I wanted to join them for supper before they went swimming. I said I should like that. She wanted , "something asian" and so we had Chinese. I had a percocet as an appetizer (this is less of whimsy than it might appear, of which more later). I'd spent the day running around (school, the VA, work) and the knee-walker is better for that, by and large, than the crutches; nothing has the sense of, "oh my God... just another 100 yards...," and then another, etc. I meant to refer to the Charge of the Light Brigade in my post about Tuesday, because I crutched about half-a-league, and it was brutal). It does, however, put strain on the knee. I'll need to hit a sporting goods place and get some sort of knee-pad, or brace, or both.

But having wheels means I am less flexible in pathways. I decided when I left work (I'd gone in to check some things out. I'm teaching a knife skills class tomorrow. I needed to see how the walker would work behind the workstation... it's fine. I also wanted to see how negotiating the store worked with it; to find out if I'll be able to work before the cast comes off. I'd say yes. I hope they agree). To not bother with waiting on the 22. It's maybe a half-mile to the station.

Not, it seems if one is in a wheelchair; of any sort. When I walk I cut across a planted area; there being no sidewalk on the most efficient route. I can't do that on wheels.

So one goes further up, crosses two streets, but isn't allowed to cross the third. It's a tolerably safe street to dash across, if one is fleet of foot, and a bit nimble. If one isn't, don't even things about it.

What I discovered is, once one is on that side of the street, it's 5-700 meters longer than the walking path. So I grabbed a sandwich, and waited for the bus.

Got home, and about an hour later left with Les and Mike for supper. I wasn't feeling all that hungry, but I'd not eaten enough, and wanted some sense of being a social animal. Also, I like their company. But I was hurting, so when we sat down I took a pill. Which, as it kicked in, did a fair bit to improve my appetite.

Which is one of those things having a chronic condition seems to make more problematic. I am used to a certain level of background pain. Worse, the disease I have means I am not really able to take most analgesics. NSAIDs are bad. Acetaminophen/paracetamol... not great on the liver, and my liver is already working overtime. So one comes to take it for granted.

I seem to have let one baseline set the next, and so was too achey to eat well, taking meds fixed that. I ate more when I got home too.

So we call that a draw.

At dinner I was commenting that I might indulge in going to a haircut shop (I can't really call someplace like SuperCuts a salon, but they ain't a barber), and getting a shampoo. Les commented that Mike was talking about getting a haircut, and why not just do it after dinner.

So instead of my reading a book while they swam, Mike got a haircut, I got a shampoo and a blowdry. I thanked Les (since it was her swimming that was put off) and she said, "I got to see to men get made prettier, what's not to like?"

Definite win.

When we got home I asked if Les could do me another favor, and spare some time to escort me to the hot tub, where I could try out the "big blue sock".

She said sure, and got dressed for the tub, i.e. I slipped a giant blue condom over my leg. It felt a lot different from putting it over my uncast leg. It was as if it was squeesing my ankle. I don't know if that's because of reduced pressure (because the device is against the cast, so there is some empty space between my leg and the cast to keep the pressure from equalising).

Once I was in the tub my worries about how the heat would feel on the injury... oh my goodness. The pain went away. I don't think I can use it as much as I would like, because I do sweat, and that isn't great for the lint bandages between me and the cast, but we call that a really big win.

As I said, this morning I didn't feel the need to take a percoset, and we have such a social worry about addiction that the least excuse to avoid one seems to be tantamount to be a sort of imperative. So I had some breakfast, and came and went overseeing the digging of holes, and the mixing of soils, and the planting of trees. I spent some time planting bulbs in the raised lip of the hole.

Call that a win.

I also made some custard: masala chai, sugar, almond extract, eggs. Two bowls were poured over rice, the others in medium sized ramekins, we shall see how it went. Did the dishes, put some dishes away, cleaned up a bit of aftermath from the digging.

And I overdid it. I also, in part because I don't like being broken I ignored that the pains were above background. So I was feeling miserable, and; for all that I'd managed to do a fairly normal amount of keeping on top of things, felt that I'd completely failed to do anything significant by way of work.

I took a pill, and the ache in my knee started to fade; and I was warmer. It wasn't immediate. It took about ten minutes, maybe fifteen, but I was feeling much better emotionally. It had been about 16 hours since the last one.

I'll be talking one when I go to sleep, and one when I wake up, since I'll be on my "feet" all morning. At this rate I have between 2-4 days worth of pain management. I have to hope the progression continues. That,or I'll have to do a walk in and hope to get another prescription. That has all the associations mentioned above.

So yeah... wheels, a mixed blessing (they are a lot easier to do longer stretches of travel one; but the reduce my options. They are less painful than crutches. I am really glad I have them; they really do make me much closer to being a completely functional person, in a way that crutches can't.

But, what I really want... is to not have this bloody cast. It makes me feel larger, because I can't do the sorts of movement I expect my leg to do. My balance is different (in some ways better. I am much more stable on one leg with the extra weight on the raised foot), but I will try to thoughtlessly make my ankle flex/rotate, and the cast tells me I goofed.

What I need is to recover some of the fatalism I had when the Reiters's was at it's worst. I am in the cast, I will be in it until I am not. Until then, this is the way it is.