This is where this mornings post started -
A friend of mine gave me a word search book to do during my convalescence. It’s been an interesting form of meditation, trying to find a word and letting the brain slow down from the “What if…” race it’s constantly on. This morning sums up my life as of late. I spent about ten minutes looking for the last of the words in the File Extension word search. I have several techniques; let my eyes blur and hope the word pops out or look for the most unusual letter and scan about it for the others. I tried ‘K’ first then I tried the ‘H’ but nothing. Ten minutes of not finding it and I glanced down to confirm the letters I was looking for – and all became clear. I was looking for AHK when I was supposed to be looking for CHK. Life for me of late has been that hyper focused on what I should be doing. But I’ve been looking for the answers with the wrong information, my ‘should’ is based on an interpretation of something I got wrong… But that was getting too deep and boring and I’d use the word ‘wrong’ too many times for a gloomy Wednesday morning. Then, when I was making my mocha concoction, I remembered I had dark chocolate kisses, added one to the mix – but forgot to take off the wrapper… SO I’m pulling out of the deep and leaving you with this for today; when life gets too complicated, there is always Joseph and this face. And sometimes, that has to be enough.
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This morning, when I went to grab a glass out of the cabinet for my morning chug of 10oz, the cupboard was empty. “That’s right,” I said to myself, “The dishwasher hasn’t been emptied.” So I grabbed a smaller glass from the cupboard and drank twice as much. Then, after letting the dogs out to do their thing, I came back into the kitchen to empty the dishwasher and found that Husband had already put the silverware away. All of the other clean dishes were still tucked in their little spots in the dishwasher but the silverware was nestled happily in their slots in the drawer.
Why did he put the silverware away but nothing else? Likely because when he went to make his breakfast yesterday, he needed a butter knife and the butter knives were all in the dishwasher so he pulled out the silverware caddy, put them all away, grabbed his butter knife from the now full slot in the drawer and went about his day not doing a thing about all the other clean dishes who wished to go home. I’m sure, if I were a psychologist, I could label him and ensure me that putting the silverware away but nothing else was not a conscious thing and not a dig at me. Whatever. I think he does it on purpose. I think he thinks, “Hum… ej hasn’t had much to ponder or complain about so why don’t I only do one part of a job and leave the rest for her.” And then giggles to himself manically while buttering his bread. I'm some psychologists would have something to say about my interpretation of Husband's actions but they can bite me. Why? Because normally this would send me into a rant. I’d build up the silly dishwasher inconvenience into an irritation and fan it until it turned into a fight. But today I’m choosing to see it as this: I’m healed enough for him to quit his Nurse Shrek job and just be Husband again. And so, instead of waiting until he woke up to launch into a list of things he’s done wrong, I covered Boot in a pillowcase, strapped that sucker on and went out and weeded the front yard. I didn’t last long. And I’m pretty sure I just pulled the tops of the majority of the weeds. And Broken Ankle is now swollen to the size of my thigh – the good fat with muscles thigh - BUT I am no longer Whiney Useless Patient ej. I’m back to being mostly me. Albeit I list to one side and have a very big fat purple foot and I won't be moving the rest of the day but I’m ME again. Half full clean dishwasher and badly weeded patch of garden aside, it’s a good day! So, it counts as walking but it sure ain't pretty. The very attractive lurching is partly because it hurts to step - not every time but enough for me to anticipate it will not be enjoyable - and partly because Boot is taller than my shoe but not tall enough for heels. I know, small world problems. But my world has been pretty dang small for the last two months! Also note my focus on the ground is something akin to a toddler trying to get a piece of fluff off the floor and into its mouth - INTENSE! That's because any variation in the level of the ground I'm walking on will tip me up or back or sideways. The evil squirrels have peppered the driveway with tiny oak bombs guaranteed to do just that. I’m sure they’ve got money on whose nut brings me down. Then, after taking off Boot, Broken Ankle looks like it's gone a few rounds with Mike Tyson in the ring. Or my mom's face after the "chunk" of wood hit her eye. I have purple tree sized cankles with some serious edema. Things Husband finds icky: Feet. Wounds. Scars. Swelling. Wife asking him to touch all three is a sure way to get him to leave the room. I've stopped many a fight this way.
I'm using my powers for good. Yesterday was my two-months anniversary since dumbass Joe ran his stupid head full speed into the back of my ankle; broke the bone and I step-cussed and broke two more. Two-months since Husband became Nurse Shrek and was suddenly responsible for the care and well being of three dogs, the house and all that comes with running it and one whiney weepy drugged up broken wife.
It’s been a looooooong two-months. I figured I have spent a lot of that time focusing on what I can't do with stupid Broken Ankle so today I'll just focus on what I can do: I can walk WITHOUT crutches! Yee Ha!!! So what if with every step I’m lurching like a drunken toddler walking on a ship in a storm? And so what if every time I take Boot off Broken Ankle is swollen to the size of my good left thigh? And so what if Broken Ankle and Foot will forever be purple and twice the size and I’m going to have to get a whole new set of shoes? And so what if Husband/Nurse Shrek still won’t look at the scars or touch any part of my right leg despite my emphatic pleas to “Please look at it. It’s really cool how my finger print stays in the swollen bit for hours.” I. Am. Walking. So, there is that little bit of light in the darkness that is our crappy world today - me, wobbling about the house, hands outstretched, feeling for the closest wall or couch or table but doing it WITHOUT CRUTCHES! Which means I can let go of my self-imposed 'no drinking while on crutches' rule and I can drink again!!! Heck, I already walk like I’m drunk so guess what I'm having for breakfast... I've decided I should write a book called 'Things you shouldn't do when you're on crutches'.
The first chapter in my informative and picturesque book will cover things you can't carry even if you think you can. On this list is any type of liquid in an unsealed container. Because no matter how slow you go and no matter how little you have in there, the liquid will not stay in the container. And any amount liquid spilled on a floor with crutches is a bad combination and usually results in a spectacular slow-motion slapstick fall worthy of a vaudeville comedy act. And if you the slow-motion fall doesn't end up with you on the floor, the nightmare that is trying to wipe up said spill will commence. I'm pretty sure I resemble a baby giraffe at the watering hole for the first time each time I try to wipe up a mess, crutch legs splayed wide, stumble stepping as I go. Very pretty. I'd for sure have to include a chapter or two on what getting dressed is like when you forget your bra and attempt to remedy the situation by crutching from the bathroom to the closet. I'd title this chapter, Warning: Crutches are not meant to be used naked. EVER. No good can come from breasts swinging free as one lurches from one end of the house to the other, the parade of dogs trailing behind. Metal sticks near anyone's precious loveliness is a train wreck you can't look away from. I can only hope the neighbors have caught a video or two of this happening and I'll be able to recoup my losses and get myself a new pair of boobs. And of course, I'd need a chapter on the perils of cooking while on crutches. Taking things off a hot stove or out of a hot oven while supporting yourself with crutches can be a challenge, if not totally impossible, and requires a lot of awkward lurching and cussing. A simple sandwich requires lots of back and forth to the fridge and sink but the "meal" that broke me would be the brownies. The lesson is that making brownies at the one end of the counter furthest from the sink when one has two functioning legs can be messy. When one has one good leg, a boot and crutches, it's a failure waiting to happen. Pictures of the egg I dripped across the kitchen floor and down the right crutch would need to be included. That and video of the dog trying to lick the egg off later when I'm off balance and carrying the remnants of a cup of tea. (I refer you back to the chapter on carrying liquids. It should not be done.) I now have a pair of chocolate covered crutch handles that are sure to forever remain mucky because I was an idiot, dropped the spoon in the batter and fished it out with two hands despite knowing I had ten crutch steps from the sticky bowl to the sink. And then, because I don’t learn, I did it again. I feel no shame in telling you I ate almost all of the brownies as soon as they came out of the oven and cooled down enough to shove them into my face. I deserved every last one. Yeah, so far this book is really just a list of stupid things I've done to myself over the last eight weeks. It's very possible that no one else would need my dribbles of wisdom to get themselves through forced crutch captivity. It’s very possible that others don’t need to try something to know it won’t work. It's very possible I'm just special - bruised and chocolate battered boobs but special nonetheless. It is also very possible that another bad decision might be me licking the handles clean – don’t judge me. I have one swollen dead leg and a lack of chocolate in the house. |
AuthorMy name is ej. I'm a girl. I say that because with the short hair and the short initials, folks aren't always sure. More brilliant insights to who I am in About me Archives
April 2019
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