As I was waking sweet Hubs was still sleeping, such a strange switch. I'm sure he was over the top exhausted. He spent two full days doing some serious manual labor. He's moving super slow. I know how he is, and even though I ask him to remember that he's just turned 69, his mind is telling him he's 30 at the oldest. He is tough, he will get the job done regardless, and he will spend days asking me why I didn't remind him to let those young guys earn their stripes.
Today has been so different than yesterday. Today was the final injection in my knees. The beginning of two weeks before I know if the injections worked. I'm not feeling optimistic, I'm trying to be positive. I committed to all three, the first two haven't made any difference, I am tired of basing my life and plans on my stupid knees. I am not enjoying the anxiety connected to all of this.
Today is make or break it for six long months if it doesn't work. Six months is a ridiculous amount of time to be in pain, to be afraid of falling when your knees buckle, to have to decide what in life is most important. It's simply a long time. I am trying to be a serious bucket half full person and believe that I am going to be that rare person that gets 18 months of relief. The first cortisone shots did that. I guess we will see.
I'm not feeling so great this afternoon. These two injections stung like he was putting in fire. And almost instantly I felt ill to my stomach. My legs didn't feel like my own as I walked back down to the truck. And my head is absolutely throbbing. I hope it is simply fear. This one was tough for me. It didn't calm me much when the doc asked me how I was doing and I tried to put a positive spin on it. I hated saying they are not any better than when we started, so I followed it with "I'm hoping this next one works" - and his response was "me too".
Wait a minute... you're the doctor... shouldn't you be a lot more positive than the lay person that you are getting ready to sink long needles into? Maybe that is what caught me off guard and distracted me from the deep cleansing breaths I usually take. Or maybe it was just the uncertainty echo'd mine too clearly.
Twenty-six hours ago I'd just gotten home from hanging out with my girl. No Hubs, no kids, just us! Neither of us could remember the last time that happened. We had lunch together, talked about everything and nothing all at once. We wandered one of our favorite stores for hours and ended up spending too much money on stuff that made us smile. It was so incredible.
I'd spent this morning distracting myself. When Hubs headed to his office, I headed to my sewing room. I've been promising him that house robe forever. Took me around 6 hours, but he is now the proud owner of a lightweight summer robe covered in the eagles and flags that he loves so much. The sound of the sewing machine, the rhythmic hum as the stitches created something useful was therapeutic.
It calmed me and distracted me all morning and the few hours after I got home. I tried to simply sit, I couldn't. My mind kept wandering to places I didn't want it to go. I'm not even 56, I do not want the only alternative to be surgery or pain. Too many other things are changing, I need this to work. I need the pain to go away. It is getting in the way.
Tomorrow will be better. The poofy feeling that comes with the injections will be calmer, hopefully this headache will fade and the greatest disruption to my world will be the fact that my beautiful sewing machine is throwing a temper tantrum. She's not even 20 yet, she cannot be having issues.
Where ever you are look for joy and happiness. And if like me today and it feels out of reach, go out into nature with a cup of tea (or wine - wine is always good) and just observe "you should sit outside in nature for 20 minutes, unless you are busy and then you should sit for an hour." - this is credited to many and some say sit in meditation. I say just do it...
Good one. I love my robe!!! 381+
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