Old Person Crabby

I had an expectation, while waiting for my foot to heal, that once the walking boot could come off it would be smooth sailing.

This couldn't be further from the truth. 

My foot hurts worse now, especially at night, than it did the last month in the walking boot. My ortho advised that if the pain began to build I should probably switch back into the boot. Both my husband and my dad have suggested recently that I should slip it back on for a while. 

That feels like defeat. Like failure. Says the voice in my head, not the tone from their words. 

Stubborn? Me? Why do you ask?

While my ortho guy is top of the line, with explicit directions on taking care of everything step by step post surgery, there wasn't a lot of chatter on what to expect during healing. And with the exception of if it hurts a lot put the boot on followed by if the pain goes nuts come back in, there wasn't a discussion on what to expect now that the bones knitted back together. If you've spent much time with illness or injury in your life, as I have, this is pretty common. Repair and the mechanics behind it is the focus, moving forward is usually up to the patient. 

So I turned to the internet. I skipped symptom checkers so I'm not currently worried about my foot having frost bite or gangrene or some bizarre parasite. Turns out lots of folks who have had my kind of break and repair have the same questions. What's normal? How long does this go on? Should it really feel like that? 

In short, the bone repair is only the start of healing. And I was damn lucky in that area because my bone healed super, duper fast. The rest of it can take more than a year. Seriously?! It's one little bone in one small area of my body. I'm here to tell you: the stitches are out and the incision has long healed but the skin and musculature at the site is still so tender I don't let my husband rub his foot along mine when we're going to bed. The idea of my foot slipping and whacking into something makes me nauseated, even if I have a shoe on it. Let me repeat that for emphasis. Just the idea of my foot making contact with something makes me physically ill.

So if you're wondering how I'm feeling, in general or specific to my foot, I'm in pain. Several times a day my foot feels like I licked a light socket. 

And I'm crabby. Not the snapping at a well meaning comment from the hubby without warning kind of crabby. Bitchy crabby. That was earlier in the recovery phase. No, I'm in the worn out, don't have patience with the world at large and just want to take a nap crabby. Old person crabby. I want to prop my foot up and read a book until I fall asleep. Wake up, eat fresh bread, and snuggle with a dog. Repeat. 

But the world moves on. I'm back at full steam to regular life. I'm frustrated from the 3 month hiatus from 'normal' life that didn't result in being fully rested and bursting with energy. 

It's ridiculous to me how I feel. I know it's not a serious illness. I'm not recovering from catastrophic injuries. I'm crabby. I'm sore. I'm unfocused. I'm tired. My morale is in the toilet. Today. The past week. This too shall pass. 

The Year That Was

So long 2017. Greetings '18.

I thought I'd take a few minutes and ponder the year that was my 2017.

Our pack size regained it's happy medium (in theory) when without warning I committed our family to a new four-legged member. It took almost a year after the loss of our other dog and everyone else was more than ready by the time the wild hair took hold and a squirming, furry bundle of kinetic energy chewed through our front door and into our lives. I made it through the "puppy blues". I made it through teething (barely). He's my little snuggle buddy (or more accurately, I'm his) and has livened up all our lives.

The bullet journal didn't revolutionize my life. Sigh. I am chronically, systemically, hopeless unorganized. My life is also humdrum, mundane and predictable - until it's so far into explosive chaos without warning that I can't see straight. That's the two settings of my life. These things I was not able to reconcile with the addition of a bujo.  I either had the exact same daily to-do's to keep track of for weeks on end OR didn't have time to slow down to track a single thing. I gave up on the bujo attempt after several months but still consider perhaps turning the fancy notebook into some kind of personal reference book - lists of meds for each of my folks, character name ideas I come across You know, like I already have an app for in my phone. Just analog. Because I've got a spiffy journal sitting around with glorious, glorious empty pages...

I surpassed my (admittedly low) books read goal for the year. I read half again more than the goal, so I definitely think I've got room to stretch 2018's bar. Considering I've got more books on my TBR list that I can finish in a lifetime and more being added all the time, I need to move my ass. Or, sit kind of still and focus. Whatever.

My foreign language lessons fell by the wayside. Boo!

Writing group is (dare I say) flourishing. Regular meet-ups. New faces. Semi-regular outings. Sharing projects & entering contests together. It has been a sanity saver on so many levels for 2017 that I cannot begin to explain. Which speaks so well of my vocabulary and wordsmithing, doesn't it?

Which leads me to NaNoWriMo. As if I could leave that out. Grueling as ever. Super bummed that the local group didn't host all the events. A mixed bag as ever. Still not done with this $@)*&*&@) work in progress. I want to get it to some sense of completion, put it away for a while and start on a new story that has been clamoring for my attention since about summertime.

While my blog posts have been spotty at best this year, my fiction ideas continue to multiply. Must write freaking faster. Must block out distractions. Look at that. I made myself laugh. How bad do I want to keep going though? I want it, so I keep plodding away at the pace I've got to work with and dream of a time when I can hammer out exactly what I want at a faster pace. Practice, practice, practice. With a bit of peace in my home. So a miracle basically.

And I cannot review 2017 without the co-headliner to the new dog: breaking my foot and the wacky chaos that ensued. Is still on going. I'm healing. Bone is repaired. Musculature, nerves, etc takes longer but is on the mend. My healing foot looks kind of skeletal from atrophy, but I'm working on it.

Less social media. What would you do if you didn't scroll endlessly through instant pot recipes, selfies and endless ego stroking pleadings for attention? I'm scaling back my viewing and what a breath of fresh air.

I'd like to travel some in 2018 (okay, a lot but I'll take what I can get). Though if travel isn't in the cards again this year, I hope there's a kinder way to let me know than a series of car repairs and surgery. I want to read more. Write more. Laugh more. Nap more. I want to record family stories from my dad. I want to have ridiculous fun with my husband. More doggie snuggles.

Happy Near Year! May 2018 be more wonderful than we can imagine.