Some of you may already know: I severely injured myself this past week. In the I’ve been on bed rest since Tuesday way. I’m on the mend — I’m able to do things like sit up for moments at a time! It’s very exciting. (I wish I was joking, but being able to change position? Pretty awesome!) The last time I’ve been this hurt, it was an accident. This time? My own carelessness. I have no excuse, no one to blame but myself. I could have avoided losing a week’s worth of pay, could have avoided having to take this time to heal, could have avoided putting strain on Beth while she’s still getting over the cold from hell, if I had just taken the time to be careful and thoughtful. I’m struggling to not get down on myself over this, because it’s done already, and I can only change my actions henceforth.
That said? Bodies are amazing. I mean, seriously. For as clutzy as I am, for how careful I’m not. . . I had two positions I could be in, the first three days after this injury. Two. And doing things like getting up to shuffle to the bathroom? Or lifting anything at all? Agony. Burning, fiery, horrible agony. Sitting was unthinkable until yesterday, and even now ten minutes is about my limit. But, I can do it. The fact that I was pretty immobile until yesterday — Friday I started to improve, but there was a world of a difference between Friday and Saturday — and that I can walk around mostly upright, and bend my legs when I’m sitting, and get out of bed without crying much in a week’s time? Oh, but these are wonderful things, these bodies, this flesh and blood and bone and abused muscles and pissed off nerves.
I’m still not 100%. I am probably 40-50% at this point.
Have spent a lot of time with Reiki. A lot lot lot of time talking with my gods. Time, too, watching various things on Youtube. I’ve found the end of the internet, twice.
There’s no point to this, just open marveling at the awesomeness that physicality can be.