Tag: ouch

Win/Lose

Today, I’m choking on one of life’s bitter pills, it seems: someone else wins really, really big, and boom, I feel like I automatically lose. I feel completely knocked on my ass.

There’s the part where I am admittedly jealous, yearning for changes I’ve been trying to put into motion for years. There’s an “ouch” factor, where it just plain stings that I’ve done “all the right things,” so to speak, and not much has changed, except that I’ve grown lonelier and more in debt. There are definitely some heartstrings being pulled, where any remaining hopes and dreams just got balled up and tossed in the gutter… stupid daydreamy fantasies filled with words like “home,” “together,” and “family” that still lingered in the most secret spots of my soul just got ripped right out, roots and all, with no anesthetic.

I feel childish and embarrassed for being jealous. I feel a little angry at myself for not being happier about that big win. I definitely feel disappointed that those cobweb-laden daydreams still cause me so much pain after all the time that’s gone by. Yeah, I’m feeling generally ashamed of myself for not being a kinder, warmer person about this, but for two or three hundred reasons, I feel hurt. You win some, you lose some, and I guess I’m ready for some wins.

Stupid Ankle Update

My injured ankle has now become “my stupid ankle,” because I am frustrated and over it.  I was excited a month ago that the physical therapist determined my talus bone was out of place, wedged under another bone, and freeing it would put me back on my feet in no time.  I endured a super painful manual effort to free the bone that was supposed to be supported by the exercises I was doing to move the talus back where it belonged.

At my evaluation yesterday, it was determined, nope, the bone is not yet free, and basically all my strength and balance exercises for the last 2 months mean nothing until the bone is free to move in my ankle again.  I sat through the excruciating process to try to push the bone out from its stuck spot and nearly barfed, ending with the physical therapist shaking her head and saying we’d have to get “more aggressive” in coming appointments.  MORE aggressive? I am already sweating and nauseous from the pain…maybe I’ll be just lose consciousness if it gets more aggressive.

I’ve been sleeping a whole lot more lately, and if someone else told me they were going through a few months of physical therapy and sleeping more, I’d tell them that they need to rest and heal.  Of course, I tell myself not that I need to rest and heal, but that I need to get out of bed and do something.  Sigh.  Stupid ankle.

Send healing thoughts; I need them.  I found something on the magical world wide web that I will mention to my therapist tomorrow, because I’m sure she’ll be delighted that I am trying to create my own treatment plan, right?  I found an option where a doctor numbs the area, puts it into traction like you would if you were setting a broken bone, and then exerts the necessary force to free the bone; if this is possible, while I’m sure the surrounding tissue will be inflamed and sore afterward, it would put an end to the slow painful efforts being made at PT.  It’s worth asking.

Today was Mole of Doom Day

It hurts!  The place where the spot was removed is a place where there’s no cushion really, just skin and bone.  Feels like Walker Texas Ranger roundhoused me in the chest…and I just took a little teensyweensy peek at the spot with the stitches, and it’s a very small area to hurt so flippin’ much…and where it looked sort of okayish earlier today, now that I’ve been up and around and about my usual business, it looks gross.  I’m going to leave a BandAid on it for possibly 8 years or so…nudge me when it’s all healed up.

I hate to whine about something so itty bitty, but it’s all about locationlocationlocation.  It hurts when I cough.  It hurts when I laugh.  It hurts when I lift my arms.  I’m throwing a pity party, but the best pity parties are the ones where I wallow all alone, so please leave red wine, good chocolate and some Nicholas Cage movies on the front porch and go away………………………………………………..but let’s just prolong the pity party by pointing out there will be no red wine and Nicholas Cage for me, because I have to study for an exam tomorrow!  ACK!