I’m in the hospital. Don’t worry it is just the next step in the process of making a fully automatic humanoid full of wit, charm and the ability to straighten my leg.
The only downside is that I’m not going to be able to run hurdles. Upside? Maybe with a little faith, and trust, and pixie dust, I can walk. Maybe. A step or two. I’m not going to go too crazy, walking (and its best friend, falling down) broke me in the first place.
I am really happy about this surgery. My last one too. My surgeon rocks.
Anyway, I am even more happy about this past weekend. Camping with my sexy husband. In a very wonderful, very special campground with beautiful scenery, lots of fun, and freedom to be yourself.
As writers in general, and bloggers in particular, we are storytellers. The story of this weekend, this year, really, my whole life is restlessly pacing the cell of my mind. It threatens to break free, but I’m trying to keep it inside until I’ve been able to process it more.
This might have something to do with the painkillers, but for the first time in quite a while, I feel really good.
Wonderful now that they eased my pain, and I have ice-cream and cherry cobbler on the way.