It was bound to happen. The past few weeks, I had been thinking how well I feel, how I was able to get all sorts of things accomplished and that my pain levels were completely manageable with hardly any narcotics at all. Oh, sure, there were other things. Asthma attack. Gluten contamination. Some minor narcolepsy-type events. But nothing all that serious. Thus, I planned a busy Easter weekend doing housework and getting paperwork taken care of.
Which means, of course, that first thing this morning, my right foot went out of place and all I can do is wait for it to reduce itself. As long as I stay completely off it, I'm fine. But as soon as I get up, I'm hurting. I can't do housework, can't cook, can't rummage through my files looking for the papers I need, because all that requires that I stand and walk and use my hands. And I can't stand and have free hands since I need them to hold onto the canes to keep the weight off my foot. Not even my fancy-schmancy shoes help.
Here's hoping tomorrow is better, because there is so much I need to do. I want to at least put my new plants in pots.
The Death of Tolerance
1 day ago