This morning, while taking a shower, I checked all the bruises on my arms. I can see that some of them are finally going away. One thing that I'm sure anyone, old or young can relate with, is that when you're in the hospital, it's like an attack of the needles. No one likes needles, and it's worse the second they might think something else is wrong with you other than the reason you came in for. One night, I got stuck 6 times total in both arms, just because they couldn't find a good vein for the contrast they use when doing a CAT scan. Mind you, I was already being stuck every morning at 5am for regular blood work, for a whole week before. It almost becomes torture. How terrible does it look when you have a 28 year old woman start to cry every time someone with a needle comes in? Did I mention I was getting those blood thinner shots in my stomach everday?
And then, there is the conquering the Walker. My body laughs at me everyday I get up and grab a holder of a multi-grey walker, with bright yellow/green tennis balls at the bottom of it. My body tells me everyday: "this is not natural... what are you doing holding on to this thing. Let it go already.. you can walk with out it... You'll be using it in at least 40 years, what's the rush?"
And then my injured side responds back: "what are you stupid? Let me go, and we're all going straight down to the ground. Who cares how old you are... You can't walk straight yet... stop worrying it's not forever. Simple as that."
And simple as that, I hold on to this aged device as if my life depended on it... which in a not so dramatic way it kinda does... Sigh..
Well good thing is that the bruises are finally fading, and humble pie has become my daily dessert.
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