The Glad Game...not something usually played at the Pity Party

Do you remember the old Disney movie "Pollyana" that starred Haley Mills? When I was a kid I loved that movie. I've never read the book, but I had the movie on tape and I watched it over and over, almost to the point I had it memorized. In it Pollyana played this thing called "the glad game" where she'd try to think of things that made her glad when her life was not going so well. I've been playing it in my head the past few days...and I keep losing.

When regular fail just isn't good enough

 

Yes, my foot has an injury that is making it hard for me to get around. I am rubbish on crutches. I can barely walk with them, let alone carry anything, work, take a shower, help with dinner, or do pretty much anything except drive. I ache all over because I have zero upper body strength and there are muscles being using right now that I am pretty sure have never been used before in my life. My blood sugars have been *mostly* okay though all of this, though the fact that I can't do any exercise (other than moving from one room to another, which makes me break a sweat) is taking its toll. And if I don't blow out my right knee before this is over it will be a miracle.

 

Oh, and I missed this on Saturday:

 

I got the Maroon 5 tickets in November. The seats weren't this good, but still.

 

This is the pity party talking, though. I have more than enough good things and wonderful things in  my life to make up for this temporary inconvenience. I do. And I can list them until I'm blue in the face. I have an amazing husband that is taking care of me. I have a pack of dogs that love me. I have a job I love, friends that are there for me, staff that are willing to pick up some extra work because I can't do it. I can still drive myself around. I am getting exercise every time I pick up those crutches. I have the time to take off of work and heal. I missed Maroon 5 but I'm not missing New Kids on the Block. Rob Paulsen liked a Facebook post I tagged him in, which is epically cool. And the most obvious, this is only temporary...

 

So why am I still depressed and cranky?

 

Because this is how I feel emotionally

 

I am listening to positive music. I am reading positive books (and since I read mostly Young Adult literature that's a hard thing to do because apparently all that teens want to read these days is depressing dystopian garbage.) I am forcing myself to think happy thoughts, and maybe that's my problem. I am forcing myself to be happy when I'm really not. How can I be happy? I'm the one who tries to take care of things and now I'm a burden on everyone I love and I can't even get myself a drink unless it's in a sippy cup...

 

Granted, my version of a sippy cup is AWESOME

 

I think I just haven't given myself time to wallow in a little self pity so I can pick myself up and deal with it. I keep thinking to myself "I can handle this" and I know I can, because what choice do I have, really? Even when I stayed home from work the day after I tore my plantar fascia I was like, "Oh, well. Missing a concert I didn't really want to go to anyway." (Lie. Just a flat out lie.) "Oh, well. Gonna have to use some sick leave. No biggie." (Lie. I am surely going to miss out on bonus days now and I don't feel sick at all.) "Oh, well. I can stay home and write." (Lie. I haven't been able to write anything outside of a blog and that's one of the most frustrating things ever.) I keep saying I'm fine to everyone including myself but I'm not and I won't let myself realize it. Well, until now.

 

 

Better of Ted, 2009-2010

Gone but not forgotten...

That Soothsayer Wasn't Messin' Around

Today is the Ides of March, and brother, I wasn't prepared for it. At. All. Beware the Ides of March?  Dude, that's the understatement of the year so far.

Everything started out normal today. I woke up feeling pretty good. Got in my 30 minutes of exercise, got myself some coffee and some lunch packed, and I was ready to start my day. I made it to the car, put my stuff in it and....water is seeping out of my garage.

Well, I've lived in this house long enough to know not to ignore things like this, and when I went into the garage I found the water softener had sprung a leak.

Water, water everywhere...

 

No problem, though I admit I had a brief moment of panic. I called the plumber, my husband came home so I could cover the desk at work, and it didn't even cost us a second mortgage to get fixed. Little bump in the road, but out of the way early, so no worries.

 

Riiight.

 

While I was at work I noticed my foot was hurting more than yesterday. I figured it was because yesterday when I was at the podiatrist he gave me a night brace to wear, and it was a little awkward. I'm not used to it yet, so it probably made me a little sore. No big deal. But late this morning while I was walking to another department, my foot popped. When I say "my foot" I really mean the plantar fascia which has been giving me grief for the last month, and when I say "popped" I mean I heard and felt something that I never want to hear or feel again. Within a minute I was breaking out in a cold sweat and feeling so sick to my stomach I thought for sure I was going to toss my cookies right in the hallway.

 

 

I called home to talk to my hubby, who offered to take me to the hospital. I decided against that and called my doctor, who said to not put any pressure on it and to come back in as soon as possible and see one of his partners since he was gone the rest of the day. My parents drove a walker over to me and I tried to get as much work done as I could before I had to leave for my appointment because I was pretty sure from how much pain I was in that my work week was done at this point.

 

Turns out I tore the damn plantar fascia in my left foot, which is apparently a rare and not so wonderful occurrence. Fortunately (?) when they do surgery on a PF they cut it to stretch it out, so basically my foot skipped ahead. Now I have to stay off of my foot for at least one week, maybe two, and I need to learn how to get around on crutches. I've never broken a bone so this will be a new experience for me. Oh, and I have to wear one of these:

 



The Boot.

 

Oh, I also left my Dex meter at work in my hobbled haste to get to the doctor, so my husband, who at this point had already taken off half the day for the plumbing, took off the rest of the day so he could go get that and then come home and take care of me, which is good because the walker I borrowed from my parents has already given me a blister. We're gonna borrow some crutches from a friend instead and hope I fare better on those.

 

The worst of this is that exercising is going to be even more difficult now. I was getting used to the exercise bike- really liked using it, in fact. Two weeks done and I really felt good about it. And now with the boot I have to find other ways to get my aerobics in. It's always something, isn't it?