Last night hasn’t been as good as Saturday night. I don’t feel the throbbing and drilling in my knee but the weight of my leg is unbearable and panic overwhelms me. What if I can’t never again jump above the porch railing? Was if the mountains remain forever unreachable peaks? What if the agility I took for granted isn’t for me anymore?
I wake up after bouts of sleep that leave me weary. But breakfast, made of brioche and jam, orange juice and goat milk yogurt, puts me back in better spirit.
I have my first shampoo since Wednesday night. It doesn’t seem much but combing my fingers in my soft clean hair gives me back a sense of normality. I was missing a shampoo more than a shower since it is easier to sponge bath than washing hair.
Between reading a lot and the medicine, my eyes feel itchy and drowsiness keeps me away from serious work. However, the company of Ken Follett and his eccentric characters make up for the monotonous life I’ve had for the last month.
The weather is gorgeous and the golden sun falling on the furniture reminding me how winter in California is a gift.
I walk with my crutches from the sofa to the table, avoiding my bed until tonight. I need a sense of normalcy if I don’t want to be too shocked Thursday when the stitches will be removed.
I think my knee is better but I wasn’t expecting to be so tired after the surgery or even days after.
Darned! I can’t wait for spring.
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