My doctor was showing me some exercises to get my hand back up to speed. He ended by saying I should do some exercises to develop stamina in my fingers after not being able to use them for quite some time. “Like knitting? Playing piano? Typing?” I asked and he said that would be great. So now while I am sitting on my couch, watching TV for a couple of hours and knitting a sweater for my niece, I can honestly say I’m not being lazy. I’m doing doctor ordered physical therapy.
I also heard that chocolate and red wine were good for heart health. In moderation, of course. Who can knit with a whole bottle of cabernet in them? So a couple of truffles and a glass of wine? Just trying to stay healthy.
I also heard that many injuries are caused by ‘weekend warriors’, people with rather sedentary jobs who overdo activities on weekends and get hurt. So limiting my weekend exercise to walking from the couch to the fridge or microwave and back is simply my way of preventing sports injuries.
I also heard that getting out on a regular basis to enjoy social situations is instrumental in maintaining a positive mental attitude. So my weekly BINGO night bolsters my mental health. Especially when I win. Come on, caller. I need a G-49!
Another way to keep good mental health is to have pets. With as many pets as I have, I should be in perfect mental health, except they drive me crazy. Especially Barstow, my BIG chow/Shepard/Swissie mix. He thinks he is a lap dog and likes to sleep under my desk. Unfortunately whenever he hears a noise, he stands up and whacks his head on the underside of the desk. Then he looks at me like ‘why did you hit me?’ Stupid dog. I’m going to have to look more into that one.
Wednesday, February 29, 2012
Monday, February 20, 2012
Drugs and other ways to make money
One Handed
After months of dropping things from dishes to stitches I finally had the surgery to remove the lump from my hand. My left hand is currently buried under a thick layer of bandages. Instead of a hand, I have a gauze club with a thumb. You have no idea how many things you use two hands for until you don’t have two hands. I couldn’t even figure out how to unfasten my bra. It sure gives me a greater appreciation for my lovely sister-in-law who lost her left arm to cancer several years ago. I spent a week with her last summer and it didn’t seem to slow her down. And I couldn’t even open a can of pet food. Sorry, guys. It’s going to be dry food for a few weeks.
It’s bad enough trying to type with one hand, but when you have angry cats wondering why they are on prison rations batting at the keyboard to get my attention, getting anything done is a joke. After I nearly lost a whole chapter when my big tomcat stepped on the ‘Backspace’ key, I gave up editing my current novel. Besides, the Rachael vs Guy Celebrity Cook-off was abut to begin. So I sat down on the couch and automatically grabbed the knitting bag. GAACKKK! I can’t knit with one hand! No wonder the doctor gave me so many drugs. So I won’t think about all the things I can’t do.
And who needs a huge bottle of Vicodin? I can’t even take a whole one without falling asleep for twelve hours. Half of one twice a day cuts the pain fine and makes me only a little loopy. I asked my daughter, who is a jailer and so I felt would know people who know people, what I could do with all these pills. Just joking, of course. “How much can I get per pill?” She asked whether I wanted juice or ramen packets. “Juice is a lot more valuable because they can make pruno out of it. You know, jail-made alcohol.” Turns out Vicodin is a valuable commodity. The hard part is tapping into the jail distribution system without getting my daughter fired. There goes that drug-induced idea.
Maybe I’ll just take another pill and sleep. Just to get me another day closer to getting the bandages off.
After months of dropping things from dishes to stitches I finally had the surgery to remove the lump from my hand. My left hand is currently buried under a thick layer of bandages. Instead of a hand, I have a gauze club with a thumb. You have no idea how many things you use two hands for until you don’t have two hands. I couldn’t even figure out how to unfasten my bra. It sure gives me a greater appreciation for my lovely sister-in-law who lost her left arm to cancer several years ago. I spent a week with her last summer and it didn’t seem to slow her down. And I couldn’t even open a can of pet food. Sorry, guys. It’s going to be dry food for a few weeks.
It’s bad enough trying to type with one hand, but when you have angry cats wondering why they are on prison rations batting at the keyboard to get my attention, getting anything done is a joke. After I nearly lost a whole chapter when my big tomcat stepped on the ‘Backspace’ key, I gave up editing my current novel. Besides, the Rachael vs Guy Celebrity Cook-off was abut to begin. So I sat down on the couch and automatically grabbed the knitting bag. GAACKKK! I can’t knit with one hand! No wonder the doctor gave me so many drugs. So I won’t think about all the things I can’t do.
And who needs a huge bottle of Vicodin? I can’t even take a whole one without falling asleep for twelve hours. Half of one twice a day cuts the pain fine and makes me only a little loopy. I asked my daughter, who is a jailer and so I felt would know people who know people, what I could do with all these pills. Just joking, of course. “How much can I get per pill?” She asked whether I wanted juice or ramen packets. “Juice is a lot more valuable because they can make pruno out of it. You know, jail-made alcohol.” Turns out Vicodin is a valuable commodity. The hard part is tapping into the jail distribution system without getting my daughter fired. There goes that drug-induced idea.
Maybe I’ll just take another pill and sleep. Just to get me another day closer to getting the bandages off.
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