Physicalia
Wednesday, January 17th, 2018 09:43 pmSince I started doing acrostics and stopped playing online solitaire, my tendinitis has... improved, at any rate, and my sense of futility has decreased a little. Acrostics take longer than solitaire, but there's an ending to them, unlike the mindless misery of one game after another.
The effects of cortisone shots is usually: month 1, free as a bird, I fly; month 2, twinges now and again especially on achey days; month 3, back to normal levels of crippledness. I am a week from my next shot, and the month 3 symptoms have only just started. This makes me happy. OTOH, they *have* started and the bike that allows for mobility at such times is not usable: so it's going to be a long and activity-curtailed week.
Woke at 8 this morning from ativan sleep (needed for the unpleasant things I did to my leg yesterday, wearing grippers on the wrong boot) turned over and went back to sleep until 10, in which time I dreamed I was at an Italian hotel in the mountains on a group or family tour, and there were no toilets in the bedrooms or the public washrooms. Other guests didn't seem to be bothered by this, but I was growing increasingly perplexed by the vanished facilities. Turns out the owner had hidden them all from us because the last time our business co-ordinator booked rooms for a staff holiday, back in 1990 when C didn't even work for us, she'd cancelled some reservations without notice or shorted him on something, and this was his revenge.
( Meme )
The effects of cortisone shots is usually: month 1, free as a bird, I fly; month 2, twinges now and again especially on achey days; month 3, back to normal levels of crippledness. I am a week from my next shot, and the month 3 symptoms have only just started. This makes me happy. OTOH, they *have* started and the bike that allows for mobility at such times is not usable: so it's going to be a long and activity-curtailed week.
Woke at 8 this morning from ativan sleep (needed for the unpleasant things I did to my leg yesterday, wearing grippers on the wrong boot) turned over and went back to sleep until 10, in which time I dreamed I was at an Italian hotel in the mountains on a group or family tour, and there were no toilets in the bedrooms or the public washrooms. Other guests didn't seem to be bothered by this, but I was growing increasingly perplexed by the vanished facilities. Turns out the owner had hidden them all from us because the last time our business co-ordinator booked rooms for a staff holiday, back in 1990 when C didn't even work for us, she'd cancelled some reservations without notice or shorted him on something, and this was his revenge.
( Meme )
