How I wish this had not been
So ok, knee surgery happening for definite certain this May. Surgeon was mildly supportive of the notion that knee's hijinks are causing at least some of the really crippling muscle pain. Like I could have coped with today's joint stiffness if my glute muscles hadn't scrunched up into a node of pain that made walking extremely unpleasant. Acupuncture may ease it tomorrow, massage may ease it Saturday. But those have proved to be stopgap measures. Only surgery seems the one option likely to restore some of my mobility, so surgery it is.
This becomes more critical as s-i-l floats the idea of them selling their house and moving into an apartment. She does get these ideas periodically (like selling the house and moving to the cottage) and then decides no, this is the perfect neighbourhood how can she leave it. But retirement having happened at last and all that lovely legal money gone, downsizing is clearly in the offing. At which point I lose my support system and must again fend for myself. This would naturally be much easier if I could fricking *walk*.
There was a young guy in a wheelchair at the hospital waiting for xrays with me. One of those chatty type women, here with her mother who'd broken her collarbone, four ribs, and both legs in a car accident, was complimenting him on his wheelie skills with the chair and went on to ask what had happened. Fell twenty feet down a shaft at work and broke his spine, is what. So I have nothing to complain of, really. It's just, everything hurts.
This becomes more critical as s-i-l floats the idea of them selling their house and moving into an apartment. She does get these ideas periodically (like selling the house and moving to the cottage) and then decides no, this is the perfect neighbourhood how can she leave it. But retirement having happened at last and all that lovely legal money gone, downsizing is clearly in the offing. At which point I lose my support system and must again fend for myself. This would naturally be much easier if I could fricking *walk*.
There was a young guy in a wheelchair at the hospital waiting for xrays with me. One of those chatty type women, here with her mother who'd broken her collarbone, four ribs, and both legs in a car accident, was complimenting him on his wheelie skills with the chair and went on to ask what had happened. Fell twenty feet down a shaft at work and broke his spine, is what. So I have nothing to complain of, really. It's just, everything hurts.

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Though how *do* you do it? Barely finished drafts for one and edits for the other and then ye gods back to salt mines. I'd go barmy.
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And the books have been different in style... that helps.
But yes, I am getting tired.
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Decisions, decisions. You pays your money and you makes your choice.
I plan to take a few days break when I've sent in book 7 before I get anywhere near started on book 8, though...
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Good. Take a nice long break.
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