Hard to Hold On To

So, here I am at my desk in the Lost Apartment and it’s not even quite noon yet. I had my follow-up appointment, ran an errand, and then stopped by the office to make sure my leave had been approved–it had–and then I came home. Sparky is being his usual Big Kitten Energy nuisance self, but luckily he’s adorably forgivable and I love him. Besides, he’s not going to stop until he feels like it in the first place.

Do not fight, or stress about, things you cannot control.

The good news is the recovery is going well, and my surgeon is most pleased with how I am healing. I’ve been freed up to do a lot more, and the primary focus from now on is actually rehabilitation–getting back the range of motion and then the strength. The physical therapy for strength won’t be until February, and he thinks I’ll be done with the range of motion–based on what I already have–before Christmas, which is lovely. I can do everything–within reason–that I usually do other than lift, push or pull heavy things. He actually encouraged me to type–as that will help with finger dexterity, which will help the recovery of the range of motion, and so on. I literally floated out of the doctor’s office, I was so happy and relieved to have the anxiety and stress of the past week gone (at least for now). I don’t have to use the sling anymore (it wasn’t the fun kind of sling anyway), and I can put on shirts, get dressed, shower, basically everything that doesn’t involved the aforementioned things. This is really lovely. I can even sleep in my own bed again instead of the easy chair, which is going to be so fucking amazing. I have been sleeping well anyway–which isn’t always the case when it comes to these things–but it was my body realizing it needed more rest.

I am still going to take it easy, though. I am going to get back to work on my book, clean out my emails, and try to get stuff as caught up as I can. As I have mentioned numerous times, I’ve had to spend a lot of time thinking while sitting in my easy chair this past week, and one of the things I’ve realized–recognized? acknowledged?–is that I don’t need to do volunteer work anymore. I’m getting older and my energy supply doesn’t seem to replenish as quickly as it used to; some days I feel like I am running on accessory and my batteries aren’t recharging to full capacity the way they used to. I’ve been volunteering for one place or the other for decades now, it’s time for other people to pick up the baton or pass the torch or whatever the hell metaphor you want to use for this. I’ve had a bad year personally–not the only person who has, mind you, well aware, and always aware that things could be worse at any moment–and that’s worn me down quite a bit, and I never really recovered my equilibrium after the pandemic started, and especially not since I myself caught the nasty coronavirus. My memory still isn’t as sharp as I would like, and I find myself forgetting things I can’t believe I can’t remember, but some of that stuff was just brain clutter anyway. I know I am going to be less sentimental about the books and will be boxing up more to donate when I am able; I am going to try to resist the urge to bring in more until I have made more progress on the TBR pile.

And on that note, I am going to bring this to a close, repair to the chair and read for a while, and then spring into get-things-done action after showering…a good, long, hot shower.