Medical tape was created by sadists.
After a day abounding with technical difficulties too numerous to name I announce my return. You may now return to your regularly scheduled program.
I never thought to use the words “pet” and “duck” in the same breath until you became a part of our lives. If anyone had told me two years ago that a duck could make a good house pet I would’ve laughed. You were s “house duck” because your legs, twisted with avian gout made it impossible for you to forage for food like an average duck would. So we named you Fergie after Sarah Ferguson the Duchess of York. I have always admired her and I thought you needed a strong name to live up to in spite of your difficulties. Guess what? It worked you eventually were strong enough to fly out of moms grip several times. You were our super duck and I will miss you.
This is one time I’m very glad for prescription medicine…for such a small incision it hurts a bunch
You can all breathe now I’m absolutely fine I sound funny because they put a tube down my throat but I’m otherwise fine.
Tomorrow I go into the hospital for surgery, out patient surgery this time thank goodness. This means I
should will be home before six in the evening. It’s only removing an extra long screw which has been causing me grief , the rest od the metal gets to stay put as structural reinforcements. They really did put me back together better than I was before.
Spring is just around the corner or so they tell me. It is hard to believe some mornings but I hold out hope that they may be right. For me that means getting the bike out of the garage again and doing battle with the hill my driveway is on and an overprotective parent who seems to have an objection every time I want to do something remotely physical since I broke my legs in September . Sometimes I wonder how old I will have to be before people stop second-guessing me and the choices I make. Considering my age now and the fact that it still happens on a regular basis I doubt it will be any time soon. Such is my life.Well they can’t keep me in bubble wrap forever.
I am still surprised at how much this attention this blog has gotten in the fairly recent past. I started it is nothing more than a repository for my thoughts. It was a last ditch effort to keep writing fun for me, a place where I didn’t feel obligated or under pressure to write and with the pressure and overhanging sense of obligation gone I write. What I never expected was for other people to write me back. When I began I wrote out of desperation now I write in the hope of hearing even just one small voice cheering me on in the distance. Even constructive criticism has that effect. If a person offers constructive criticism I don’t take it negatively because the person’s comment is in effect saying to me, “I believe in you and I want to help you become someone greater than you are at this present moment.” Some of the people reading this might be aware that I have a half written manuscript gathering dust on my hard drive. To be honest, I haven’t touched it in months, every time I have tried I am overwhelmed with a horrible case of performance anxiety and anything I managed to write sounds stilted and two-dimensional and therefore gets scrapped almost as soon as I write it.I have discovered that the comments and even just the simple views that this blog accumulates are slowly helping to rebuild my confidence in myself as a competent writer, for that simple gift I will never be able to say thank you enough.
I like Valentines Day, or to be more accurate I like the sentiment behind it. The major thing I have against it is the advertising that goes on four weeks prior to the holiday itself. Most of the advertisements, especially for jewelry seem to imply (for me at least) that any woman who doesn’t have a significant other to buy her what ever nice thing they happen to be selling is somehow deficient and less than what she should be. Speaking from the experience of being a woman who hasn’t had a significant other to buy her things in some time I can say with a moderate degree of certainty that most of those women would gladly change that state if the opportunity presented itself. We know we’ll represent a relative minority and being constantly reminded of it for at least two weeks before the aforementioned holiday is similar to being repeatedly beaten over the head with a 2 x 4. Trust me when I say this, it hurts, some of us more than others I’m sure, but it hurts nonetheless. I’m not suggesting that companies completely stop advertising for the two weeks prior to Valentine’s Day but could you please give the less fortunate among us the links of at least two or three commercials before you decide to hit us over head again?
Its the day before Valentine’s Day.I’m not much of a fan to be honest. I’m no one of those who believes it was a holiday created only for commercial reasons, don’t worry. My reasons are much more personal and specific to me. I am somewhat socially awkward truth be told. I can hold a conversation on many things, the customs of medieval Europe and Britain for example. I can tell you who Valentine’s Day was named for and how he died and why. I can tell the original story of Cupid, for starters he’s a grown man not the childlike cherub so many people depict nowadays, though he did have an impressive set of wings.I can see through most of the plots and books and movies to the much older story that was the basis for whatever book or movie it is. The problem is that the people who appreciate that kind of knowledge are few and far between and people who are within 10 years of my age who carry that trait seem to be even more rare. The consequences of this is that I’ve been alone for a good portion of my life. I am more or less alone again this year. I struggle to convince myself that it can’t last forever but when February 14 finally creeps up on me and I’m still alone, it gets harder every year to believe that next year will be any different. In case anyone’s interested while most people will be doing something with their significant others tomorrow evening I will be watching a dog show with Mom most likely.