All Aboard the Pity Train

It started about four days ago. Twinges deep in my left hip, especially when I got up after sitting in one place for a while. Then the hip became stiff. Then it became painful. Now I'm hopped up on NSAID's and Enterics to try to alleviate a painful inflammation of one or more of my hip muscles. And jeez is it humbling.

I am currently somewhat debilitated right now, which frustrates and scares me. This probably happened as a result of overdoing it on the bike last week. The offended muscle(s)must have simply lain in wait until I made one more horrible move and then, "Time to teach that girl a LESSON!!! Full Stop!!! Mutiny!!!!" I'm now getting a taste of what it's going to be like when I'm 88 yrs. old or so. Can't go up the stairs one leg at a time. Too painful. I have to do my right one, then the other joins it and so on. Can't get out of a chair without wincing. After waiting for my turn at the walk-in clinic for 1.5 hrs, I got up so slowly that I had to give a loud verbal acknowledgment that I was, indeed, on my way to the examining room, or I was afraid they'd give my hard-won appointment to someone else. Can't run. Can barely get on a bike (shouldn't anyhow in case that just makes it worse).

Two years ago this happened to my left arm. It was the most pain I have ever experienced, and just as debilitating in a different way. I couldn't brush my hair, I had trouble feeding myself, I had to be careful steadying things with the offending limb or (god forbid) knocking it inadvertently on something hard, unyielding and inconveniently placed. After twelve hours of my life I'll never get back, the diagnosis from the Emergency doctor was, "We have no &^%$#@!* idea what's wrong." Great. Thanks a lot. Oh, I should be grateful it wasn't gangrenous? I'll make a note of that for next time.

So now it's happened again, with a larger limb. A limb that holds me up. A limb that makes it possible for me to do my job, which I didn't do today (for which I get no sick pay). I'm so used to being active and problem-free that this sort of thing really rattles me. One of the most frustrating things is it's so vague. Sort of like a really bad spasm, but not. More like, as I already mentioned, my body staging a revolt instead of bouncing back like it used to. This means greater care must be taken in the future. Le sigh.

And the worst part? I can't eat chocolate or drink alcohol while I'm on the drugs. Yup. It Sucks To Be Me. :)

The Return of L. Deedah

Oh mercy, it has been soooooo long since I last posted. I blame it on romance. My last post was just before Valentine's Day. That fateful evening I sang in a concert to which I invited a man I had been in touch with through an Internet personals site. We hit it off and he came to see me sing. A strange circumstance for the first face-to-face encounter. It's one thing to meet someone at a cafe, in their street clothes, speaking the native tongue at a conversational level. It's another thing to encounter the individual in full evening wear, hair and makeup, wailing opera in a foreign language.

I was overtired and on the verge of a very, very bad flu. But we persevered, went out afterwards, kissed, and then didn't see each other for another two weeks as the flu did its pestilential thing.

Since then, D and I have gotten to know each other much better and are currently an item. Happiness tends to distract me, and makes me exponentially less inspired to journal or blog, or whatever. That being said, it does not excuse me from neglecting this blog. I started it in order to sharpen up my writing skills, and I think that's been somewhat successful. However, the 'discipline' end of things has gotten mighty flabby. And you thought I was going to go on and on about my (relatively) new relationship! Ha!

While I find the thought of sitting down to write something immensely daunting, the actual act is a degree or two easier, and the results are (usually) satisfying, if not downright gratifying. I will plainly admit I'm a procrastinator, avoiding what I consider unpleasant or difficult or annoying tasks, whether it's blogging or doing the dishes, or practicing singing, or finally tackling my taxes. I have mastered the fine art of puttering in an effort to avoid rolling up my sleeves and doing the dreaded job. Even leaving the house is a case study in stalling tactics: I tidy, I fold, I pull hair out of the brush, I fluff pillows, I check the weather forecast, etc.

So the blogging is often on my mind, but not on the site. Lately I've been aware of subject ideas rolling around in my brain box.

"The Toronto garbage strike. Yeah."

"The perils of running alone."

"Life before the computer."

"Why is meditation so bloody hard?"

"My adventures with the moon-landing hoax believers."

Fascinated? Well at least one of us is. And really, that's all it takes, right? Nuh-uh. It also takes actually sitting down at the computer and *&^#!^$ typing it out.

So, at long last, I have made the effort. As god is my witness, I pledge not to let such a long period of time pass before I do it again.