(Apologies for the ear-worm BTW).
I’m just going to type and hope this comes out in some sort of cohesive flow, but I’m not promising anything. I blogged the other day about last week and how it was hard work for me, physically and mentally. It was my last week with Mum before she had to go home, instead of going to the cinema or doing anything sensible, I was stuck in bed and feeling very sorry for myself.
Mum’s visit this time around fairly flew by, no sooner had she arrived, then all of a sudden she was packing to go again. I took her to the airport yesterday with Peanut to help us both and help him understand what was going on, many tears were shed. Then some more when over dinner Peanut asked where Granny was. Hubs had just got home, he came into the dining room to find me weeping at the table trying to explain that I wasn’t hurt, but I was sad and that it was ok to feel sad. Trying to find the language for Peanut to understand was difficult, but I did the best I could. I said that when we tell each other we love each other, it feels nice in our hearts; but when we say goodbye, it hurts in our hearts as we miss people when they’re not with us. I also said that we miss Nanna Helen, Hubs’ mum who had passed away before I met him. Peanut seemed to understand this ok, as he said that Granny was on a plane going back to Grandad this morning, that Mama was hurt and sad and she missed Granny and that Dadda missed his Mama too.
Holy moly, talk about breaking you open.
Last night I drank far too much, ate too many chocolates and watched Grand Budapest Hotel . I’d inadvertently chosen probably the best film to take me out of where I was, it was fantastic, Wes Anderson back to his best, Ralph Fiennes was so funny in his role, I asked Hubs to get it for me for Christmas.
Waking this morning with a medium sized hangover, only adverted from being a stonking one by drinking lots of water every time I woke up last night hot, (yes – that bad). I had breakfast, prayed Peanut wouldn’t poop (sorry if you’re eating) and got us out the house on time and in one piece, to be nearly squashed by a truck that pulled out on me at aroundabout.
Today I had my first follow-up visit with the Osteo regarding my knee, I wanted to wait for as long as I could for the swelling to go down, but not too long I hampered my recovery. I’ve got exercises to do on the hour, every hour. I also have to ride an exercise bike at the gym each lunchtime and go into the hydrotherapy pool as often as I can before now and Monday night which is when I’m seeing her again. Poor Jo, all she’s done is fix me this year.
I started 2014 thinking about what words I wanted to take me through the year and chose ‘Fit’ and ‘Strong’, ooh the irony. I’ve fallen down the stairs and bruised my coccyx; I aggravated my hip socket when I fell out a yoga pose; found I have weak ankles and glutes; hurt my shoulder in a boxing class; had gastro twice, ‘flu once and heaven alone knows what else. My GP says I’m the healthiest sick person he knows – thanks! I was in better shape, at least, not as broken, before I started trying to get fit and healthy.
As for ‘Strong’, I don’t know. My mental state fluctuates a lot, I’m aware that I’m stuck at the moment and struggling, I can tell that a lot of my belongings are going to head out the door to the charity shop this weekend. The pantry and kitchen cupboards are also going to get pulled out and organised, and if I’m feeling adventurous, I’m going to go through my books too as I need to dust the shelves prior to Christmas decorations going up somewhen next week.
This past week I’ve been more anxious than normal, partly because I was worried about work, not being there and all. This was exacerbated when I got into work on Monday to find that the two days’ worth of work I’d done the week before last to reconcile a weeks’ worth of correspondence while I was on leave (in Canberra with Mum), had utterly vanished into the ether, never to be seen again. I’ve since recovered what I could, done what I could; but until this afternoon, I was out of sorts as I struggled to find correspondence in four separate places that I’d logged and cleared off my desk. The four separate places are just the way the systems ‘work’ at work. However, the spreadsheet where I keep everything updated daily which is my Lonely Planet guide for the whole Department, the network lost all my changes in it from the week before last, only going back to the beginning of the month. So much for versions, autosaves and not ever losing anything, not ever again. Maddening.
Here I am, with my foot propped up on a box under my desk, missing my yoga, missing my running, feeling utterly miserable that I can’t do any exercise. I am so grateful that I haven’t done any huge damage to my knee, but yet again, I have to go back to the beginning and start all over again. Both my GP and my Osteo think I had a Baker’s Cyst; nothing like ‘Tennis Elbow’ it’s named after the person who first described it. I know I’m lucky, very lucky. With a bit more luck I may be running again by the end of the year. Until then, I’ll do my exercises, ride a bike and walk backwards in the pool. And not have a drink until Christmas day.