My husband is home from Africa. Husband and babes are at the grocery store - we have resorted to eating pizza the last few days. I'm starting to hate pizza.
My son's concussion seems to be healed - he made it through a whole day of school yesterday with no problems and seemed very lucid and happy last night. He's cleared to do anything except amusement parks (one of which we can almost see from our house), swimming (we can almost hear the splashing from our house), and bike riding (his passion).
Teenager is still being a teen. I have, however, decided that chores need to be done before she can do the ever important hanging out with friends. She didn't know how to turn on the dishwasher on last night - "I don't know how," she said in all seriousness. My two-year-old knows how. I have apparently failed my teenager by taking care of everything for her and need to make up for lost time. I think it will likely hurt both of us.
My foot got exponentially worse over the last two weeks (for those of you who are new here, I have inoperable nerve inflammation in my right foot - my driving foot). Hospital visits, doctor's visits, everyday driving, walks to the bus-stop to make sure my son got off the bus, and all the stuff that my husband usually does to help me out when he is home have completely done me in. My toddler was particularly clingy with dad gone and insisted I hold him and carry him most of the last two weeks, adding 30 pounds of weight onto my foot. By Wednesday night this week, I felt like there was a nail through my foot. Yesterday day I had to use a cane even in my house on the padded floors and in my yard, where I can usually walk normally.
After meds, propping it up, and icing it for 24 hours, today my foot only hurts when I stand on it, which is a huge improvement.
Yesterday, I spoke with my stepdad on the phone. He had a TMI a couple of months ago. He is OK but has some residual numbness in his foot and hand. After 30 minutes of listening to him complain about how the numbness was unbearable, I said it: "I would give anything for numbness." No, I wouldn't wish a stroke on myself, but numbness over pain would be a gift. "Oh, your foot still hurts?" he said. "Yes. Yes it does."
Today, I will make the best of things and will sit outside on my deck and edit my novel or maybe work on my new one - with cane by my side (assuming my toddler doesn't snatch it and dig with it in the mud again), coffee in hand, and a manuscript on my lap.