On the latest and varied, real and imaginary ATR progress widgets, I am:
- 3 weeks, 4 days post-op
- 4 weeks more in full NWB casts
- on episode 9 of Mad Men Season 3
- catching up on this season’s Grey’s Anatomy
- rapidly becoming adept at drawing creatures of the sea in various states of sartorial sophistication
All things taken together, a single-word generating ATR progress widget would yield ‘Shitty’. Mine is a world where Kepner lives and McSteamy dies, where the still-living Kepner is additionally sleeping with Avery (JACKSON FUCKING AVERY!!! ), where all the married ad men are sleeping with anyone they damn well please and doing whatever the fuck they want, while it’s a real monkey-performing-shitshow for the women and wives, who all have bigger breasts and/or nicer dresses than me anyway, AND they’re all striding around or shifting their hips while walking around on their own two feet. (Except Guy MacKendrick. That dude’s foot was just mown off.) And it makes me want to wail, ‘What the hell is the point?’
The more salient and sobering news came this past Friday, from which I am still slightly reeling: mine is the hospital with the non-progressive protocol, so I’m NWB and in casts for another four weeks. Apparently, this was due to a lot of non-compliance in this hospital and a high rate of re-rupture once patients came out of casts and were put into boots. There really isn’t much of an upside to this except that I can be REALLY sure that my a-hole of an AT is stuck together by the time I start in a boot. I’m sure I could make more :/ type faces and get put into a boot and start weight-bearing sooner, but I want the doc’s support, guidance, and say-so. (Don’t tell The DG, but, truthfully, I’m generally an aim-to-please-do-as-I’m-told sort and trying to go rogue on this would fill me with dread.)
So. I’m just going to chalk it up to bad luck in being closest to the hospital with the most passive protocol, and count myself lucky that everyone has so far been kind and efficient, and look forward to seeing the lovely plaster man twice more… (shh)
I know. Stop with the malingering and complaining. No good will come of it.
The DG and I almost had an(other) argument because I was whinging about something ATR-related, and he said things weren’t that bad and that I needed to keep things in perspective, to which I made some comment about everything being relative and that one might make the same argument about perspective to someone with cancer who wasn’t dying of AIDS and starvation in some war-torn country, and then The DG accused me of comparing myself with people with cancer and AIDS and I most certainly wasn’t and I said so and he said I most definitely was and then things almost got out of hand. A word of advice to other ATR sufferers whose partners have suddenly become full-blown carers as well, maybe don’t mention ‘cancer’ or ‘AIDS’ around them because that shit makes them crazy.
Maybe for perspective I will watch ‘My Left Foot ‘. Although, given my state of worse-than-cancer-and-AIDS-and-starvation-combined-self-pity-and-selfishness, maybe I’ll just envy him his sinister foot dexterity…
I would just watch ‘Misery‘ but The DG won’t allow it.