Cabernet and an Allen Wrench

Last evening was the annual Barcs Wedding. It truly is a grand affair. Every year two Barcs alumni dogs get "married." It is held at the Lord Baltimore Hotel. Cocktails, wine, a not fancy but delicious dinner catered by Blue Pit, and dancing. Last year I went to the wedding using a walker, and I was sure I would be walkong unaided this year. But a broken hip changed all that. I use a cane at home and seriously considered going to the event using just the cane, but my better sense prevailed and I went using the walker. I recently got a pair of dressy trousers and I wore them, paired with a glittery top I got at a second-hand store in Reykjavik. The great thing about baggy pants is that my prosthesis, as well as my misshapen thigh, are hidden. I still hate the walker but I was glad to have it. I am doing well, and I would hate to fall for the sake of vanity. It was so fun to see Barcs staff and volunteers out of their usual jeans and t-shirts, all dolled up for the even...

and I'm not answering. As you may well imagine, I will never be going to London again. But the odd thing is, most of the television programs I watch are British procedurals. After dinner, Jerry and I head to the TV room, armed with La Croix fizzy water and Skinnypop, to watch an episode of whatever we are streaming at the time. And that is generally a police or MI5 procedural based in London. It might seem odd since it is somewhere I now have an allergy too, but mostly, it's fine. Except the other night. We were watching Slow Horses, and there was an extended shot of a London double-decker bus. Mind you, I have no recollection of being hit by one, but somewhere-- imgination, subconscious or deep in my memory before the trauma team sedated me, I see that bus. and me. on the ground. And I get unbelievably upset, and I experience a resurgence of deep-buried PTSD. Some of it may be related to my current physical self. While I am mostly out of the wheelchair, my physical thera...

I had an appointment at Hopkins today and all went better than expected. i got x-rayed and had my sutures removed. Everything was so well healed I didn't even need a bandage. I asked the PA when I could start wearing my prosthesis and she replied, as soon as I got home. So I have now had it on several hours, but I have to admit I have not walked much. The PA told me it would likely hurt to wear it, and she was right. In addition, I am using my walker because my balance is just not there. I know every step will make me stronger and better, but I also know that overdoing it will not speed up the process. When Jerry and I bicycled we always said: slow and steady wins the race, except in a race. So I am thankful I am not in a race. I have no deadlines. I also admit I'm a little afraid. I don't want to hurt myself. I don't want to fall. So I will take my time. Also, I am taking Calcium and Vitamin D in the hopes that if I do fall, I won't break anything. So now I ...

We are home from spending five days in Cleveland, a trip I had very mixed feelings about taking. While I really wanted to see my cousins, I hate going just about anywhere using the wheelchair. Nothing says disabled, at least to me, than a wheelchair. That, and one pant leg tied in a knot where my knee should be. Countless times a day I shake my head in disbelief. I say WTF more times than should be legal. I hate it. I am obviously not alone in these thoughts because as I have said before, I have been dumped by countless people. I speculate why, but I can't say for sure. You'd have to ask them, because they sure aren't telling me. Which brings me to my Cleveland family. No matter what might be going on with me, they would figure out a way to see me, hang out with me, go out to dinner with me, have great talks with me. I love these people. Jerry and I did decide to stay in a hotel, which certainly made things easier for everyone. We requested an accessible room and actual...

One is making me nauseated; the other is giving me cuddle time. Up at 4:30 am on Friday for 5:30 am surgery time. While I am hardly a morning person I was relieved to have the surgery scheduled early. Let's get this over with. I'm not sure what I had envisioned, but the surgery was certainly complex. Lots of screws, but no plate. I sent a photo of the xray to my surgeon in New York and he thought it looked excellent, which brought me great relief. Of all of my physicians, he is the one I trust the most. Maybe it's his attentiveness, which I realize does not necessarily make a good surgeon, but he did a great job on my OI, and he's at the top-rated ortho hospital in the US, and he treats me with respect and compassion. After a promised morning release time, the hospital let me go at 7 pm. I came home, had a couple bites of Jerry's cheese sandwich, took an oxycodone and closed my eyes. Shortly thereafter Michelle climbed on my chest and started purring. The gentle ...

This whole experience, from the start, has been traumatic. So today, I saw a trauma surgeon. I honestly thought fixing the very small femur fracture would be no big deal. I was wrong. Because it is so close to my osseointegration implant, it's going to be tricky. And with it, is the possibility of another fracture. But really, at this point, if I ever want to walk again, I am moving forward with the surgery. I get a CT scan on Monday, and my surgery is scheduled for December 13. Friday the 13th. Maybe, considering all the bad luck I've had, it will be fortuitous day. Today I begin the prep for Thanksgiving. I had had visions of me bustling around the kitchen on my own two feet, but instead, I will have to rely on Jerry to get things for me and to help me. Neither of us is happy about that. No question he has compassion fatigue. And I have lack of independence angst. What I'd really like to do is get back in bed and watch reruns of the Great British Baking Show. But ...