It rains like cats and dogs today...and ferrets...and snakes...and rats...and iguanas...and any other domestic pet you can think of. It would figure that such heavy rain would come on the day I had to get a new cast put on. As we drove to the orthopedic clinic today, we passed a water runoff that looked like a raging river. Flooding couldn't be that far behind.
But I got to see the special specialist again today, and was FINALLY granted permission to be on my foot "as tolerated." This means I can start walking and standing for as long as I feel no discomfort, which is a relief to Becky and I. Once more, I can engage in such things as doing the dishes!
But for the fact that the second toe on my left foot is feeling worse. I don't know if it's because of actual damage within, or if it's the weather, but my pain is definitely increased. And the toe...? When I change the dressing daily, it doesn't LOOK any better. Where I once had to convince Becky that removing the toe would be a good idea, she's now suggesting it on her own. "I really think it's time to take it off," she's said several times...
...and I'm inclined to agree. This thing is a physical and mental pain. The stress is getting bad enough, worrying over it, that my hair is getting grayer. Before, I had the more "distinguished" look of having gray at my temples. Now those damnable grays are showing up all over the place. I suppose I was lucky, as my biological mother was gray by the time she turned 18. Still, I don't like the "less-than-distinguished" look it's creating.
In addition to this, there's the fact that 9/11 is rapidly approaching. The trauma of the day still haunts me annually, and I suspect I'll be blogging on that day if I manage to think of anything new to say...or decide to simply spew the same pain that visits me this time every year.
And there's more. There are wildfires in TX. There's still more flooding in upstate NY. I have friends living in these areas, where Mother Nature seems to have unleashed her wrath for no other reason than "those areas were due." My friends don't need to suffer for me to feel overwhelming concern; they just have to be under the threat of suffering. That's when I want to throw on my tights and cape, fly to their rescue, using my powers "beyond those of mortal men" to fix everything.
Finally, thoughts of my father keep sneaking in on me. He and my step-mother are upset because I would "say such things on an internet." Yeah...a place where the people I know don't actually know them. And the things I was saying convey a message of how upset I was, and how I perceived things. They didn't want to discuss anything; they just wanted to be angry. Things were fine, with them none the wiser, until Stu - it HAD to be Stu - showed them what I was saying. Now everyone is hurting, making Stu a more precise clone of my biological mother than I previously thought. She destroyed lives. He destroyed lives. (Well played, Satan's nephew.)
Too many woes at the moment. Too much stress. I'm taking gobs of insulin to stay in some semblance of control, while attempting to remain "normal" amongst my friends on Facebook. I kind of praying the new meds my PCP prescribed will help me sleep the night through tonight.
Be well, and DFTBA.