"Cheer up," she said. "Things could always be worse."
So I cheered up.
And sure enough, things got worse.
That's the caption for the comic of my life. Seriously - I wrote that positive, happy post yesterday, and started thinking "Hey, maybe it will be OK, right?" The pup had a great day at kindergarten and was sleepy and calm. The Kid was off at tap dance class. I'd not only written a post, I'd put up privacy panels on my deck, and worked on a new t-shirt design (in the Bumblebat shop), and I had a whole bunch of cool ideas for a kids' book I'm working on! A pretty good day.
Two minutes later - I was screaming in pain.
Minou (the cat) insists on torturing Elsa Bear. She sits just outside the playpen. Or the crate. Or on a stool just out of reach... or she walks through the playpen... for such a sweet cat, she's being a real bitch. And Elsa Bear... she's a puppy! she wants to play. Interactions do not end well. I mean, crashing furniture and knocked over gates kind of bad. So Elsa Bear always has her leash trailing behind her so I can step on it to catch her or get her to go into a down position.
But everyone seemed so calm last night. I let her follow me down from the studio (we're getting better at stairs!), and walk through the whole house on her own. We folded some laundry. As I stuck my head into the dryer to pull out some more clothes, I heard a yip, a hiss, and the sound of claws clattering on tile. I lunged for her leash as it flew by me! My foot on her leash halted her from grabbing the cat, but Minou hissed and lashed out causing Elsa Bear to leap into the air - and yank her leash like a whip - through my bare toes - and both beasts took off to the other end of the house.
It took a minute to actually feel the pain. Even as I was staring at my toe trying to figure out why it was pointed in the wrong direction.
Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck... I know this song - it happened two years ago when I swerved in the storage hallway to avoid tripping over Minou as she raced around the corner. I smashed my little toe off! It took 6 months to heal.
This time.. it's my right foot. My driving foot.
We didn't go to Lowell to the Open Studios today. I can't go to Bar Harbor next week, And it is very hard to take care of a puppy. I am SO angry at myself for two seconds of carelessness. And I know better. I've been trying to adapt the training to protect my body from puppy pain, but every time she pulls suddenly on her leash, there is shooting pain through my shoulders. Now when I look at her leash, I want to run. But it will be a while until I can run. Or walk properly. Dammit.
The Kid helped me out this morning - she took Elsa Bear out for her morning Bio-Break and Meditation.
I'd been planning to assemble a dog fence around that whole area, tomorrow. It takes at least two people to put it together. The box is so heavy, I had to swivel it from corner to corner to move it. I wish we had done it Friday before I messed up my foot. Another reminder that one should "never put off til tomorrow what you can stay up all night doing today". Cuz, you never know what's coming. Especially if you "cheer up!"
The Kid goes back to her Other House tomorrow. And with the five day Holiday weekend, there's no one around to help this week. Until Friday - when my Service Human comes to take me to another MRI. Sigh. Yes, this does look a lot like self-pity.
And I will admit something else... I've been feeling so pissed off by all the testing and doctors and being written off as "fat and old", "menopausal", "have you considered practicing gratitude?" etc. etc.... I want to have some control back. I do things like move my entire studio around (kind of a stupid thing to do when your body is full of pain). I'd been planning to start my own excercise and diet program - totally NOT approved by my nutrionist ("you need to love your body the way it is") - I think of it as my "Aspie Diet". Basically - protein shakes with bananas and greens, and english muffins for food - and treadmill walking, dancing, and hoola hooping for exercise. Sounds simple, but when the pain is radiating from your entire spine... and foot... it's tricky.
I'm going to be practical. I will allow myself to stew in self-pity tonight. Then tomorrow, I will get my daughter a bus ticket to Bangor for next week and accept that I will have a week with no kid or dog - and be "grateful" that I have a whole week alone to work on my illustrations.
But, if anyone is in the area in the next two weeks - I could really use some help!