Skip to main content

Five Pound Hell Revisted

OK. Here's my logic...I'm thinking something along the lines of Hey...I have a follow-up visit with the surgeon on Tuesday. That's only three-ish days from now. What harm would it be to take my instant camera and some film over to Jimmy V's for some Christmas in July pix? I mean, I know a few of my friends will be there. It'll be fine. The bag only weighs 3 1/2 lbs and the strap rests comfortably on my left shoulder and doesn't come anywhere near my incision at all.  Everything should be fine.

Right?

And that's pretty much how it happened. So. Re-capping the facts here.

  • Bag weighing three and one-half pounds
  • Shoulder (messenger) bag configuration
  • Left shoulder taking the brunt
  • Strap easily clearing the incision
  • Walk of less than half-mile one way
  • Surgery was 12 days ago
All of that seems like logically I should be fine, right? 

Erm. No.

What the fuck was I thinking?

So...I figured I was in trouble by about the time I hit Jimmy V's. My shoulder, while not sore, per se, was definitely letting me know that three and one-half pounds wasn't the best idea for a prolonged walk. Because...I'm walking slower, you see. Because, you know...limited range of motion. Yeah. 

Again. Not my finest moment.  As soon as I found my friends and we got a table, the bag was off the shoulder. And luckily I was past due for some pain meds, so those were consumed as well. At least my shoulder wouldn't be completely angry with me. Oh..don't get me wrong...I learned my lesson.

And fuck what a lesson. 

Apparently I missed the ABC After School Special where the moral was Just because you think you CAN do something, doesn't mean that you SHOULD.

And I also learned the difference between LIFTING five pounds and CARRYING any weight for a given amount of time. Not the same at all. Because I would swear that shit gets heavier the longer you carry it. 

And by the time I was done this evening (well, I HAD to go to Dairy Queen and get a Blizzard), I'd be willing to guess I was pretty darn close to the five pound limit. 

Other than that (Mrs. Lincoln, how was the play?), I had a pretty good day. And the time I spent Uptown (Westerville doesn't have a downtown, I don't really care what you think--there's Uptown and then there's the rest of Westerville) outweighed the time I spent in the apartment today, so it was a pretty good day I'd say. I'm pretty sure I'm going to sleep well tonight. 

I'm also sure that I need to A)either get a good back pack for everyday work stuff or B) get a bag that's a roller bag. Because this whole weight limit thing is no joke. My hope is that I'm progressing so well on the healing that the weight limit will bump up a bit from five pounds (hoping for 15 or 25). And hopefully there won't be a need for any Physical Therapy.

I can see now why so many people (and some I'm related to) screw the pooch on recovery and wind up complicating things. The thing causing the chronic pain has been addressed. So the pain I'm feeling now is the pain of healing. Of my body getting over the fact that someone was inside of it doing shit that it wasn't really meant to accommodate. And the pain meds deal with that. And everything starts to feel better. WAY the fuck better.  So...the logic is, if I'm feeling better, then I must BE better. When in reality that's not necessarily the case. Oh--I know I'm going to be better. I have no doubt of that. But today was a subtle (not really) way of reminding me that my body still needs time to heal. 

On the plus side...the soreness in my throat is almost completely gone. It will soon be a memory (hopefully one I'll forget very soon). 

All in all, I would say life is pretty fucking good and I'm very blessed. And...I get to go bag shopping Monday or Tuesday. So...it's really win-win. Yeah...I know. It doesn't take much to make me happy.

Alright...gonna call it a night here very soon.

Peace out my friends
-AT

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Out of Sorts

Not sure what my deal is today. I got up this morning to go for a walk and it was spitting rain, but no biggie. My thriftstore Nikes were kind of hurting my feet, so that didn't help. But it felt good to go for the walk (other than the hurting feet). And it's all going well...and then I get into work and just turn into PMS-Man.  I don't know what my deal is. I just feel bitchy this morning and I'm not sure why. So..um. Yeah. That's all I got.

Marriage Material??

I had a friend call me today, fuming. I consider myself a good listener on most days. Considering that I was out of town on a work trip and doing absolutely nothing in my hotel room, my listening game was on-point.

She recounted the exchange that sent her off. I will spare you some of the more personal details, but the gist was, at one point, the dude-bro she was talking to flat out told her that she wasn’t marriage material.

Torn between wanting to be a supportive friend and being completely gobsmacked, I felt her frustration. No. That’s not quite right. I didn’t feel the same frustration she felt. I’m approaching what some consider middle age. I’m white. I’m primarily interested in women. Oh, and I have a penis. So...no, I can never truly feel the same frustration she was feeling. Or an anger that comes from the same place her anger came from. No matter how in touch I am witn my feminine side (whatever the fuck that actually means).

Instead, the frustration and anger I was feeling w…

A Tribute to Limozeen

So...you may recall that I recently got my very first P.O.S. Electric Guitar back. And you may also recall the folly with the "amp" from Freecycle.

And now, dear readers, I will let you in on the dramatic conclusion to those harrowing tales.

From Bob at work I recently got a Vox Pathfinder 15amp which looks a little (exactly) like this:
I have to say, the amp freakin' rocks. It's got built in tremelo, and this killer overdrive feature which makes the thing sound crunchy as all get out.

So tonight, I decided to try it all out. The amp, the POS Guitar, the FAB distortion pedal (purchased the day of the Sam Ash incident), the Alesis drum machine and the Alesis io2.

The results are just...well, funny.

I give you the theme song to the soon to be hit WB-Series, "My 'Tard Husband." I call it "shortbus." Take a listen here. It's about 3MB in size and 4:14 of unbearable cheese (and the guitars get markedly louder at about the minute mark-you've been …