…recovery slowly (too slowly) continues.
I have returned to work in my office, and driving myself (in my truck) to get there. I am working a full-time day. I thought that perhaps I would try to ease back into the work routine by working part-time work days this week, but a lot of work backed up while I was out after the crash, and it never ends. As long as I don’t have to do much physical labor, I can get through a full day. In fact, I have been so busy that I seldom notice the passage of time and my boss has to remind me that it’s time to go home.
I am able to wear regular “people clothes” though I still have quite a noticeable grapefruit-sized lump on my left leg. That is the residual of the contusion that I had from where my body hit the pavement during the crash. I also have some slight swelling in my left ankle that a doctor told me could take as much as four weeks to resolve. That swelling prevents me from wearing some of my nicer dress boots, such as Luccheses. Lucchese boots are known to have a more narrow instep than most other cowboy boots.
But I am booted! I have several other boots made by Chippewa and Dan Post that I can wear. So fear not, Booted Harleydude is not crossing over to the dark side of flip-flops and sneakers. (I never would degrade myself to such low depths of footwear.)
I admit, though, when I get home from work, I am exhausted. I change into shorts and a t-shirt, and move slowly around our house in socks.
I am trying to do my share of household chores. At least the cooking anyway. My spouse has many, many fine qualities, but cooking is not his thing.
Speaking of the spouse, each day for the last several days, he has tried hard to arrange pillows and the mattress of my bed to accommodate me to be able to sleep on it. He is so very thoughtful and is trying so hard to take care of me.
I take a couple acetaminophen, then conk right out as soon as my head hits the pillow at bedtime. But after about an hour, I wake with discomfort. I try to readjust and it never works. I can’t take more pain meds (nothing else works, and acetaminophen barely works). The discomfort is enough such that I cannot fall asleep. I finally give up and wander back to the LazyBoy recliner in our family room to try to sleep for the remainder of the night.
Oh-dark-30 comes awfully early. Usually in my non-injury-recovery times, I naturally awaken at about 4am every day, including weekends. That’s because I have slept soundly for about 7.5 to 8 hours. But not these days. I am lucky if I am getting about five hours of sleep a night. I have to set an alarm to wake me to get up, dressed, pack my lunch, make the spouse his waffle batter, and make my way to work.
But I remain positive. This too shall pass. It’s just going to take longer than I want it to. I am not a kid any more. Older bodies take longer to heal. But heal I will. After all, I have a spouse and LOLITS to look after, and a family to love.
Life is short: remain positive about recovery.