Just call me a sloth; I am moving at about the same pace. I truly dislike these hospital-issued crutches. I can't handle them and at the same time carry much of anything else. I finally got the lunch table set yesterday, but it was practically in time for dinner. I'm carrying a bag around my neck with my phone in it and other important stuff. It resembles a horse's nosebag. Trouble is, I can't shove a dinner plate of food into my bag to carry across the room to the table; the interior of the bag would end up a mucky roast-dinner mess. Maybe I really should use it as a nosebag?
I have painful exercises that I am forcing myself to complete every half hour or so. I am ice-packing my knee so often that I'm thinking it would be easier for me to be transported daily to Countdown and sit in their deli freezer. It took me twenty minutes to crawl out of the car outside the physiotherapist's premises because i couldnt bend my leg. And, now, my bedroom lighting -along with my temper - has just blown a fuse!?!**!
Here's a pic of my intrepid hiking buddies - my friend, J, and her personal paparazzo - taken on Saturday just before my fall from hiking glory. I was the photographer -
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