Confessions of a Not-So-Superwoman

Thank you all for the solicitous & sympathetic wishes sent my way this past week; I am healing- slower than I would like, but probably quicker than is warranted, given the type of injury & my inability to remember for the umpteenth time that I cannot move my arm “like that” just yet. The bruising has faded considerably- instead of resembling a psychedelic Easter egg, my arm now looks like it just needs a good scrubbing after working in the garden. My normal range of motion was roughly 150°, & a day after falling it was about 50°; I can now bend it about 95° without pain, though lifting things is still a challenge.

Being a functional invalid has its perks as well as some disadvantages- & not just for me. Sam finally passed his written driver’s test (it took 3 tries & he ended up missing the max allowed- kept second guessing himself), so he is now the proud holder of a California Learner’s Permit. This is a new experience for me (someday, I’ll tell you about Jessica’s “shortcut” to her license- I have yet to drive in a car with her :-p), but those of you who have traveled this road will be familiar with the drill: anytime we need to go somewhere, anytime I pick up my keys to unlock the shed, anytime time I even walk by the basket containing my keys or near the front door, he jumps up & cries “I’ll drive!” Fortunately for Sam, I am perfectly content for him to be my chauffer- I learned quickly that reaching back to put on my seatbelt is one of those automatic movements that makes my elbow scream.

Here are a few of the things I’ve learned during my tenure as a one-armed woman:

 

1.  There are many concerned, well-meaning, nosy people in my life

2.  Yes, I can get tired of talking about myself (at least in regards to being injured)

3.  I am responsible for entirely too much lifting & toting in my very white collar job

4.  Getting dressed employs more flexibility, muscle groups, & force than expected

5.  Putting an Ace bandage on your own arm is virtually impossible

6.  When the doctor says I shouldn’t lift anything over 5 pounds, he is correct (as witnessed by the lump on Dahlia’s head)

7.  Cats make very efficient (& forgiving) heating pads

8.  There is a limit to the number of items my husband will return for on one trip up or down the stairs (three)

9.     My son is very secure in his masculinity- he carried my pink & white backpack, with the huge “American Princess” patch on it, all over DC without batting an eye

 

Pampering is all well & good, but I am ready to get my routine back to normal; this is my weekend at Ravenswood (I still owe you all the second installment *sigh*) & I've been invited to an all-day scrapbook crop event on Saturday (I’ve got to make a dent in that stack of pictures). Independence is calling!