Yes, it's taken all this time to get the burn wounds healed. Last week, due to the un-unconfinable-in-public nature of two remaining wounds, I was forced on doctor's orders to stay in my house with my, um, bosom exposed to the air. I'll spare you the icky details.
All in all I really have to say that even though I thought I was rather stoic through the whole thing and soldiered on darn well, in truth it was pretty traumatic, all told. The sight of all that bleeding and the not-healing wounds and, yuck, it was just all really yucky and horribly, horribly painful. Plus, I received scant sympathy, save from Metal Ox, who was the most patient and let me tell him those icky details nearly every day -- go figure. And Miss R brought me aloe plants from her house in a lovely pot (Thank you, Miss R!) and tried to get me the book club book for while I was confined. And Scorpie I came over a couple of times and was really sweet and helpful. Once he even did the dishes without me even asking! Wow. And SII was kind and visited, as well, and fetched some organic bottled aloe from C'dale. And the Princess was gracious about missing Elizabeth: The Golden Age, which we were slated to see the very day I did the deed. But the main point is that I don't think I whined or felt sorry for myself hardly at all, and you know what a baby I am when I'm sick. But I got the first throughthemail Get Well Card I've gotten since, I don't know? since I had my tonsils out in 5th grade? Thank you, STLST!
I think I've finally come to a place where i don't really expect someone to leap through the door with a hot toddy and lovely soup every time I don't feel good. Which is progress. I'm sure if I were really practically dying or something someone would show up. But the point is that these days instead of thinking Why isn't so-and-so coming over to help me? I think Now how in the hell am I going to get X and Y done when I can't even put on a shirt? And that is progress. And I'm happy for it. Anyhow, extended visitations were impractical in this instance, given the bosom exposure mandate and all. Of course this is all tied in with being single. Wishing for the gentle, nurturing, manly mate. And acceptance of the beauty of life as it is.
The Dalai Lama was wonderful, of course. But the two redheads do not get along, and they both made their grievances quite clear, such expression first manifesting from the peer-aged redhead. Of course I love the peer-aged redhead, but when push comes to shove I will always adore and protect my lovely daughter. This is the nature of motherness. And frankly, for her 17-year-old self, I thought she was fine, especially considering riding in the back seat for four hours up and four hours back, with not even her own music to listen to and all. Still, I tried to be neutral and not participate in their little girly sniping. Ironic that they chose to be so judgmental of one another on the Dalai Lama trip. Compassion, anyone?
Work is crazy. I wish for a job offer else where. Preferably for more money.
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