I can't fix you

Drumroll please, the Duchess is BAAAA--

--wait. What's that word that means "back but only occasionally and Em still has to limp around once an hour and make whimpery sounds until likely January because no one's going to be doing physical therapy visits over the holidays"?

Oh, English doesn't have a word for that?

Well, damn.

In the meantime, let me present to you the horror.



The two footrests, while I was in residence, at least, never moved. Other footrests did. At one point we had four separate wheelchairs and ten separate footrests in various spots in the room.



A better close-up. Several of us swear these have to be the original curtains, because no one makes that shade anymore.



And one night, when it was exceptionally cold due to the big bay windows behind said gold curtains, I asked for a blanket...and they brought me one in avocado green.



I rest my case.

Off for walkies.

I am brave, I am bruised, I am who I'm meant to be

Hey, kids? Wanna know what's better than trying to human with a headache that never leaves? I'll tell you--trying to human with that headache and a fractured tibia!

It's...something, I guess.

Right now Em-beyond-the-screen's reality consists of:

1. Trying to put weight on the leg;
2. Trying to move and/or walk on the leg;
3. Trying to put weight on the leg AND walk on the leg.

Thrilling stuph, lemme tell you.

The lack of a computer, where all my graphics live, is also starting to make me twitch. Which also makes the leg hurt.

So...yeah. That's where we are. I am so, so tired of the original 1970s everything here, too. You think I'm kidding, but the curtains are Harvest Gold, the striped wooden seats--one in gold pinstriping with teak-stained wood, the other a wine, gold and black wider-striped affair--that chair looks like cherry wood, and who knows, it might not be staining, but actually teak and cherry wood!

And I don't remember the pattern name--it was something like Sunshine Meadow or Meadow Gold--but it's covering the floor, authentic sheet linoleum.

Don't get me wrong--I want to be here. I want to get stronger. I want to do the work. But everything hurts, and walking feels like knives stabbing my feet, and even laying down is a challenge, because at some point, the leg with the fracture will move, or shift, or muscle fibers will pull....just...Argh.

Or maybe auurrooolllgh... One of those.

But onward through the frogs, or something.