Hey people. Since I last checked in I've gotten much better. Check out the ultra comfy leg warmers my sis knitted for me. I love the colors!
Here is me getting some training on a new machine the city got for helping with trailwork. This was about a week ago (about halfway through my recovery period). I felt kind of intimidated, because the other park's crew was there too, so it was all these guys, only a couple from my crew, and me, and they all seemed to automatically know exactly what the trainer was talking about while I was madly concentrating trying to override the "crap! crap! crap!" tape playing inside my head.
Anyway, I was able to let all the mysterious words like "zerks", and "glow plugs" float by me like math, and just try to watch and learn. It went okay, but I didn't like feeling so stupid. It made me kind of mad at myself, or disappointed that I didn't feel as confident as I'd have liked. But it was a new thing out of my comfort zone, so being supremely confident despite that would probably make me... a guy??? Not sure.
What I am sure about is how I feel when I get to be back in my happy place-- the woods! I finally became stable enough feeling to be able to get a couple good hikes in a day with my walking sticks. If you've never tried these, I know it sounds weird, but using them, the motion of your arms with them, boosts your hiking cardio level by about 40% (supposedly). All I know is I get a lot more winded using them, and since I'm not supposed to run yet, this helps.
One of the tree species dropped tiny little red flowers, or something. Whatever they are they looked pretty.
I think I normally act very self-sufficient and have always been super independent; that's what I put out there, but something about having an 8" incision cut through my abs, then shot with compressed air so I inflated like a blow fish, stuff taken out, and sewed back up again has made me feel kind of like I want to be babied a bit.
I want to have my cake and eat it too. I want to be able to do whatever I want, and not be questioned or reprimanded about it, but then I also want, when it strikes me, to be patted and coddled and told it will all be okay and "poor little sue" and be treated like the delicate flower I am. ~bink~ Stupid right? I know. It's really dumb. But that is how I felt last week a lot.
Look-- moss! I stopped and pushed my hand into it. I can't even explain how good that felt. :) Carry on. Whine-fest is concluded.