In Which Poor Decisions are Made

Welcome back readers, gentle and otherwise.

Unfortunately, I don't yet have any tales from the front of the class to share with you. The Denver and Boulder MCAT sessions should start next week, and with them plenty of questions I can't answer. Until then, I figured we may as well catch up.

I have spent the last two weeks on bed rest recovering from a minor surgical procedure (gastroc slide, for all you med types.) This is not my first procedure, so I knew exactly what to expect: the percocet, the doing nothing all day, the tripping over your crutches and falling on your face. After two days of those horrible crutches I forsook all dignity and honor, gave up, and spent the rest of the two weeks crawling through the house. You do what you have to do, and no one ever fell on their face when they were on their hands and knees.

As far as doing nothing goes, I gave iTunes U a run for their money. It started fairly simply: a music course here, a few lectures on Shakespeare there, one class on Ancient Rome, one on Ancient Greece. It got out of hand very quickly. C.S. Lewis and Geography and French and Ancient Israel and Biochemistry and Art History, and Neuro! I probably could have obtained a second degree, albeit a rather eclectic one, with all those classes.

I didn't know it was that easy to fill a hard drive.

So I spent two weeks crocheting, listening to someone in Australia talk about Romulus, and convincing the dog to let me have part of the bed. No horrible complications, no midnight visits to the ER like last time. The PA who took out my stitches said my leg looked great, go home and start walking on it! So I did.

I don't like that walking boot. Put a 3 inch heel on your left foot. Leave your right foot bare. Come back in an hour and tell me if your hips and back hurt. I thought so.

It was so bad that after the first day I chucked the boot with gusto, tied on my sturdiest shoes, and went outside. It was glorious. The weather was beautiful, I played with the dog and the horse, took care of the chickens, cleaned my birds' cages, and watched the leaves fall. That evening I ran outside to see flocks and flocks of sandhill cranes go trumpeting over the house. It was wonderful, it was liberating, I was just as free as them! /inspirationalbackgroundmusic

The next morning I bounced out of bed, ready to do it all over.

Dear sweet holy everloving mother of...!

I'm told that doctors and nurses make the worst patients. If so, I am well on my way to becoming one. I could barely stand, let alone walk. Who'd have thought that stupid boot served any purpose? So here we are again, back to square one. I've spent the past two days with my foot in the air (and the boot on, thankyouverymuch,) and nothing but iTunes U for company. I think it's getting better, but I'm a little nervous that it won't be all the way there before class starts.

Until then, I have learned my lesson, and will not be leaving my bed without that stupid boot, even though it feels like my foot is encased in concrete, and reminds me of Jimmy Hoffa.