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Tuesday, August 17, 2004

The trouble with feeling better so quickly is that you forget how fast things can go in the other direction. Every time I break my little finger (and I've lost count by now), I make it worse when I dig into my pocket for my keys. As soon as it starts to heal, I forget — but not for long. Yowch!

Somehow today I woke up with the pain in my back/hip/leg (it's hard to pinpoint it) at about half the level it was yesterday. That's not to say it didn't hurt, but at least I could walk almost normally and it didn't become unbearable every time I moved. Instead of hot iron rods, it now felt more like this morning's bad sunburn, when you step into tonight's hot shower.

This was a better day than yesterday, and I managed to keep working at my usual slow but steady pace, interrupted only by the necessities of nature. The biggest problem was that those necessities had their own agenda today. It started last night, and the intestinal distress was my constant companion all night and all day. Maybe it made the other pain seem not so bad.

I'm still taking pain meds and using an ice pack. And I'm still hopeful that tomorrow will be a better day. All week I've turned down invitations I wanted to accept. I can't let my physical condition take over my life to that extent. Maybe one day I'll have to, but I'll be fighting it all the way.

17 August 2004

August clouds over my garden.

No less than three people (to all of whom I'm grateful) have diagnosed me with sciatica. I've had some wonderful suggestions, and I'm grateful for those as well. I'll let you know which ones work for me, after I've given them a chance. Back in the pre-Internet days, I would have suffered in (relative) silence, not knowing what to do. And yet, as you probably know, I still wouldn't have called the doctor until something fell off.

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