Someone is messing with me. I say that because every time I think the worst has happened, it turns out to be more or less okay. All I have to do is wait. Time passes and Iím off one crisis and moving inexorably toward the next one. Youíd think, after all these years, Iíd learn. I should just take things as they come and know that it will all be different (better, or worse, but different) in the blink of an eye. But Iím not wired to think that way.
This time it was the wrist. Again. Last night I was in so much pain that I wore the wrist brace to bed. All I wanted was to immobilize the wrist as much as possible, so that I wouldnít accidentally twist it in the night. Even so, I couldnít find a comfortable position, because the pain kept showing up in my elbow, and then in my shoulder, depending on how I was trying to arrange the aching limb. I didnít sleep well, and the wrist felt only a little better when I got up this morning.
Then, only a few hours into my day, everything was fine again. I couldnít feel the pain that had kept me awake in the night, and I could do things without hurting, the same things I couldnít even contemplate yesterday. Last night I couldnít do anything that took two hands, which made chopping vegetables an adventure all its own. Today the only thing holding me back is the memory of what I went through such a short time ago. But after a difficult start, Iím having a pretty much normal Sunday. And thank goodness for that.