Happy July 4th, I love America.
Now that I’ve displayed patriotism, I shall talk about other things. Or maybe this day of independence celebrated by exploding things connects to what I’m about to say – because a lot of people drink beer and then light explosives off that are inches from their fingertips on July 4th, and they lose fingers, and I just put some board games away while cleaning and suddenly my finger is in agony and I can’t bend it. I hurt my finger. That’s how it relates. I didn’t blow my finger off with a firework – but I did hurt it… putting away a game.
As I type this out with one hand and contemplate how frequently and easily I hurt myself, and the fact that my foot still throbs because it’s probably broken too, and I woke up this morning with legs cramping and a body saying – Catherine, I hate you, we hate the world, roll back over and go to sleep, I wonder at what point I’ll have to inform the people I love of my injuries. I don’t like informing people of my pain, their reactions are usually very pitying, and pestering, and involve things like telling me to go to the hospital…and asking me things like why I haven’t been to the hospital yet…
So, I made a doctor’s appointment online for a week and a day from now, and I’ll just ward off their comments until then by masking my pain as exhaustion and anti-social behavior… Except I recently wound up with a boyfriend and he really likes to hold my hand, and he might notice me wincing in pain…or take anti-social behavior personally.
I was wondering the first two weeks of this relationship whether dating him was a good idea, because he seemed to like me so much, and I seemed just about perfect and flawless in his eyes, while he’s a normal human being – but now I remember that I’m secretly bound to fall apart at any moment, and him being able to accept that would be a miracle in itself and that – followed with his continued attempts to actually love me and will my good, would pretty much mean I should marry him…
I’m getting ahead of myself though.
Right now all I know is I’m in pain and it sucks, and I don’t wanna let anyone know because then I get treated like an invalid, except by the doctors who are just like “Yep, you broke something, here’s another cast!”, and then send me out the office because all I am is another patient. So then it’s me, in a cast, facing the pitiful faces of those I love and attempting to make them think everything is fine so that they’ll let me continue to live a semblance of a normal life.
Well, it’s a normal life for me…breaking bones.
I’m probably fine, but I needed to vent.
Pray for me dear readers. Prayers work miracles. In fact, thanks for your prayers for my friend with cancer – all her tumors disappeared. Praise be to God!
He’s the reason for my hope, my joy, and also why I don’t like making a huge deal when I hurt myself, because it always gets better.
I do need to go to the doctor though.