Watching the Leaves Fall

     So as of right now, I am out of class/work for at least another two and a half weeks.  Except for my online courses that begin next week, that is.  My knee is definitely healing much better this time post surgery than it did over two years ago.  The odd thing is this time the damage was much more extensive.  I survived (barely) my first physical therapy session yesterday morning and the only thing that didn't hurt was my knee--that began to hurt much later in the day.  It may have been from the PT itself, or a series of cold fronts coming through the area, if not both.  

     Last time, I had 4 weeks notice before my surgery and not only made sure all of my work was completed, but was 2 weeks ahead in the work so that I may focus on recovery.  Other than sitting here bored on the couch for the first 2 weeks, I used the time to catch up on my reading.  That is, until my mother ended up hospitalized and an already complicated recovery became moreso.  This time, she's feeling much healthier than she has in ages, one of my best friends came in for the month to help out, and I have a ton of schoolwork to not just catch up on, remain current on, and a paper to rewrite since MS Word's latest update seems to have wiped out the last 2 papers I wrote.  So what am I doing?  Reading books completely unrelated to my schoolwork, playing games on Facebook, and just about everything BUT my homework.  Even on pretty strong pain medications, the reading isn't too difficult.  It's the note-taking and powerpoint reviews that require a bit more focus.  But my text book, syllabus, notebook, highlighters, and pen still sit on my makeshift desk next to the couch, relatively untouched.  Go figure.  

      I shouldn't say I've been stuck on the couch the WHOLE time.  My mother and I did go out Thursday night to a book signing for meteorologist Bill Evan's latest novel Dry Ice, listened to him lecture, joke, and shamelessly promote his latest novel as well as three others he's had published.  I've been watching him give weather reports every morning for years, so it was definitely a positive experience to meet the man who invades my television set every morning as I keep an eye on weather and traffic (most of the time, the news itself sucks--op ed, strange but amusing, and if something is happening, ceaseless, repetitive coverage seems to be the norm on all stations lately.  In this case, it's the Wall Street Protests and the trial of Michael Jackson's doctor. 

     What I was surprised was just how rude some people can be.  I'm far from a tiny person and I'm on crutches.  The part of the building the signing was held in wasn't the largest area by far, but if people just showed a little bit of courtesy, it would have been nice.  My mother and I were lucky enough to get seats on one of two antique couches, so that I can stretch my leg out for comfort.  A young student decided to join us on the couch with no regard to personal space or anyone else around him.  I literally had to maneuver my crutches over his legs and bag to keep from falling to the floor because a series of "excuse me's" had no effect on this young man.  Even when returning to our seats after meeting Mr. Evans, he wasn't moving.  He started to give my mother a dirty look when she picked up his bag to move it out of my way until one of my crutches "accidentally" ended up on his toes.  Maybe he'll learn some manners next time, but it's doubtful.  He sat through he brief lecture with his laptop on, earbuds in, surfing videos on YouTube while periodically checking his Facebook.  Then came time for the signing itself.  I understand for those who watch Mr. Evans on a daily basis to be excited to meet him and there's always that small group of people who try to rush to the front of the line, but I was being jostled around as they jockeyed for position.  I admit to being a bit irritated at the sheer rudeness of that small group, but did begin to lose my temper when an overweight, middle aged man literally shoved me into a wall to get a closer view of the meteorologist.  (He had no intentions of being at the front of the line, but instead wanted a great view of the signing while he waited to go last, as to hopefully have a full conversation with Mr. Evans about another anchor on the station).  I shouldn't be surprised at the selfishness and rudeness of others, but the older I get, the more I try to see the good in people in general.  

     I'm hoping to attend a lecture tomorrow on campus about the history of race and human relations in America being presented by a well-known sociologist, but again, it depends how my knee is feeling.  I have no desire to overextend myself too quickly and end up doing more harm than good, even if it does appear to be doing a bit better every day.  

     I just can't wait when I no longer need crutches and hopefully can run again.  But for now, it's physical therapy, stretching, upper body workouts, and then begin by walking the dog as I build up to be able to run--even if it is just once more.  It's probably the one thing I miss the most (other than working on cars) since I got sick.  There is nothing more stress relieving than putting the headphones on, turning up the music, and just disappearing into what seems like nothingness while working off energy and stress. 

Stuck Inside on a Beautiful Day.

      So it's still technically Sunday, four days after my knee surgery, and I'm still here.  Kind of.  For months I've been hoping for a day off or two to just lay around and do nothing.  Be careful what you ask for.  Four days on the couch and I feel like I'm going out of my mind.  I realized why I've been keeping myself so busy, even if it's just arranging and re-arranging my desk--I don't want to think.  I've been given more than enough to think about and deal with lately and I've done a pretty damn good job of avoiding dealing with any of it.  Unless, of course, you count plenty of anti-anxiety medication, fits of tears, and temper tantrums.  

     Naturally, just when I think things might reach a plateau, or at the very least, remain in the state restless, unknown chaos, I'm proved wrong.  I found out this week that not only my uncle, but one of my great aunts died.  With all the illness and injury in my family, my mother brought up the thought--death always comes in threes.  I'm trying not to think about that.  

     And I'm still angry and hurt.  Two years ago when I first needed knee surgery, it was a chaotic rush to find someone to be able to take me to and from the hospital (it's a same day type deal).  My mother can't drive and my father claimed he couldn't get the day off of work (but he could for a hangover, a day to go ride on his motorcycle, go hunting... the list goes on).  He even tried to pawn me off on a neighbor's unreliable teenage kid.  This kid can't even be relied on to show up for PAID work and I was supposed to rely on him to be there for me as a chauffeur?  Not to mention I wasn't going to be anywhere near my best--drugged out of my mind, wearing sweats, and God only knows what kind of mood I was going to be in after.  Thankfully, my surgery was scheduled early enough that my sister-in-law was able to help me.  That was until the OR started running 2 hours behind and she had to leave to pick her children up from school.  Enter my father--at least he showed up to pick my mother and I up.  This time, I was scheduled early enough in the morning that I had a few options if one of my best friends was unable to make it in for the month to help, but it meant that because of my mother's appointment that morning, she would be unable to be at the hospital.  At least my dad took care of that and was supposed to go to the pharmacy for me to fill my pain medication.  But once again, he wasn't there.  He was too tired, so decided to go do some work.  Nothing that was an emergency, nothing that required any real thought, but gone just the same.  Yeah, thanks.  

     I guess what hurts the most and makes me so angry is he is a parent.  It's easy to make a child, but it shouldn't be an option whether or not you are a part of your child's life regardless of how old they are.  I grew up idolizing this man--his attitude towards things, how easily he could look at a set of written directions and build whatever it was.  How good he was at math (not quite my strongest suit.  I can do calculus, but give me a word problem and you may as well be asking me to learn a new language in 5 minutes).  How I wanted to be just like him, including being a mechanic.  I did become a mechanic until I got too sick, but the only thing he said when I made my choice "public" was how he knew I could not only do the job, but do it very well, if not the best.  He knew I could handle the bullshit that came with being a female mechanic, but didn't want me to wake up at 40 years old and in pain from beating the crap out of myself for decades.  I could be the best in the field with nothing to show for it but serious arthritis.  Other than my mother, he was the only other person who stood behind my decision.  

     That was the man I knew.  I don't know who he is now.  Except someone who technically holds the biological title of "father," but I can't remember the last time he was there when I needed him.  Instead, I'm left with everything to do that he's supposed to in addition to putting my life together again.  God, I need to be able to get off this couch...

And the Leaves are Falling

    It's no secret that I've been stressed out and pushed to my limits lately.  One of my best friends will be here tomorrow for about a month to help me after another knee surgery in just under 2 days from now.  My days start early, they end late, and I feel like I'm in constant motion taking care of one thing or another.  A lot has happened in the past month that would probably drive anyone past their breaking point, but I'm still here and I'm still standing.  (sort of, considering my knee)  I have also learned some very valuable lessons when it comes to who is in my life and who no longer is.  

     I'm glad to have begun the process of mending fences with some family members with whom a series of simple misunderstandings have led to arguing, more stress, pain, and alienation.  It's no secret in life that you learn very quickly when things go very wrong who your true friends are.  I always seemed to have a knack of choosing the wrong people overall to be in my life.  The kind of people that as long as you're doing what they want, like, act, etc. they act like they're your closest friends.  The moment you step outside their lines, you become an outcast at best, an enemy at worst.  Over the past few years I like to think that I have gotten better at it and I have.  Now the past month or so, I have made my circle of friends even smaller.  No one is perfect and everyone makes mistakes.  I am certainly no exception.  Given what's been going on (most of which is not my tale to tell), I made an incorrect assumption about a situation and got angry at someone.  I said some things that I shouldn't have said (who hasn't?) and when I realized my mistake, I admitted it and apologized.  I was greeted with silence.  Technically, I don't exist to this person anymore.  It's not the first time this has happened, but the difference now is I just don't care.  I screwed up, owned up to it, apologized, tried to make up for it, and was met with a "fuck her."  I have some amazing friends in my life, so finding out that one I thought was isn't just makes my life that much simpler.  I won't pretend it doesn't hurt.  Anytime you trust someone and discover that you're that disposable in their life hurts.  

      Another so-called "friend" seems to see fit to gossip about things he/she not only knows almost nothing about, but is absolutely none of his/her business in the first place.  Small towns tend to breed small minds and big mouths.  Again, even though it hurts, I'm relieved to know who is worth my time and energy in life.  As painful as these lessons can be, the bright side is you learn who is worth your trust and time and who isn't.  I would be happier having 3 people who are true friends than 300 that I can't trust, or the kind of person who does nothing but try to keep you down in order to make yourself feel better.  I am who I am, will always be, will never pretend to be something I'm not in order to "fit in."  If you don't like that, that's fine by me.  I can devote my energy and heart to those who really deserve it, so when you think about it that way--they're actually doing me a favor.