Wednesday, December 20, 2006


The Almost-Shortest Day of The Year

I have a friend who watches the "Judge _____________" shows on TV to remind herself that her life could be a lot worse. Instead of watching people squabbling over vapid and dumb issues, she could be on the shows, I guess. I'm not quite sure just what's the difference. If you watch the shows on TV, at least you don't have to be actually interacting with the litigants... I just object to letting them into my head in the first place.

Almost finished another month of being "home-bound," as the physical therapist calls the condition. I said "Shut-in," the P.T. said, no that sounds so bleak. I said when I heard "home-bound" I thought of being wrapped up in ropes and tied to the house. Whatever, another month of this stuff and I should be somewhat mobile. I've become much more agile with a walker than I ever thought I'd find necessary. From one end of the apartment to the other; I've even figured out how to carry things while I'm using it. Right now it's parked next to me, with the "transfer board" (the shaped piece of plywood you're supposed to use as a bridge to slide in and out of a wheelchair) stuck across it and the computer mouse on the board. If I have the mouse at the same level as the keyboard, my shoulder gives me fits.

Beth is working, still, at the horse ranch. Her latest schedule is to hang around the apartment until one or two, and then go to work, coming back after dark. She likes to go out to dinner—and hates cooking—so her idea of me getting out of the house is a run to the restaurant in the winter dark. Unfortunately, that isn't my idea. Distance. I need to see distance—a half-mile, a mile, five miles, twenty miles. When all I look at is close to me, my world closes down, too. When I can look off into the distance, then my heart seems to open up. Up close: closed down. Must have something to do with having spend a lot of time laid up as a kid, a "shut-in"—"home-bound," forgive me...

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