Wicked Cool Bruise

I want someone to come and take me for a walk. I hate sitting in the house for this long, even with the time compression of narcotics (excuse me . . . pain moderation, get it right). Today did fly by with the napping. There was intensive napping.

There was so much napping that I'm not sure how work is going to go on Wednesday . . . I tried a pain moderation free day today, which I thought would help with the dizziness. Turns out that I'm now still dizzy AND in pain, so that is just not going to work. We'll see what the doctor says tomorrow. My mother doesn't want me to go back until next week (or the week after) . . . and she made some good arguments: Schools are germ factories, I come into contact with way more people than in a usual office job, students are highly unpredictable and prone to bonking your nose, if I get an infection, it's really close to my brain, etc. But then the good arguements, and the momness of it, all made me cranky. I can't go to school if I'm still bleeding . . . I think that will be the rule for now.

The splints might be taken out tomorrow. I made the mistake (again talking to my mother) of looking up what the splints looked like on the internet and tomorrow will be a TWO pain moderation pill day for sure. My father is coming to take me to the doctor.

So this is what sucks . . . usually I don't mind being alone because if I don't want to be alone anymore I'll go to Target or Starbucks or the mall. But in experiencing the shopping trip of yesterday . . . I really did almost fall over. I had to stop and rest several times. I really HAD to hold on to the cart. So now I'm afraid to go out and about. I would love to go for a walk, just to move, but I'm afraid that I'll get halfway and have to stop, or worse . . . I'll just fall over. I'm also afraid that I'll make the bleeding worse and the goal is to STOP bleeding. Gotta stop with all the bleeding.

So I'm stuck in my house . . . full of bloody tissues and television is sooo dumb and the internet is full of scary stuff, like what the pieces of plastic in my nose look like and I can't focus enough to read anything but Martha Stewart and I'm done with knitting, plus it isn't a good gift if you've bled on it.

Okay, focus on the positive . . . I have a wicked cool bruise on my hand and I'll maybe get a copy of my CAT scans tomorrow. Oh, and I can sorta smell vanilla lotion . . . a little bit.

And you guys say I never look at the bright side.