Eeyore, when all things are considered, is a sad and pathetic creature. The fact that Optimus Prime is his alter-ego does little to bolster my opinion of the sad, gray donkey. I always saw myself as more of a Piglet, always wishing to be more like Pooh. Oh, to posses the level of optimism that accompanies blissful ignorance.
I know, you want to know where the heck I plan on going with this. Well, while on my best day I might be a Piglet, here recently I've been very much an Eeyore. Case in point, check the time stamp on this blog posting. It will probably say something like 3:45am. That's if my hand doesn't cramp up from typing an entire blog on a cell phone. Winner.
This all started when I blew out my knee. Yes, the main reason I haven't posted in the last three months is because I tore my ACL skiing. Most people feel bad for me, but not me, I just feel completely embarassed. I'm supposed to be the one that knows how to ski, yet I was falling more than my husband who was only skiing for the second time in his life. People ask what run I was on when it happened then get this funny look on their face when I say Ute. Isn't that an easy one? Why yes, yes it is. And the reason my ACL completely disintegrated? Well, some say it's because of the deep powder and that my feet/skis went one way and the rest of me went another, others blame the skis for not coming off like they were supposed to, but I know the truth: it's because I'm so damn out of shape. You have to be in relatively decent physical condition to not get injured while skiing. I could pretend all I wanted when the snow was hard packed and I was doing a decent job digging in just using my extra weight, but I saw all these red flags start popping up everywhere when I fell 20ft into the first run the last time we went. Sirens started blaring in my head and warning signals flashed "You're Gonna Die!" in bright neon lights, but I spent a crap ton of money that day so I was going to make the most of it. One (partial) run, a ride down the mountain on a ski patrol sled, a trip to the ER, and an MRI later and I was a full-fledged handicap. No ACL left, tore my miniscus, cracked the head of my tibia, and had a bone bruise so deep I could practically feel it in my ankle. Apparently, after the first couple of falls, my lame, lazy, out of shape muscles just said, "Screw it! Every ligament for themselves!"
So long story short, that was February 29th and I still have an elephant knee. It won't straighten, it won't bend, and I can't walk on it for more than five minutes before my muscles start to feel like Jell-o. I know the doctor said that it would be six months or longer before I was back to normal, but I need to be normal now. I need to clean my house. I need to cook a healthy dinner for my family. I need to play with my kids. I need to spend quality time with my husband.
While the knee and all the embarrassment that goes along with it is enough, I then had to go and get myself a nasty little flu bug. The kind that nag at you for days, tormenting you by never revealing their true location, just bouncing around from your nose to your throat, becoming an ear ache, then a fever and body aches, then back to the throat again. It was bad enough that I was a gimp but now I have to be disease ridden as well? I'm not sure how much more of this I can stand. While the flu will have to run its course, the knee might just get a hack saw taken to it. My next post may be titled "Me and My Prostetic Leg."
