Got back last night from a long weekend up in Maine. Everyone was really nice about helping me out with the crutches, and trying really hard not to leave me out of the activities. I couldn't hike up to Blue Hill or pick blueberries or go canoeing, but there was lots of other stuff I could do just fine. It was embarrassing perching somewhere and having someone lean my crutches against a wall, and then having to ask for someone to fetch them when I wanted to get back up. And I got pretty sore sometimes. The second night I was there I couldn't sleep at all. I finally ended up taking two vicodin, which really messed me up. I hate taking them, but it was the only way to end the suffering and get a little rest.
My scar is turning a dark dark purple. It's not the scar I'll be left with in the end, since a new one will be made when the screws come out (which I'm going to be awake for I think, and am seriously NOT looking forward to), but it's still a little scary that it's turning so dark. It hasn't been exposed to the sun at all. Hrm.
I'm addicted to the very worst show ever to be broadcast on TV. Paradise Hotel. I'm so ashamed. Damn this damn hip making me search for any form of distraction, no matter what level of trashiness it exudes.
Anyway. I'm really proud of myself for going up to Maine with a bunch of people that I used to be afraid of and now really enjoy being around. It's a big deal for me, being social when I have every excuse not to. I just wish the boy could have come with me. I was pretty lonely sometimes.
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