My eyes opened at 5:30 this morning. It was time to rise. My alarm clock/3-year-old goes off: "Trucks, trucks...I wan my trucks." "Okay," I say to myself, "let's roll." So out of bed I go, mindful of the fact that there is a low burn of refered pain in each groin. Staying in bed sounds more than good, but what choice do I have?
It's going to be a day-by-day thing, but at least I have something or someone to keep me busy. And from 5:30 to 7:20 it seems to have gone okay. Breakfast and lunch were made and we even got a bath in. Not bad. The drop off at school is never easy (emotionally, that is), but it seems to have gone okay, too.
The thing I rued most of all about coming in today was telling my bosses of my condition. I sent out an e-mail to both on Friday, as soon as I got the radiographic diagnosis. They were naturally receptive and warm, but as I look at their faces, I'm reminded of the fact that I've seen that look before from when I had experienced my chondromalacia patellae. Oh well, people will simply look the way I look.
The one thing that I'm starting to notice is that, from one day to another, my appetite is ebbing. This is, pretty honestly, a somewhat mortifying prospect. Eating, although I did have a superb breakfast burrito at the Co-op this morning, just doesn't seem very appealling to me.
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