(Mick is incredibly cute but I won't post his picture. I've been hard at work investigating a crazy internet hoax involving a 22 year old stealing pictures from random people and using them to pose as the family of a young cancer patient. Fun stuff.)
Finally good news, you guys! My hip is feeling so much better. Yesterday I vacuumed for the first time since November of 2010 and I practically cried. The pain is 80% better and I only have to use a crutch occasionally. I'm finally feeling like a normal human being again. Six or eight more weeks of rehab (two muscles are still messed up) and I'm turning the page on this whole mess.
Sidenote: (and I am not on drugs, not even painkillers, so this isn't drug induced psychosis) I realized I was destined to have this injury. I tore three muscles off my right hip. My name is TARYN. As in tearing. Last name? Wright. As in right hip. Middle initial? H. It's all there, people, like Lincoln's secretary Kennedy and vice versa.
The sprained ankle is better. You have no idea how much everyone at physical therapy made fun of me for injuring the good leg. It's annoying more than anything else because it swells up, but it doesn't hurt so I win again.
HOW IN THE WORLD DO PEOPLE HAVE FOOT FETISHES? I try not to judge, but I can understand wanting to be an adult baby more than I can liking feet. Ick ick ick.
My dad came for dinner last night. He was sitting on the deck with Cooper and when I looked out I saw this.
He had knocked down a portion of the railing in order to have a better view of the yard. I wanted to get this documented as evidence in my defense when I'm charged with Elder Abuse. So between one deck eating my leg and this deck being desecrated so my dad didn't have to strain his neck, it's time for some major construction to start happening around here.
(Don't worry, I'm not attempting to do it myself. Can you imagine the injury possibilities?)