![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Mar. 1st, 2016 12:16 pmThe Books By Chance boxes are gone. It’s very strange to have that space in the living room open again. Now I have to finish packing up the stuff I’m shipping out so that we can get it off the dining room table before Wednesday evening. Of course, part of me already wants to start pulling more books to get rid of. I’m going to wait a while, though, at least long enough that going up and down the basement stairs doesn’t set me off coughing.
Cordelia’s class is doing an overnight field trip at the end of March. Cordelia both really wants to go and is scared to go. I can’t do this one with her, so that solution’s not open to us. They’re going to this place to learn about how people live in poorer parts of the world. There’s no drinking water available but what the class will bring in.
My physical therapist and I have planned for two more sessions, one next Thursday and then one, as yet unscheduled, for about four weeks later on. Basically, at this point, it’s a question of me going on with what I’m supposed to be doing. She did say that I might need to keep the massages going several times a day for eighteen months or even longer. I’ll do that, but I’m not thrilled by the idea.
I’m getting frustrated with that big CD set I’ve got from the library. Each CD is in a cardboard sleeve that’s a facsimile of the old vinyl album cover. Unfortunately, that means the print is too tiny for me to read. I don’t know if reading glasses would make a difference, but given that I don’t own any, it’s not really relevant.
My sister called this morning. She’s got 'complex' ovarian cysts on both ovaries. She also found out that, several years ago, our mother had polyps removed from her colon and didn’t bother to tell us. It’s the sort of thing that might well have had our doctors sending us for colonoscopies even sooner. My sister has always been healthy, so she’s having a hard time with all of this stuff, with the idea that her body isn’t always going to do what she wants it to and may actually need special care. She can’t figure out which things are signs of things actually wrong and which things are just bodily trivia. She’s talking to me about it because she figures, as someone with chronic health problems, I will understand and because she’s afraid to talk to anyone else (our mother or her husband) because of the risk of worrying them.
Cordelia’s class is doing an overnight field trip at the end of March. Cordelia both really wants to go and is scared to go. I can’t do this one with her, so that solution’s not open to us. They’re going to this place to learn about how people live in poorer parts of the world. There’s no drinking water available but what the class will bring in.
My physical therapist and I have planned for two more sessions, one next Thursday and then one, as yet unscheduled, for about four weeks later on. Basically, at this point, it’s a question of me going on with what I’m supposed to be doing. She did say that I might need to keep the massages going several times a day for eighteen months or even longer. I’ll do that, but I’m not thrilled by the idea.
I’m getting frustrated with that big CD set I’ve got from the library. Each CD is in a cardboard sleeve that’s a facsimile of the old vinyl album cover. Unfortunately, that means the print is too tiny for me to read. I don’t know if reading glasses would make a difference, but given that I don’t own any, it’s not really relevant.
My sister called this morning. She’s got 'complex' ovarian cysts on both ovaries. She also found out that, several years ago, our mother had polyps removed from her colon and didn’t bother to tell us. It’s the sort of thing that might well have had our doctors sending us for colonoscopies even sooner. My sister has always been healthy, so she’s having a hard time with all of this stuff, with the idea that her body isn’t always going to do what she wants it to and may actually need special care. She can’t figure out which things are signs of things actually wrong and which things are just bodily trivia. She’s talking to me about it because she figures, as someone with chronic health problems, I will understand and because she’s afraid to talk to anyone else (our mother or her husband) because of the risk of worrying them.
