Well, it looks like the Weather Pixie down in the lower left corner has skipped town. I would, too, if I were her, because--as I said before--Chicago is a cruel mistress. Today it was almost 70, so I spent nearly the whole afternoon out and about in the neighborhood. It was lovely. But, before I haul out the open-toed shoes (yeah, like that would happen before a major league pedicure appointment), we are scheduled for at least one more snowfall, purportedly this weekend. Dang, people, that is just mean.
So, the other night I was adjusting the ice pack on my shoulder, the hot water bottle on my bicep, and the cat that likes to lie on top of the hot water bottle on my bicep (we aim to redefine "cumbersome" here in this house) when I felt something akin to marbles under my skin. Needless to say, it freaked me out just a bit. When I got to physical therapy today, I asked my therapist about it. "Oh, those, yep, I've been feeling them in there for a few days." Yikes. I have never had a healing process take this long (Monday was my three month "injuverssary"), but I guess I have never been this old before. I'm learning a lot about referral pain. It's like a little poltergeist is scooting around between my neck, shoulder, bicep, tricep, elbow, and even my lower back, playing a really nasty game of hide-and-seek. I am, however, seeing some improvement in my range of motion, so after hitting the wall last week, I am feeling more optimistic. And when I get the bad, stabby pain in my arm, my vision doesn't go black anymore, just a dark indigo blue, and it fades after about 45 seconds, not the full minute or so it was lasting. That's much better!
I am fortunate to have good insurance that is covering most of my expenses, from specialists to x-rays to MRIs to cortisone injections to therapy, but I can't help but think of those who don't have coverage who must suffer horribly from events like mine and much, much worse. It makes me furious when some of our "esteemed" legislators say the words "health care bill" like they the are actually saying "toenail fungus." Yeah, Orange John, I am looking right. at. you. You, too, Cantor. And Bachmann, I see you hiding behind Foxx. Oh, and any senior who, while benefitting from Medicare, speaks of not wanting a healthcare bill shoved down his/her throat, should be ashamed of his/herself. Hypocrisy is not becoming. We gave you Bruce Springsteen for the cover of AARP magazine a few months ago, but we're taking him back. So. There.