the perils of casserole-making

Yesterday was awful, and I am blaming it entirely on the casserole-making from Sunday night. OhgreatmotherofGod, who knew that something so simple could cause such a ruckus? In retrospect, it was my own fault-- cooking involves lifting and twisting and all sorts of things that require your spine being whatever the opposite of "neutral" is called. If the final product hadn't been entirely delicious and created nice leftovers for Jan to bring to work, I'd be much angrier. I did however have to rescind my Valium ban yesterday-- but I only took one the whole day. The tapering is absolutely still in effect.

There are several aspects to the broad concept of "recovery" that I've found to be particularly frustrating. For me, specifically, I resent that no one, not even my surgeon himself, can give me any goddamn specifics about anything. Every question is met with some crap about letting comfort be my guide, every patient healing at their own pace, blah-blah-blah. I want benchmarks, schedules, goals-- I tend not to be a black-and-white, cut-and-dry person; I can handle fluidity and spontaneity really well. But in this case, I want some answers-- I want my life back.

So, this fall, I worked on my uncle's campaign for Hamilton County Treasurer, and was introduced to a really exciting community. Because of the cooperative spirit of the Democratic Party in the county, I felt like I had a hand in some really staggering victories. And despite the frenetic pace, despite the outcome of my uncle's campaign, despite the post-election slump (oh, it's unreal), it was the first time in a long while that I had felt so lit up about anything. (The only thing I've ever done comparable to working on a campaign is performing in a play...I had the lead in a play during my freshman year of college, and between 4 hours of rehearsing every night and the pressure/fun of carrying a production-- that's the only thing that can touch the drama of a campaign. And there's the same sense of 'what the hell do I do now?!' afterward. Hmm...maybe I should look into getting back into the stage thing...like between city council elections and the midterms...ok, gotta look into that...) To go from that intensity, to the complete and total lull that was my entire month of January, to the pants-shitting drama and anxiety of surgery, and back to this lull again (with the added benefit of pain, stiffness, and narcotic-induced general ickiness)-- it feels like someone is playing a cruel trick on me.

I know that there's an endpoint that is really not far off...and that in a few weeks, I'll feel more like myself and I'll be able to really get moving again, but this waiting around SUCKS. The very day of my surgery, I was elected Treasurer of the Hamilton County Young Democrats, in absentia. (Big thank-you to Britt Born for the opportunity!) And despite this exciting post, here I sit in Bloomfield Hills, five hours from Hamilton County, doing absolutely nothing of utility to the HCYD or the Dem candidates who are starting their campaigns for city council (hardly a juicy plug but: click here ). From a distance, I'm trying to keep my thumb on the pulse of Cincinnati politics; well, that pulse is quickening and I'm five hours away. Total suckage.

Again, sorry about whining. Lucky to be alive, lucky to have had the outcome I did, lucky to have the family and friends I do, blah-blah-blah...my back fucking hurts, it won't stop, I'm bored out of my mind but I don't to be around anyone except my inner circle. I am antsy but it hurts to move. I want to go to a movie but I can't sit in one of those chairs for 100 minutes. I want to get in my car and take off, but I can't. I want to read my book but I'm all fuzzy from the shit that is actually not doing anything at the moment to ease my pain. Tomorrow, I plan to wake up with new reserves of grace because at the moment I am fresh out-- but my inventory of complaints and childish bitchiness is fully stocked.

In other news, I am officially registered for a 10k walk at the end of May-- my sisters and my BFFs are running a half-marathon attached to the event, and my mom, aunt, and I are walking the 10k. I am looking forward to it-- I am excited for my girls to kick some half-marathon ass, and I know it'll feel good to cross that finish line, even if it's just a 6-mile walk. Just the idea of a benchmark, a goal that's been met, something started and finished-- very appealing.

I think that's about it from here...if anyone reading this blog has any sway with Mother Nature, I'd much obliged if you could work on my behalf to get that woman an f-ing attitude adjustment ASAP. Some sunshine and maybe a temperature above 45 degrees for more than one day-- is that really too much to ask? Come on. Help a sister out.