the one where i wallow in it

i am way likely to delete this post when rational thought makes a reappearance; on the other hand, my growing, playful, and just darned whimsy-laden devil-may-care attitude might also win out, in which case i will likely shrug and deny everything.

of course, to shrug implies the possession of shoulders, and as i continue courting the opinions of every medic within a 150 mile radius of the Lone Alp smack-dab in the middle of Tête de Hergé (très décédé, d'ailleurs), the more i am convinced that The Shrug will not figure in my repertoire much longer.


--Opus for Shoulders (5 minutes) by Ruth Eshel.
Performed by Beta Dance Troupe from Haifa, Israel.

today, the fredster and i boogied over to the pain management people.  okay, so i am trying to sound important.  you know, like i actually have "pain management people."  what i *do* have is a wunnerful::wunnerful physician assistant with whom i meet monthly and discuss dogs, cats, ex-fiancés, life partners, the private lives of doctors, fred, the beach, the wunnerful::wunnerful-ness of being a bitch, sarcasm and sarcasm's failures, grandmas, the nature of pain, wii, and, occasionally, the pain of crps, avn, and the completely ape shit nutzoid condition of my infected and defective bones.

that's a lot to cover in just a little bit of time.  amazingly, she also manages to finesse the pharmaceutical management of my pain so that i exit their office with between four to six prescriptions, of which i usually fill two.

i consider her a friend, as she sometimes lets me weep, and does me the enormous favor of just letting me be.

it has been only in the last few months, though, that i've pumped her for insider information on The Shoulder Situation & Escapade.  see, she used to work for the brother of my orthopedic surgeon, as well as once having a position on the ortho floor (that'd be the fifth -- i know it well...) of his preferred hearsepital. oh, and i have deduced a quickie of a romantic relationship with my surgeon's PA.  it's a veritable hornet's nest of interwoven nonsense.

the short version of our october meeting can be read in my swollen red eyes, and this well-worn, well-loved quilt, completed by the memory of sammy nuggled in it to best share his warm commiseration.  i am admonished to take my pain medicines as ordered.  my vainglory is ridiculed, my legs, my arms, my face.

an antique kaleidoscope of broken bits of largely red glass.


--Opus for Shoulders 2 by Ruth Eshel.
Music: Deganit Elyakim. Costumes: Noga Weiss.

i watched fred -- in profile -- as he drove us home -- and knew as well as i know anything these days that i just cannot inflict much more of this on him.

or his beautiful profile.