The sad truth is that I like routine. And I’m a weinie. True, I like to break routine, but only because it changes things up. You can’t do that if you don’t have a routine to start with. In the good, old days–before I broke my leg–I got up in the morning, drank coffee, yakked to my husband a little, and then started writing. I broke for lunch, then wrote some more. Sometimes, (when I’m behind schedule), I’d end up writing most of the day.
Now, my whole life revolves around my leg. No kidding. I have therapy five days a week, usually from 1:00 to 2:00–my prime writing time. When I come home, my leg threatens to divorce me. And I don’t blame it. It’s sore and unhappy, (but it’s getting stronger all the time). It doesn’t care about that. It just hurts. So I spend half an hour propping it up and icing it down. I use my laptop then and try to catch up on e-mails and twitter. At three, I strap on my Dyna-splint and jump in my wheelchair to write some more.
Now, I don’t mind laughing at myself. The Dyna-splint is a devious device that helps you gradually bend your knee more and more. I think they used it in the Medieval Ages for torture, but they’ve modernized it and given it a conscience so it only works for the good of mankind. BUT, to use it, your foot can’t hit the floor. I’m a tall person. I have long legs. I have to put three couch pillows on my wheelchair to make me far enough off the floor for the Dyna-splint to work. I tried four pillows once, but my butt was higher than the arms of my chair, and if I slid sideways, I’d be in big trouble. So I have to make do. I’ve worked up to an hour (three to four), wearing it now. Then I let my leg rest, and I wheel myself out in the kitchen to pester John while he starts supper (I read recipes and he cooks them). Poor John. I’ve turned him into a char maid. He deserves a second Purple Heart. After supper, the splint goes back on from 7:00 to 8:00. Sometimes, I write, but if my leg doesn’t like me, I don’t. More pillows, more “bending.” But it’s all for the greater good. When all of this is over, my leg should work again. That’s what they tell me, and I believe them. I’ve gained a huge respect for therapists. Who else can make you wince and you still love them, because they’re determined to help you? I don’t know if anyone’s better at motivation than they are.
The truth is, I look forward to seeing them most days. I’m so klutzy, and my leg’s so temperamental, therapy is all I go to. I’ve become a recluse. I hope that makes me mysterious, but mostly, it just makes me boring. And it hasn’t helped my wriitng schule either. Hope you guys are having better luck. Happy Writing!
BTW, chapter 10’s up on my webpage. Hope you enjoy it! http://www.judithpostswritingmusings.com/
Judi Lynn 
You’ve certainly had your world turned upside down. I’m pretty much a creature of habit too, but my routine for writing amounts to a few hours on a Sunday afternoon (I hit a little over 3K today. Woot!). I remember doing therapy when I had a herniated disc in my neck…so extreme I thought I’d end up on disability. That was years and years ago and I’m still working full-time (although it does flare up now and then). Point is, therapy was a pain in my butt but it did the trick. You are going to be back to your regular routine before you know it. And just think….you know have a new experience for a book 😀
LikeLiked by 1 person
I don’t think I have the heart to break anyone’s leg in a book. I’d feel too sorry for them. Every time I get whiny, I see someone come for therapy that I wish I could wave a magic wand over and make better. My leg’s a bother, but it’s minor compared to what some people are battling. My friend has back problems, and that’s ongoing. Mine will go away in time. A herniated disc sounds terrible, because it’s painful and it can be recurring. Hope you stay healthy for life! 3,000 words in one day! Way to go!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Recently I’ve been reading about persecutions in different countries, and I think you’ve been tortured enough. Actually, you’re right, your therapists don’t believe in torture–just the healing process. Happy healing!
LikeLiked by 2 people
Thanks! I can’t wait until I can walk again.
LikeLike
Loved talking with you yesterday but came home in pain. Again. Keeping my spirits up by knowing that normal life is ahead. I hope. And pray. And plead.
LikeLike
Whenever I overdo, I pay for it. I loved visiting with you, too, but you might have to take it slow for a while. It’s boring, but safer. I hope your pain eases up fast. And then be nice to yourself for a while. A long while.
LikeLike