But there was knitting on a sock tonight. By me. :-)
The very last linkity ever
3 months ago
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
Knitting
Just a little bit. Just for 20 minutes or so.
But there was knitting on a sock tonight. By me. :-)
But there was knitting on a sock tonight. By me. :-)
Flaws
I like this. Flaws aren't as scary if they're shared.
I'll share one of mine:
I pluck my eyebrows obsessively. I'm afraid of what I'd look like if I let them go...sometimes I think my whole face would be an eyebrow.
And, ahem, I'll share this quote from Janet Barber: "I refuse to think of them as chin hairs. I think of them as stray eyebrows."
Monday, March 16, 2009
I Typed This With Two Hands
Hoorah!
I haven't posted too much lately, and I'd like to say that's because I've been busy, but it's completely the opposite. Nothing to post! I made cupcakes Friday, took them to the parental units Saturday. I've seen a lot of movies I could review... maybe not.
However, news today: I am typing with both my right and left hands. I'm still in the brace, but the strength is returning!
I'm going on a "road trip" this weekend to Louisiana, and I'm hoping to be able to at least hold a double-pointed needle in my left hand by then. Maybe? I probably won't be able to really knit, but I can't imagine a car ride without a sock-in-progress on my lap. I'm thinking I could just hold one, like a security blanket? Is that too strange?
I haven't posted too much lately, and I'd like to say that's because I've been busy, but it's completely the opposite. Nothing to post! I made cupcakes Friday, took them to the parental units Saturday. I've seen a lot of movies I could review... maybe not.
However, news today: I am typing with both my right and left hands. I'm still in the brace, but the strength is returning!
I'm going on a "road trip" this weekend to Louisiana, and I'm hoping to be able to at least hold a double-pointed needle in my left hand by then. Maybe? I probably won't be able to really knit, but I can't imagine a car ride without a sock-in-progress on my lap. I'm thinking I could just hold one, like a security blanket? Is that too strange?
Sunday, March 8, 2009
(Not Really A) Knitting Post
It's nice to be sitting here with only an ace bandage and a brace wrapped around my wrist. However, I'm still as useless as ever (I say this in good spirits).
I knit using the "throw" method, so I thought that maybe I could knit a little bit with my brace. Having one hand makes me really aware of all those little things I used to do without thinking. I'd forgotten how much I do with my left hand when knitting--it's the holding hand, the steady hand, the background hand. An important hand.
So I won't be knitting for a few more weeks (3 in the brace!). However, I'm considering my sewing machine. I think I might be able to run that with a brace... and there's always painting... maybe I'll get a creative post up soon...
(My what a lot of elipses! I think it's time for bed.)
I knit using the "throw" method, so I thought that maybe I could knit a little bit with my brace. Having one hand makes me really aware of all those little things I used to do without thinking. I'd forgotten how much I do with my left hand when knitting--it's the holding hand, the steady hand, the background hand. An important hand.
So I won't be knitting for a few more weeks (3 in the brace!). However, I'm considering my sewing machine. I think I might be able to run that with a brace... and there's always painting... maybe I'll get a creative post up soon...
(My what a lot of elipses! I think it's time for bed.)
Friday, March 6, 2009
I Survive in 26 Steps
My apologies, but I must tackle this in list form.
Oh and by the way, if you don't like medical procedures? Read no further.
How my "date" went:
1. We (Dad and I) arrive 15 minutes early.
2. The receptionist says to have a seat, that it will be 15 minutes. We are waiting on the xray tech.
3. The lights are off in the waiting area; Dad turns them on.
4. We wait an hour.
5. I go back to the back, the doc takes off my cast. I stand over the sink, watching him feel around for the pins.
6. I begin to feel queazy.
7. I am taken to the hallway, given an antiseptic wipe and told to continue wiping off the tips of the pins (my skin is healed over them).
8. I am taken in to a room--I think it was an xray room--and I stand while the doctor takes out a needle and proceeds to dig around in my hand near the pins, numbing me.
9. I realize I am going to pass out. I tell the doctor I need to sit. He says to wait until he is done. The edges go blurry. He is done.
10. I sit down.
11. I looked at my hand. It is bleeding from the shot.
12. I put my head between my knees.
13. I recover.
14. The receptionist, now an assistant, asks me if they are going to take the pins out.
15. I hyperventilate a little bit.
16. I recover.
17. Doc douses my hand in iodine over the sink.
18. We pull the chair over to the xray table. The chair breaks. I get a new one.
19. The xray tech explains to the receptionist how to work the tourniquet.
20. I think I might have a panic attack.
21. I don't.
At this point, I wish someone is there to hold my hand and say, "You're a brave girl!"
22. The receptionist works the tourniquet. The doc cuts me twice, yanks out the pins (this part hurts, even though I'm numb), and pours hydrogen peroxide over everything. I get two little band-aids with Neosporin, a splint, and a wrap over it all.
23. I survive. They even give me water.
24. Dad asks the doc if we did an xray. He says no, that it would just be "more money" and that everything "felt fine."
25. I make an appointment to go back in three weeks.
26. Dad takes me to Pei Wei where I gorge myself on salted edamame.
Two additional thoughts:
a) Maybe this wasn't so much "surgery" as a "procedure," but I still feel that it qualifies.
b) Those pins sure looked like knitting needles--almost exactly like my metal sock dpns, actually.
Oh and by the way, if you don't like medical procedures? Read no further.
How my "date" went:
1. We (Dad and I) arrive 15 minutes early.
2. The receptionist says to have a seat, that it will be 15 minutes. We are waiting on the xray tech.
3. The lights are off in the waiting area; Dad turns them on.
4. We wait an hour.
5. I go back to the back, the doc takes off my cast. I stand over the sink, watching him feel around for the pins.
6. I begin to feel queazy.
7. I am taken to the hallway, given an antiseptic wipe and told to continue wiping off the tips of the pins (my skin is healed over them).
8. I am taken in to a room--I think it was an xray room--and I stand while the doctor takes out a needle and proceeds to dig around in my hand near the pins, numbing me.
9. I realize I am going to pass out. I tell the doctor I need to sit. He says to wait until he is done. The edges go blurry. He is done.
10. I sit down.
11. I looked at my hand. It is bleeding from the shot.
12. I put my head between my knees.
13. I recover.
14. The receptionist, now an assistant, asks me if they are going to take the pins out.
15. I hyperventilate a little bit.
16. I recover.
17. Doc douses my hand in iodine over the sink.
18. We pull the chair over to the xray table. The chair breaks. I get a new one.
19. The xray tech explains to the receptionist how to work the tourniquet.
20. I think I might have a panic attack.
21. I don't.
At this point, I wish someone is there to hold my hand and say, "You're a brave girl!"
22. The receptionist works the tourniquet. The doc cuts me twice, yanks out the pins (this part hurts, even though I'm numb), and pours hydrogen peroxide over everything. I get two little band-aids with Neosporin, a splint, and a wrap over it all.
23. I survive. They even give me water.
24. Dad asks the doc if we did an xray. He says no, that it would just be "more money" and that everything "felt fine."
25. I make an appointment to go back in three weeks.
26. Dad takes me to Pei Wei where I gorge myself on salted edamame.
Two additional thoughts:
a) Maybe this wasn't so much "surgery" as a "procedure," but I still feel that it qualifies.
b) Those pins sure looked like knitting needles--almost exactly like my metal sock dpns, actually.
Date Night
Today is Friday and tonight I have a date -- with my surgeon. Cast removal, pin removal, antibiotics, and pain medication.
Sounds like a great date to me!
Sounds like a great date to me!
Tuesday, March 3, 2009
Arm Drama
The hospital I've been going to for my xrays, surgery, doctor's appointments, etc., was on the news Friday. It closed. Yes, closed. Apparently it's in bankruptcy.
Monday, concerned, I called my doctor's office (his main office is in another city, not at the hospital) and surprised them with the news.
Today, the day they were supposed to take the rest of my cast off, I called again, and was given this response: "You've got to give us some time here." I was polite.
But I'm not feeling polite. I want this thing off my arm! I want my arm back, my wrist back. I want to knit and sew and paint and play tug-of-war with Roxie!
And I'm reminding myself that patience is a virtue. That it's either gut up or give up. So I'm gutting up. At least my arm is still there, under the cast, waiting. I'll get to see it soon.
Monday, concerned, I called my doctor's office (his main office is in another city, not at the hospital) and surprised them with the news.
Today, the day they were supposed to take the rest of my cast off, I called again, and was given this response: "You've got to give us some time here." I was polite.
But I'm not feeling polite. I want this thing off my arm! I want my arm back, my wrist back. I want to knit and sew and paint and play tug-of-war with Roxie!
And I'm reminding myself that patience is a virtue. That it's either gut up or give up. So I'm gutting up. At least my arm is still there, under the cast, waiting. I'll get to see it soon.
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