I'm Not Dead Yet

About thirteen years ago, in excruciating agony (isn't all agony excruciating?) an MRI diagnosed a herniated disk. I was on bed-rest for a week (one morning was really fun when I couldn't support my weight when I tried to get out of bed), and since then I baby myself when I feel twinges, and I'm generally not too inconvenienced, certainly not enough to have the surgery, which anecdotally as well as statistically is of dubious benefit.

Eight days ago we had glorious weather and I persuaded myself to do some yardwork which I'd somehow glossed over in the fall, clearing leaves from the beds, cutting back dead stuff. After squatting and reaching for an hour or so, I couldn't quite straighten. Yup, my friend, L3-L4. I tried to tough it out (and by that I mean "keep horizontal and not exert myself") but when I awoke in pain, unable to get comfortable enough to sleep, I called in the big guns (and by that I mean "saw the doctor who gave me drugs"). Sadly, the firepower has had only limited efficacy. The pain status has been downgraded from "crippling" to "debilitating".

So if I sit for more than a few minutes I hurt (and I must love you to be sitting here and typing for more than a few minutes). I can stand and cook, and I've done some superb cooking while in this state. Rogan Josh, typically made with lamb, is wonderful with venison. I have a friend who gave me a quarter of a deer. Yes, dead. Yes, dressed. Although I'm not a huge meat-eater, I do enjoy venison, which has the benefits of beef (iron) without the disadvantages (fat and - depending on source - hormones).

What I do instead of sitting and spinning or sitting and knitting or sitting and beading (not to mention sitting and getting my resume in order and considering the future direction of my work life) is lie down and read a book (science fiction, thanks for asking) or play Sudoku or Descender (a tetris variant) and bitch about how bored I am. 

What I'm trying to tell you is that I have nothing to tell you, no progress reports on the sweater that got ripped and is being reknitted (yeah, now which sweater is that??), no photos of brilliant beadwork occasioned by my copious free time, nothing at all, but I'm not dead yet.

But I can dig up something from my personal archives for you.

I bought this agate slice at Paddy's Markets in Sydney on my first visit.