#thug lyfe
Some of you may have seen a commercial urging you to donate money to help children that were “abandoned, hungry, and hurting.” Let me tell you something: they are talking about me.
Let me elaborate.
Okay, so this one time, on Friday, I had to get knee surgery. I know that I have a large following with a particular concern about the state of my joints, so I wanted to share this with you all. Essentially, my knee cap was out of line and so they had to move it back in the right place. While this sounds fairly simple, you also need to know that it entails 6+ weeks of crutches and at least three months of physical therapy. It also means that I am on this drug called “the generic form of Percocet.” For any of you who were around the last time I was on painkillers, I have to share the unfortunate news that I am not nearly as loopy as I was when I had Lortab. I’m mostly just nauseous, which is kind of a disappointment.
Before we get into the whole “what my life is like now that I’m a cripple” story, I think it is pertinent that we first have a short discussion on crutches, for anyone who may be unfamiliar. Everyone has seen crutches before. If you haven’t, you don’t deserve to be reading this. You all know how crutches have some armpit padding and that nice little hand hold and then a little rubber cap at the bottom. So these things are designed to be used when you have an injury on one of your lower extremities. And when one of your legs is out of commission, two crutches are meant to be a substitute. Well, maybe you all don’t realize this, but when you walk, you take all of your weight off of foot A and put it in foot B while you move foot A forward. And vice versa, over and over. So when you have an injury in leg A, you are replacing one of your feet with crutches. That means you are placing all of your weight on foot B while you move your crutches (and foot A) forward. And then, you have to put all of your weight on your crutches while you move foot B forward. But let’s go back to the structure of crutches again. Remember how they had those little rubber caps at the end? They’re about the size of a quarter. That’s what is supposed to be holding my entire weight. They designed these things so that I would have to balance my whole person on two tiny rubber caps. Meanwhile, I am swinging my good leg forward and I have this other leg that I have almost no control over, which weighs approximately 600 pounds, and it’s doing pretty much whatever it wants, because I also have to hold it in the air at the same time. And, I am putting all my weight into these crutches because I have my hands on the little hand holds, holding my entire self up on my extended arms. It’s like I’m an Olympic athlete on the parallel bars. Except with a lot less muscle. And I’m on drugs that make me exhausted and nauseous. And I’m pretty freaking clumsy.
Okay, so now back to me. I’ve just had knee surgery, I’ve thrown up in the parking lot of my apartment complex, I’m drugged up and in pain, and my only way to move is on these crutches, which, as we’ve discovered, were designed to make more of a fool out of someone who probably already made a fool out of herself getting injured. And I’m pretty much completely helpless. Because I forgot to mention the other great thing about crutches, which is that both of your hands are required to use them, so you are incapable of movement if your hands are otherwise occupied. So if you want to carry anything with you, it must be something that you can hold with one or two fingers or between your hand and the crutch, or something that you could put inside a purse or fanny pack that you have with you. That is really limiting. No bowls of soup, no plates of toast, no glasses of water. I am essentially limited to sitting on the couch with whatever my mom has put within my reach. When she’s home, she will bring me some things upon request, but that apparently authorizes her to make any comments she wishes about my being incompetent. But sometimes, my mom isn’t home. And neither are my dad or my sister. And maybe my brother is, but he’s sleeping and completely useless. So sometimes, I am just stranded on the couch. I can get up to go to the bathroom, and I have gained the ability to fill my water bottle on my own, but those things get old really fast. A woman can only go the the bathroom so many times before she gets bored.
It is commonly known that one of the most important duties of people in the medical profession is humiliation, and boy are they good at it. In addition to my crutches, my giant brace and bandages, and the yellow gunk they spattered all over my leg pre-surgery, they have also forbade me from showering until tomorrow. It has been a long time since Friday. I’m greasy and stinky and (TURBO STOP READING) I haven’t shaved my legs or armpits, and they are starting to get pretty hairy.
(TURBO YOU MAY CONTINUE HERE) So I am icky, hurty, and stuck on my living room couch. In one day, I have watched four episodes of Dexter (and finished the season, oh my Jonas that fish is so cray), crocheted a headband, pintrested quite a bit, and watched about 1000 episodes of Criminal Minds. I still have many more crochet projects to complete and some internships to apply for and I might even read a couple of books, so perhaps I will find a way to fill my last three and a half weeks of break sitting on this couch in my living room. But I wanted you all to know how pathetic I am and that abandoned, hungry, hurting children like me are waiting for you to help.
