Selah // Something Witty

No room for victors.

Date: 02.27.18 -- Day 79
Music: "99 Luftballons (Cover)" / Kaleida

Recovery is a pain.

After getting back from an emergency trip to Los Angeles this past weekend, my body has been having fun trying to get out of fight or flight mode. I'm kind of always in fight or flight mode, constantly tapping into that adrenaline reserve to survive the day-to-day, but there was this extra layer I've have to get over. My heart rate has been between 105-120 since Monday. It's weird that I'm getting used to the jumpy feeling in my chest. The doctor said that while high, it's not something to completely worry about until the 150s. My EKG was normal-ish? So no caffeine. Must limit stress (LMAO). Log my vitals three times a day. I can tell you that my bones are exhausted. But my grandmother is not only out of the ICU, she got to go back to the retirement home today. It's a win to hear she was smiling as she settled back into her room. My heart will calm down eventually. That she gets more time at peace makes it worth it.

There are some days though that start just off. Not fully bad, just right of center. The focus on the picture of the day is just a bit swiggy around the frame. This started when sometime last evening I dislocated one of my ribs. It just sorta popped out of place. This happens. I have slippery ribs. It annoys more than pains because it's just vastly inconvenient. Being upright hurts and bending to the right takes my breath away. I had hope that between the rib and the heart rate issue, my wish-washy luck would take pity on me.

I shouldn't have tempted fate that way.

My first mission this morning was to tackle the dishes piling up in my kitchen sink. It was a mistake. I managed to drop one of my favorite cups on my first dish out of the sink, cracked it in half, and sliced open my finger. Needless to say, I stepped away from the dishware for a while. I tripped over the same cord three times, nearly taking myself out on said cord and bashing my head into the wall. It would have been an undignified way to end. It can see it now, my older brothers crying and laughing because their klutz of a sister's own feet ended up being her downfall. (I'm sorry; I had to.)

So today was a day I called it. I walked off the field, put my mitt in the locker, and headed home before the anthem was even played. For everyone's safety, tbh. And I didn't want to end up in the ER for the whole day with whatever mess I inadvertently out myself into. Sometimes you just have set everything aside, crawl back into bed, and hope the next day will be better. Sometimes the best thing is to do nothing.