That is some cool positive advice the Lone Crab gives. My take is that the body needs time to restore energy and wellness. It is hard but looks like accepting things you can not change. Writing about the feeling you are experiencing on bed rest could be a topic to get back writing and doing everything you are not able to do now. Hang in there. Lifting you up in prayer. ((hugs))
My feet swell sometimes. I've had DVT twice in one leg, once in the other. I'm very careful. But yesterday... there was a swollen bruise on my right leg. I pressed it to see how badly swollen. It indented more than 1/2 inch but seems to be okay today. I worry about my poor circulation, scrub my toes with a soft bristle brush, watch discoloration come and go. I probably need new arteries or veins but hey... "Heathcare" USA (enough said?). I may be better off trying something here in Thailand. But still... wish I lived in a country that had adequate patient based healthcare. Thailand and Taiwan mostly do, but I can't access it. First world systems like Europe, Canada and Australia do, but again, I can't access it.
I know I sound bitter.
Hope the knot is minor and discoloration normal. And... hopefully the doctor can come up with a plan that suits you.
As for school... I'm too old unless it's free. I learn a lot by traveling and reading articles on the internet and by talking with people about their experiences. Textbooks have limits.
My feet happen to feel just like that today. I had to go out to a doctor appointment and the post office. It didn't take much to get mine screaming in pain. btw: stepping on a Lego is the worst! You probably already know that.
We buried my first grandson before he had a chance to open his eyes. I'll probably never know the why and I think I've accepted it. My poor Brooklyn, however, is not doing well. Not long after I had her, I was diagnosed with postpartum psychosis. Not taking my bipolar medication during pregnancy really did a number on my brain. Not only did I experience crippling depression, but I honestly thought my newborn hated me because I was such a terrible mother. The abusive boyfriend dropped me at the funny farm and then took me to court for custody. Which he won. Needless to say, I worried about Brooklyn being pregnant and having to go through anything similar. Her first pregnancy was terrifying. Her blood pressure became so high the doctor, fearing for her life, ordered an emergency delivery during her sixth month. Izabella barely weighed three pounds and spent months in ICU with doctors fretting over a brain bleed and other issues. Brooklyn handled it all with a strength I admire. At 21, I lost my marbles when I had a baby. At 18, she blossomed. But this time, she's struggling. Rightly so. There are times when I truly believe I'm cursed. No, the psychosis isn't returning. I've just had a fucked up life. Out of everything I've had to deal with and overcome, this tragedy has nearly broken me for good. There is no worse torture than seeing your child in anguish and helpless to take the pain away.
I've spent the past few weeks splitting my time between my home and hers, trying to stay on top of everything. If only she wasn't three hours away. It took six to get home this weekend. I tried to bring her and Izzy, and even the boyfriend, home with me, but no luck so far. I did bring Izzy home for four days. What a fabulously exhausting time we had together. I'm getting my second vaccine dose tomorrow, so I'm home for the week. I have some health concerns I need to look into too. I'm temporarily closing my contests and excusing myself from other responsibilities. I just need to be still and quiet for the time being. I've had the most peculiar feeling lately. I can't explain it, but my body and mind are screaming for me to pay attention. So that's the plan.
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