Listening to the Voices in my Head

You know what's not fun?

Hearing and feeling a thunderclap right over the house when you're taking a shower.   I felt a bit less uncomfortable because I was wearing shower shoes/flip flops/thongs because I was washing my hair, and it makes the shower floor slippery.

Quickest shower ever.

Why do I keep doing this?!

Why?  Because, in the long run, it will be good for me. But right now, today, after seeing Meg, then Simon (exercise and physio therapists) I feel as if I have been dropping in a food processor equipped with blunt blades.

One more time, just for giggles?

I had to uninstall Kindle for PC, reinstall older version, then re-download all my e-books.  Why? Because my kindle reader is an older model, using the awz extention, not the newer kfx extension.  I am all for keeping people from stealing/pirating content, but seriously.

So, once again I have to convince the older version of Kindle files to play nice with my slightly dated Kindle.

Meg is back on the job.

She's recovered from COVID, but still has a bit of brain fog. Told her I fully understand the brain fog.  She might have occasional brain fog (looking at paperwork, knowing she knows what to do, but at the same time confused by it all) but she worked my asterisk off. My butt is so sore. 

And guess what? I get to do it again Monday!

Humor is an excellent way to pass a painful ordeal

I thought Simon the Sadist was a tough physio-therapist. That isn't anything compared to him as an exercise therapist.  As an exercise therapist, he makes you push yourself, but not to the point you cause damage. 

Picture this: while getting ready to do a session on the reformer, of which there are two of them, our typical exchange.

Simon: Ok, we're going to work on the abs today.
Me: Sure, you may proceed.
Simon: Alright, we can both do them.
Me: (looking down at one of the reformers) I don't think we'll both fit.

(I get myself settled and start doing the prescribed exercise)

Simon: How many was that?
Me: I don't know. Keeping count is YOUR job!

(climbing off reformer, and there is NO graceful way of doing so, trust me)

Simon: So, what's you plans for today?
(I make grand hand gesture pointing towards him)
Simon: And the rest of the week?
(repeat first gesture)

He had me do some laps around the place, hold 3kg weights in each hand.

My hand are so sore today, along with the abs running down along the ribs... and my shoulders.  He needs to pad the shoulder stops, because I wear an anti-gravity device (aka bra) and those stops really make the straps dig in.

Exercise Therapy

My ass hurts. That being typed, I can also say I don't have another session on Friday, as Meg tested positive for COVID.  As much as my ass hurts, this stop and go (dare I say) exercise routine leaves much to be desired.

I'm supposed to be going twice a week, but lately it's been once a week. I'm tired of having to start over from almost the beginning. I don't fault Meg for getting sick; life happens.  Do the exercises at home, you say? I can't. I don't have the equipment. I do what I can to mimic them, but without the resistance training devices, I'm at a standstill.

Hey, I didn't request that

Hey Skype; I didn't ask for, request your Bing chat bot, or Skype chat bot to be attached to my Skype account/window. It's bad enough you turned the desktop program into a mobile phone look-a-like. 

Early to bed, Early to rise

Doesn't do a damned thing. 

I went to bed early, because I had an appointment to see my exercise therapist.  I groggily get up, manage to get dressed. Staggered off to get first cup of coffee in the morning. In between sips of coffee, got my hair brushed and braided. Readied by bottle of cold water, and when 8am rolled around, we hit the road.

I get there, and get asked why I am there. I tell the 'receptionist in training' that I have an 8:30am session with Meg.  She said no I didn't. Uhh, I have been seeing Meg on Monday and Friday for the past almost 2 months (exception when it was a Wednesday and Friday, because Monday was a holiday.) 

Now, I had/have the card with the appointment times and dates, but I put them on my phone and left the card on my desk.

We get shown the door. I found out the hard way and stress and agitation fires up the old GERD. I came home. Took  photograph of my appointment card, and emailed it to them. By now, I have chewed two antacid tablets.

2 hours later, I get this weak, wishy-washy excuse that Simon, my physiotherapist deleted the appointment. How he has access my exercise therapists' calendar is beyond me.

So, here I am, trying to stay calm. Even took a short nap. But I am still gritting my teeth. If *I* cancelled an appointment without notifying them, I would get charged some fee. But they can do it to ME and I just have to let it slide.

Bleh

Because of IINETs' shoddy handling of unloading email service, and then with almost no notice, deleted the websites. Why? because their corporate monkeys have decided websites and email has nothing to do with the internet(?)

Regardless, I managed to get the website downloaded. Good thing, too, because my custom mood icons for LiveJournal were being hosted on our IINET website, and I downloaded them.  Then came the fun part of uploading them to another place, and then correcting all 135 links. GAH! It's done.

Had exercise therapy today. Most of the time was on the reformer/pilates machine, under expert supervision. Way back in 2006 when I have a calcified disk collapse, it damaged the nerves in my left leg. It's left some of the muscles flaccid. So, using the reformer 'forces' those flaccid muscles to work. My right leg has an ache in it, but the left leg is only a bit wobbly. No pain in left leg is my silver lining.

Shoe's on the other foot

So to type.

Alan had to have a double hernia repaired. Wing and I have been doing what's needed to take care of him. I have to admit, I am knackered. Had to change his surgical dressings. Ugh. At least the incisions are looking good. But standing at a 45 degree angle to carefully remove and replace 5 dressings was a bit problematical for my back.

Parcel arrived from Amazon. I got a laugh out of "This box is made of less material", when there was another box inside of it. At least the item I ordered was actually in the inner box.  If I had opened yet another box, would have thought I was in an episode of Doctor Who?.