I"m a wimp

I have been terrible lately at updating my blog - but I claim the excuse that I'm injured and therefore have been spending more time on the couch and less time at the computer and when I AM on the computer, I'm usually a little dopey from my medicine. So, for those of you who haven't heard - I fell UP my stairs - twice, and ended up with "micro-tears" on my tendon, which equals a lot of pain and a major inconvenience to my lifestyle. I had my first ever experience with the legal and morally approved version of torture that I'm told is called "physical therapy". Joe, cruel husband that he is, sat by quietly and watched as some brutal Amazon woman held firey torches to my thigh and jammed spikes into my knee. Ok, so, it was more like an average sized woman, older than my mom, doing stretches and ultrasound therapy - but it felt ugly. Apparently - I was horribly disillusioned to think I have a high pain tolerance. Tears dripped onto the table while I did heel slides; I wimpered my way through the ten repetitions of leg lifts. Ultimately, I discovered that I'm a big baby. And, lest I forget what a spectacular wimp I am - I have to go back and be reminded three times a week.