This was a particularly crud day, which ended with me trying to cheer myself up by telling Linda I was going to go dating next week with another woman. Which wasn’t too surprising since I had woken her up a few days earlier to ask her how she would feel if I started dating again. More on that later.
But after a week of constant pain and loss of function for my right arm, I started this morning at the Physiotherapist. She told me that I have tendonitis in my right shoulder which will take six weeks to heal and that I should not wheel up any hills (right). I asked her about boxing on Thursday but she had this funny face and started laughing. Then she did some laser to my shoulder and told me I had to do this particular position I call the “high beam” – because you pull your shoulders back which throws your breasts into high profile. It is best done with a low cut top and lettering across your boobs “Why look at my face?” Apparently it’s not slutty, but therapeutic and prescribed for me. I negotiated with the PT to ‘fix me’ before the end of the month because I have been looking forward all summer to doing the Breast Cancer 5K. My previous PT said it was impossible for me to do it; I think she might have meant “impossible to do and not damage yourself” which for someone like me is not actually the same phrase. I am doing that 5K.
As the day wore on, I realized the implications of having this bum shoulder. 1) Not able to wheel any distances or uphill 2) Probably shouldn’t be using my wheelchair hand-cycle 3) have to drop out of boxing, which with its three week break means it is has been a month since I have had any human interaction 4) Still in pain 5) Have to have someone push and hold my shoulders down several times a day and 6) have to buy a left handed mouse for the computer. On the upside: high beams.
Oh yeah, plus I have to go to a PT who specializes in Neuro patients and that is $50 a week I don’t have. I say “I” but really that is Linda who has to pay. Nothing like the guilt of someone else having a harder life because I am still alive.
Then the Red Cross sent a letter at noon saying they want some of the equipment they loaned us back (the equipment we can’t afford to buy). Linda spends 1/3 of her earnings on keeping me breathing, mobile and out of pain. Quite honestly, knowing she could get a buy a condo with that money, I can’t really see how I compare – I don’t have equity, or strip lighting or sea views.
Yet somehow by evening I decided that I would spend my bi-week “allowance” by going on dates set up by OKCupid (which I was subscribed to before Zephyr, by the way – it is just I kept getting set up with lesbian necrophiliacs). To make sense of that last sentence, there is Zephyr over in Vancouver who has like four regular sexual partners and STILL goes on first dates. I don’t know where she gets her energy. So I woke up Linda last week at 2 am and asked her if she wanted a “polymophorious relationship?” (probably a late night made-up word)
“What’s that?” She asked groggily.
“I think it means we get to go dating other people: which you do anyway with your starbuck’s dates.”
“Those are ‘work meetings’” she said.
Yeah, I thought to myself, just like she had love e-mails from that Spanish tutor in the UK which she ‘claimed’ was a joke as he was gay.
Anyway, I asked her how she would feel if I asked her for some more money so I can go dating while she is off doing overtime at work. She gave the ‘the look.’
“That’s a no?” She gave me the ‘other’ look. Suck!
I’m just lonely. As I pointed out with her, she doesn’t have to worry since the last guy who was interested in me we threatened with a restraining order (truth!). And since I have some very big trust issues, the likelihood of my allowing someone to touch me is pretty slim. She laughed, agreed, and said no.
I think the dating has stuck in my mind to ward off the prospect of spending six more weeks alone in a house where the only people I see are home care workers. Home care workers have an odd view of the world, the one today talked about working for a ‘young guy” (who is 64!). Plus, to add insult to injury my Recreation PT called me to tell me she is back from vacation and wants to meet next week to ‘plan your activities for the fall.’ I don’t get it – exactly how many meetings do I need to have for her to actually, you know, organize for me to do something or meet someone other than her. Anyway, she doesn’t interest me date wise.
If you want to go on a “play date” or “work meeting” or whatever Linda calls them (what kind of “work meeting” have you heard of where you go on a walk in the woods? Or eat donuts together? Or go to Starbucks? Or out to lunch?) We can go dutch! Here are my basic requirements:
1) Probably female (or a male with minimal ‘creepy’ vibes).
2) Must not say stupid things about people with disabilities or in pain.
3) Advantageous if you don’t PMS the same day as me – unless you are the horny type of PMS gal.
4) Able to have conversation without using cartoon characters as your main source of authority.
5) Know stuff I don’t (I like to learn).
6) Like meeting face to face
7) Find me amusing, but not in that clinical “why hasn’t she been sectioned?” way.
8) Don’t throw stones at small animals or children
9) Don’t bring a shovel when you tell me “I want you to meet my previous sexual partners”
10) Let me listen to you.
I think that is a pretty reasonable list, and if our dates go bad, just remember, I’m sorry; It’s Linda who talks to the lawyers about the restraining orders so please try not to hate me (or send me creepy mail).
Oh yeah, and the day ended with an SCI ‘will to power’ dude putting up some comment claiming that I am ‘not really disabled' becuase i do boxing. Whatever. Can’t wait to see what tomorrow brings.
PS - If you don’t hear from me for a few days, it is because Linda has read this blog and I am in big trouble, or she read the blog and we are doing some hard core....um.....cuddling.
10 hours ago