Not much to report

[hummingwolf]

I realized that while the pain in my leg had lessened during the days when I spent less time sitting down, the swelling still wasn't going away. So I went to the doctor, who looked at the spot and said, "Gee, I bet that hurts," and gave me a prescription for antibiotics to take for the next month or two.

After the doctor visit, I walked the mile from his office to the school, then decided I needed to eat before doing anything remotely constructive. An animated conversation between a Southern woman and the woman at a food court's Indian restaurant regarding the proper methods for cooking okra convinced me to buy the potato and okra curry special. Mmmmm... nummy, and not even remotely slimy.

At the school, I made an appointment for next Tuesday with their new placement director. Hopefully she'll be able to help me find some part-time job I can do. I've been offered a few full-time jobs, but my traitorous body won't allow me to work that many hours. Argh. Money would be nice... yes, very nice indeed.

Comments

[daisydumont.livejournal.com]

Sorry to hear about the pain in your leg! I hope the antibiotics lessen the pain right way and take care of the infection.

I like a compassionate doctor, don't you? Mine is so sweet, I wrote him into a poem about how he once showed me the love of God by holding onto my freezing feet with his own warm hands. He knows about healing, not just pills.

[hummingwolf.livejournal.com]

I really like my doctor. I spent years dealing with doctors who were either (A) unwilling to listen to their patients or (B) idiots, so finding a guy who both knows what he's talking about and knows what I'm talking about is a blessing indeed.

[blue-by-you.livejournal.com]

I whine for a week about the pain in my ear and you write about it so matter-of-fact-ly. (I don't care it's not a word). I want to be you when I grow up.

[hummingwolf.livejournal.com]

I've seen "matter-of-factly" used in print a lot. Well, a few times anyway. Or maybe it was just in my hallucinations. Let's call it a word anyway.

And no, you don't want to be me when you grow up. I whine lots--I just get sick of hearing myself by the time I get around to writing anything. Besides, a swelling that makes it painful to sit down for long is hardly conducive to composing a good, long, satisfying whine.