Happy Pentecost!

Today is Pentecost, considered the "birthday" of the Church, the day that the Holy Spirit descended on the Apostles in the first "Confirmation". It's the third most important feast of the Catholic Church, after Easter and Christmas.

It's also a rather boring day here in Michael's life.

The weekend being almost over, I think I can safely state that I did not fall back into the patterns of near-despair that bothered my weekend last week, and that the sense of purpose and optimism that came back into my life with work last week seems to have lasted the weekend.

Still, though, not much actually happened in the past couple days. I spent (and am spending) way too much time online. I've had the same upset stomach three nights in a row now, and this comes after having had the same lasagna each time. I think there may be a connection, since I didn't feel bad before supper. I did feel weak, but that probably had more to do with the fact that it was the first meal I'd had all day.

Anyway, I've watched Stargate: Atlantis, and was thoroughly amused about it being named after me. (The episode was entitled "Michael".) However, an hour long TV episode only lasts so long--namely an hour--and I've got some time yet before bedtime, and about as much to do before then as I've had to do all weekend: not much.

June should be a lot better in this respect. I'm going home at least three weekends out of five, and I'm hopefully going to be off my crutches. The big day to find out about that is Tuesday. I'm really, really hoping I get into a walking cast. For one thing, my left leg is noticeably thinner than my right leg, due to atrophy, and this is starting to scare me. Actually, I'm just starting to get scared in general. Not rationally, and not really all that much... but as the date to see the doctor draws near, and my hopes soar upwards with regards to getting off the crutches, I'm plagued with silly ghost-like fears.

They're the same kind of nervous twitchings I get when going somewhere I've never been before, and I'm not really sure I've got the right time or address. At least, they have the same effect on my stomach. However, instead of being fluttery over the thought of showing up on the wrong doorstep or embarassingly early, this is a fluttery fear that when I accidentally bumped my leg on floor at the theatre, I set myself back. Or that that funny tingling when I'm hobbling along is my leg dangling re-broken, and not just denim hanging on my leg where I'm not used to it (last week was the first time I wore jeans since I broke my leg).

I really, really hope I get off the crutches. Not that the crutches are that bad... except first thing in the morning when my wrists really don't want to do it, or in the late afternoon if I have been moving all day, and under my arms is getting rubbed raw. No, what I really look forward to is being able to carry things.

I fully intend--and need--to celebrate by going shopping. Now, that sounds terribly feminine and ridiculous, but I assure you that there is a bit of necessity underneath. For one thing, I need food. I really do need more than the provided leftovers/frozen food left for us on the weekends, especially if the lasagna really is giving me indigestion. Furthermore, some variety in what I'm packing for lunch, and not having to go up and down to the cafeteria when I'm having to eat a bedtime snack would be good.

There's also LEGO to think of. I'm quite sure that the new Space and Castle sets, if not out quite yet, should be very, very soon. I just haven't checked because what's the point? Even if they are, I don't plan to haul them around on my crutches.

And then there's all the odds and ends that are piling up... My good pen has got to be on the verge of dry, and I've gotten spoiled in using the same kind. My shampoo won't last much more than another week. My toothpaste is likewise getting low, as is soap.

Finally, there's laundry. Now, this does not involve shopping, but it is sort of being put off for the same reason. Being about to properly carry a laundry basket, and not have to deal with the whole mess of shoving a load of laundry in my backpack, and hobble to the laundry room with that is a major incentive to want my arms back.

Because I don't feel like I lost my leg--I feel like I lost my arms.

I don't know that having my arms back will actually make my life any more interesting, but I really, really, really want to have them back.

I am, however, scared that they'll put me on physiotherapy. Now, that's not a bad thing in itself, but when are they going to do it other than office hours--when I'm working? I feel bad enough having to take time off for all those finals and the checkup, and any ordinations I'll attend.... I don't there's going to be a week I'm not taking at least a couple hours off for something or other. Blame it on my scrupulous honesty... but I'm uncomfortable with it.

Well, I'll find out on Tuesday. I'm sure there will be a full report here.