I am not Emily D.

Yesterday, I was really bitchy when Mark came home later than expected. I was on my ass all day and even tho (small applause) I did contribute to my short story yesterday with a new scene, I felt mostly isolated and frustrated. My ankle didn't seem to be any better (each day I look for minute improvements and, sometimes, like today, I think I feel it, but sometimes, like yesterday, I don't) and so I was also depressed. I had been looking forward to my bath/shower but that had to be rushed because he was late. I went into my massage still grumpy and she ended the session with some energy healing over my heart which I felt was powerful and calmed me down a bit. Mark and I went to a new (for us) Greek restaurant and the food was very good so by the time we returned home, I was resigned to acceptance (again.)

I slept so hard I didn't get up once for the bathroom, tho I woke up a couple of times in early morning to rearrange my leg in the bed. I will be surprised if my right leg doesn't end up slightly longer than the left: during the night, it feels like the boot is slowly stretching my leg and my thigh aches in the morning.

I can see the heel bruising is changing color from blue to green (I think the bruise is from the dislocation) and, four weeks after my surgery, my ankle bones are slowly returning to a shape other than "swollen." The tautness underneath the ankle continues, but, maybe today, I can again feel it shrinking.

Negotiating swim times/drivers is a challenge I am having. This is probably the last week Mark has the flex to take me and I want Aron to observe my transportation and swimming process before he takes on some of the schedule next week until I can drive again. (When will that be? Mid-June, end of June?) Today, Mark will come home in late aft. so I can catch the afternoon pool hours and then go vote. I hope the voting isn't a hassle (standing up too much) because I want to vote and didn't get a mail-in ballot as Mark did.

I will probably write up my new story scene today on the computer tho sitting at the computer table is still iffy for me: my leg is down and the circulation sets in. I keep wearing the sock because I don't like to see my foot change colors like the horses in the City of Oz. I will read the article in Sunday's NY Times Art Section on Emily Dickenson's home--talk about isolation and writing. She found a way to live with both and turn the isolation into a foundation for her writing. Not me. I struggle with it, particularly when it is "imposed" such as now. But I will do my best--not to emulate Emily, but to balance, albeit on (still) one foot.