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Apr. 15th, 2009 03:15 pmI'm doing better. Venting helped some, and also helped me see that I've been letting actively harmful things motivate me--again. Disability shame managed to creep up again, among other things.
So, the past few days I've been trying to take things easier, and not push myself way too hard, using strategies which have never actually worked. (Definition of insanity, eh?) Last night, I even demonstrated the sense to declare Takeaway Night. Not too surprisingly, the pain levels were better yesterday, not trying to push through it to the same extent.
Thank goodness, I now have an appointment set up for Friday, with a sports PT clinic in Ilford. The osteopath I saw when my back was horrible a little over a year ago recommended some remedial massage to get rid of some of the long-term fibrotic knots (a.k.a. Huge Hard Lumps) in my muscles, and I finally made an appointment. It helped a lot that this clinic will set up appointments through e-mail. The final push came from the thiamine deficiency setting up loads more cascading muscle spasms.
So, we'll see how that goes. Massage to work out some of the trigger points is exactly what I've been needing, but "when some of the knots get worked out" has started feeling like "when I win the lottery". *wry smile* With any luck, calming down some knots and pain will leave more energy available for other stuff, but I'm trying not to get my hopes up too much.
This afternoon, I was supposed to take Punkin back to the vet's for a followup appointment. She hid yesterday, after![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
vatine worked from home so that he could take her. Even hearing the word "bum" is prompting her to hole up now where we can't find her, and I can't say I blame her! Thanks to lingering nerve damage from her broken tail, she needed to go in over bowel problems again. My cunning plan today involved grabbing her in advance and sticking her in the carrier before she suspected anything, but I made the mistake of rummaging after some bungee cords beforehand. Evidently that sounds too much like rummaging for the Punkin. :/
I did manage to call and cancel the appointment, to call back and reschedule later (couldn't stay on the phone that long). That's something, at least, even if this is the third time we've had to reschedule due to her hiding so well! Never had another cat show such talent at hiding, which says a lot.
The bungees were for the Punkin Chariot. (Though a little Max-drawn one would be more appropriate.)vatine had a clever idea: strap the carrier on the back of the bike, and walk it over to the vet's. I'd been worried about scaring the poor cats, possibly by their box bouncing off the roadway, actually riding the bicycle. This way, it's less jostling, and we can keep a better eye on the box to prevent Punkin dislodging it from the rack by throwing herself against the sides. Last trip, she yowled much less and seemed less upset than riding in a cab. Almost better, not having to make two calls for a cab--and possibly deal with chatty drivers--makes taking the cats far easier for me.
Half jokingly, Ingvar independently suggested a communication device last night. Though that conversation quickly went around to Mohawk talking deer heads (or Cherokee Billy Bass!)--not so useful to lug around Greater London, but a cool project nonetheless--I had considered the idea some already. But, I'm still going through a lot of the same internal resistance that Joel Smith described in his Autreat paper (excellent overall, BTW). The same thing has kept me off (very reasonably) using TDD/textphone wherever possible.* Both options may well need more consideration.
Speaking of Max-powered vehicles, I came across another possibly appealing idea: a Max-drawn scooter. *g* I'd considered using a skateboard, but my knees in particular don't need that anymore, much as I used to enjoy skating. A scooter ought to be easier to control without straining Rachel bits, and Max would love it. Heck, that would work as a cat chariot, if we led Maxie Boy.
_______
* Hey, when I finally started admitting how much I was not catching in conversations thanks to the CAPD--actually asking people to repeat things--my mom pushed me hard to get my serious hearing loss checked out. And that wasn't even over the phone, nor with an assumption of smartassed intention. Wonder how I learned just to pretend to understand?!
So, the past few days I've been trying to take things easier, and not push myself way too hard, using strategies which have never actually worked. (Definition of insanity, eh?) Last night, I even demonstrated the sense to declare Takeaway Night. Not too surprisingly, the pain levels were better yesterday, not trying to push through it to the same extent.
Thank goodness, I now have an appointment set up for Friday, with a sports PT clinic in Ilford. The osteopath I saw when my back was horrible a little over a year ago recommended some remedial massage to get rid of some of the long-term fibrotic knots (a.k.a. Huge Hard Lumps) in my muscles, and I finally made an appointment. It helped a lot that this clinic will set up appointments through e-mail. The final push came from the thiamine deficiency setting up loads more cascading muscle spasms.
So, we'll see how that goes. Massage to work out some of the trigger points is exactly what I've been needing, but "when some of the knots get worked out" has started feeling like "when I win the lottery". *wry smile* With any luck, calming down some knots and pain will leave more energy available for other stuff, but I'm trying not to get my hopes up too much.
This afternoon, I was supposed to take Punkin back to the vet's for a followup appointment. She hid yesterday, after
vatine worked from home so that he could take her. Even hearing the word "bum" is prompting her to hole up now where we can't find her, and I can't say I blame her! Thanks to lingering nerve damage from her broken tail, she needed to go in over bowel problems again. My cunning plan today involved grabbing her in advance and sticking her in the carrier before she suspected anything, but I made the mistake of rummaging after some bungee cords beforehand. Evidently that sounds too much like rummaging for the Punkin. :/I did manage to call and cancel the appointment, to call back and reschedule later (couldn't stay on the phone that long). That's something, at least, even if this is the third time we've had to reschedule due to her hiding so well! Never had another cat show such talent at hiding, which says a lot.
The bungees were for the Punkin Chariot. (Though a little Max-drawn one would be more appropriate.)
vatine had a clever idea: strap the carrier on the back of the bike, and walk it over to the vet's. I'd been worried about scaring the poor cats, possibly by their box bouncing off the roadway, actually riding the bicycle. This way, it's less jostling, and we can keep a better eye on the box to prevent Punkin dislodging it from the rack by throwing herself against the sides. Last trip, she yowled much less and seemed less upset than riding in a cab. Almost better, not having to make two calls for a cab--and possibly deal with chatty drivers--makes taking the cats far easier for me.Half jokingly, Ingvar independently suggested a communication device last night. Though that conversation quickly went around to Mohawk talking deer heads (or Cherokee Billy Bass!)--not so useful to lug around Greater London, but a cool project nonetheless--I had considered the idea some already. But, I'm still going through a lot of the same internal resistance that Joel Smith described in his Autreat paper (excellent overall, BTW). The same thing has kept me off (very reasonably) using TDD/textphone wherever possible.* Both options may well need more consideration.
Speaking of Max-powered vehicles, I came across another possibly appealing idea: a Max-drawn scooter. *g* I'd considered using a skateboard, but my knees in particular don't need that anymore, much as I used to enjoy skating. A scooter ought to be easier to control without straining Rachel bits, and Max would love it. Heck, that would work as a cat chariot, if we led Maxie Boy.
_______
* Hey, when I finally started admitting how much I was not catching in conversations thanks to the CAPD--actually asking people to repeat things--my mom pushed me hard to get my serious hearing loss checked out. And that wasn't even over the phone, nor with an assumption of smartassed intention. Wonder how I learned just to pretend to understand?!
