All the king's horses and all the king's men...

I've been experiencing much more pain in my leg. During our trip I tried my best to ignore the pain - I was in Europe, after all!! But there were those days (okay, 4) that I spent mostly in bed. It hurt to move, it hurt to breathe - hell, it hurt!!

Since I've been back, I've played possum again with my friends. I can't fake it for very long, the girlies know me too well. I'm good for about 3-4 hours before I'm not able to move without either making my lovely grunting noises or tapping my foot so hard against the ground that my entire wheelchair shakes. When Missy K. was here there were several times I wheeled straight to bed because I needed a break.

When my leg hurts this bad, it's impossible to ignore it. It's hard to sleep and function normally. If I'm lucky to fall asleep, the leg pain will wake me up and finding a comfortable position to sleep again is not easy. The past two weeks have become a marathon of twenty hour days.

One of the unfortunate side effects lack of sleep spits out is emotional rawness. I have been skewered with pain. I cry when I'm alone - this is not hormonal, believe me. I hurt from the tightness in my scalp to the numbness in my toes. My emotional innards have been twisted, wrung out and stretched. I don't feel hopeless, just tired and empty. Not depressed, just flat and colorless.

Sleeping pills don't work. Painkillers don't work. I'm not wallowing in self-pity, either. This is yet another chapter in my recovery that is thicker than those in the past. I know I will push through but right now, I feel broken.