'Roid Rage

Well, ok, no rage, but today I got a steroid shot in my knee. Now, I'm a well-known wimp when it comes to medical stuff. I faint when people even talk about medical procedures. Any time I Google-image-search a medical condition, I regret it.
Needles, though, are fine. Totally fine. It was funny to me that during the shot, which took a long time to administer, I was all cool. But then they just wouldn't stop TALKING about stuff and I had to lie down. Ha, ha.
The injection included a topical anesthetic, which has now kicked in. That, combined with the Tramadol and ibuprofen I've been making sure not to forget, helps a lot. Now I just hope I can survive physical therapy! Go me, I can do it!

Desire to write something...

But no knitting content. I'm not sure whether I should transition this blog or start a new one; already I have left in my wake a trail of discarded blogs. Abandoning projects half-way through is my primary hobby, after all.

I have been thinking lately about pain and pain meds because I am living that right now. When you have surgery they send you home with a prescription for narcotics and tell you to "stay on top of the pain," but here's my question: at what point do you move beyond "staying on top of it" and into "I am addicted to pain pills" territory? Sometimes when I hurt I'll take a Tramadol and then wonder if I'm not getting hooked on not being in excruciating pain. It's an easy thing to get hooked on, certainly. At this point my "habit" isn't interfering with my life or work or anything so I don't think it's cause for alarm, but how will I know? Ideally the pain will diminish and then stop, but I have no guarantee that will happen. I'm not worried about it, just wondering.

I'm also wondering, somewhat less hypothetically, if I ever will get better and be able to just do life normal again and walk a lot and take the stairs and go back to yoga and stuff. I think I would benefit from a lot more exercise, but see above in re: pain.

I'm such a whiner.

This week in pain...

Tuesday we took Madeline to the vet. Now... Maddie isn't fond of me at the best of times. But when I'm trying to get her into the carrier? She really isn't. I came away with a nasty bite on my finger, but the swelling has gone down on it enough for me to move and it's healing up nicely.
But then Thursday comes along. We're out for a treat of ice cream (hooray!) and get rear-ended. Hello, whiplash. No worries, I'll just continue my regimen of frequent ibuprofen that I began in response to the hateful cat.
And now Sunday.
I used my Burt's Bees Milk&Honey lotion, which smells so tasty that my Banzai had to lick my leg. We sit outside to warm up after being in a too-air-conditioned restaurant. I get in the car to leave and feel something brush against my face. Thinking it is my hair, I reach up to brush it out of the way, when OW! What the hell! I look at my thumb and there it is: a stinger.
Poor little honeybee gave her life to fight off my thumb. I feel horrible. This wouldn't have happened if I didn't smell so sweet. :(