In am finally being recompensated for my lost wages – meaning I can finally pay off the three months of rent I’m behind on and actually afford to run the heat – and my doctors seem pleased with my healing and movement.
I’ve also gotten the occasional unprompted card and care package from around a dozen or so different Dopers, including two or three that sent me multiples. It’s a little embarassing actually and I’ve written down names and addresses for later in the year when I’ll be back to work and able to send some sort of small token of my appreciation in return.
The only recent disappointment was when I had my monthly check-up at the end of December and was told that even after two months of healing, I had another six to go before I could return to work. I was hit at the very beginning of November and, if I am lucky, I will be able to start living my life again come sometime between June and August.
I am healing and the man that hit me had insurance though, so I’m happy enough. My situation could be so much worse.
Just a sliver over 2 years now. Well. Tobacco at least. My wife still hasn’t. She’s taking another run at it soon. I told her I wouldn’t knock her up again until she quits. She’s got the fever, ya know.
Nobody asked, but here goes. Mrs. Nott’s chemotherapy is going smoothly, if slowly. She saw her oncologist the other day, and he decided to put her on a help-you-get-through-chemo drug that sounds like “neoprene.” She has a job interview tomorrow in Indianapolis, something she’s eminently qualified for. If they don’t have to hire a young male, she’ll probably get it.
My busted rib and lung healed nicely, and now I’m working with trainer at the gym to learn how to work out without hurting myself. I had quit working out for a few months because my shoulder was getting crunchy when I used the “chicken dance machine.” That’s the one where you flap your arms like in the Polish chicken dance. I don’t think I was doing it right.
Nearly everyone who lost power in the ice storm is back up now. However, we have had three times a normal January’s precipitation so far (Jan. 14th.) Some rivers are approaching all-time high flood levels, including the White River, about a mile from here. I’m way up a hill from the river, but lots of people are not so lucky. In Indy, a neighborhood called Frog Hollow was flooded, dried out and flooded again. Folks, if you move into a place called Frog Hollow, you might expect some flooding. Maybe I’m wrong.
The temperature dropped drastically today. It quit raining, and we got a little snow. The weather brujos are calling for 16 degrees tonight, and a high of 20 tomorrow. I say brujo, because weather prognostication in Indiana is less science than black arts.
Our cat Freckles is starting to get used to his new CatIt® fountain, but he still wants to pester us for water in the bathroom sink. If a cat can’t pester you about something, I guess, he loses his cathood. He doesn’t want to go out in the eternal rain, but he hopes the other door won’t have rain outside it. It’s rough.
My wife still hasn’t. She’s taking another run at it soon. I told her I wouldn’t knock her up again until she quits. She’s got the fever, ya know.