Brace for Impact

It's Monday and I would love nothing more than to report that I am hitting the pool tonight. But sadly I'm still at least a month or two away from being able to swim. Actually a week from today I see the doctor again and will find out what the next few months look like for me, what my physical therapy schedule will look like, and when I can start swimming, biking, running, or even walking on my own two feet again.

I've managed now, thirty days into this ordeal, NOT to have a complete meltdown, I've had mini-meltdowns. Sitting in the shower for instance, on the lawn chair that fits perfectly in there (thank you Vossler), I'll try shaving my legs. I know, WTF am I trying to shave my legs for?! I'm doing it for me damn it, so shut up. Like I said, I'll try shaving my legs, I won't be able to set my left foot down in order to prop my right leg up for a proper shave - so I end up teetering back on my bony ass, balancing; shaving cream in one hand and a razor in the other.

Then BAM! Shaving cream smashes to the floor, I flinch and almost slam my leg against the shower wall to brace for impact - but bracing for impact is the last thing I should be doing. I cringe at the thought of what could happen. Gather my thoughts. Look at my surroundings then lean down to get the shaving cream. Son of a bitch, the shaving cream has rolled under the chair to the back of the shower. I can't reach that. Looking around I see my snazzy conditioner, that should work.

By the time I get out of the shower, toweled off and am working each leg slowly into my stretchy pants I realize that I forgot to shave the front of one of my legs. I nice strip of hair running up my leg. Screw it. I'll get it next time.