I dreamed I added my profile picture to an IndieWeb directory. Upon visiting the website in question, I noticed how my initial difficulty to correctly operate my phone’s photo library had resulted in two pictures. The first one showed my face, and the second did, too. Scrolling down, though, any viewer would immediately be met with my bare …

It’s difficult to describe how loud the birds are against the dark dark blue sky across the street from the hospital, and even more difficult to convey the dread I feel as I hear their poop splatter on the floor, but it’s very easy to say what it means to walk on two feet again, even if it’s with crutches and the occasional pain: the attitude is gratitude.

Mother on the tram to the two-year-old producing nails-on-a-chalkboard sounds with the mouth: “No honey, we can’t play with the clay now because it’s very cold. See, clay is made from bees wax. We’re almost home, but before that we need to go pick up feta at the supermarket.”

Due to forgetful manoeuvring on my part, I find myself off work for the next three Fridays. Having spent two lovely days at the office this week, I can tell that’s a good thing. I’m happy, but tired. Thankful, but tired. Challenged, but tired. Today’s the day I’ll finally tidy up all the medical supplies that have been scattered around the house since late October.

Sterile gauze, pain killers, an ear thermometer, a dozen boxes of antibiotics, cotton pads, hospital documents, paper bags serving as portable trash bins, and adhesive bandages bandages bandages. One recurring thought has been that I’m so privileged to even be in the position to buy the number of island dressings that I did. That and all the cab rides to the hospital. “Let’s get one thing straight,” said the surgeon on Monday, “you and those bandages are done. Go home.”

It all feels like another paragraph into a new chapter I’m calling “On the Up and Up”. Wounds become scars, standing showers become normal, takeout deliveries become an exception, wheelchairs become dispensable, supplies become clutter, hearts become calm.

Currently listening to Julee Cruise’s “Falling”.

My first time traveling to the office without taxi assistance since my accident. I’m excited to see everyone, and nervous about how tight these hiking shoes feel. I’ve worn the right one plenty of times, but I’m breaking in the left one only now. I keep thinking “what if my leg explodes?!” but then I remember what the surgeon said during yesterday’s check-up: “you no longer have an ankle problem, only a head problem.”

Three wins

1. Read the eleven peer reviews I had received at work, and was stunned, inspired, and humbled by the kindness and positivity. Part of me thinks that’s …

The charging indicator light of my antibiotics dispenser pack was quite bright, all things considered. The technical nurse pulled out two feet of IV that led right to my heart and I felt nothing. Tonight marks the first night in two weeks that I get to twist and turn as much as I want in my sleep. Another milestone in a long trajectory.