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railenthe# LEG.
Leg. Leg. Leg.
Leg.
I don't know what I did to it. The worst thing is that now it is getting to both legs.
*Worst* on that pain thing. The one with the faces.
___
A long rooms beat meant hours on my feet meant woozy moments... Meant leg pain.
It buzzes and vibrates and *burns*, the burning the worst of all.
...at least I didn't imagine the tremor earlier. Apparently there really *was* a 2.0 in the area.
___
The Japanese Festival is going on this weekend. I'm not going. I'm stuck at work. Even if I'd managed to get the time off, I wonder now if my legs could carry me.
I still remember my first trip. The place was vibrant, with so much going on. Sumo, martial arts demos, and this enthalling entertainer we just call The Candyman. Part Street Magician, part Confectioner, part Comedian, you never knew what exactly to expect—well, except for the sculpted candy, and even then you spend the time wondering when, given the fact you never took your eyes off him, *he managed to make a candy koi.* (And they're delicious too!)
___
I miss events. I miss being able to get out. Now I can't even get to the grocery store without this pain. This... damage.
Earlier in the year, I was looking forward to autumn hiking. Now I can barely walk.
The doctors know fuckall. They drag their feet while I drag this leg behind me. I've lost all feeling in my legs more times than I want to admit to recently. They postulate everything from brain tumors to lupus.
I remember that my dad's doctor predicted his health would have him in a wheelchair by the age of 30. His doctor was wrong about that—it's a story he tells a lot, very "screw that guy!"—but maybe he was off by a sprog.
I don't know. I just want my legs back.
Leg. Leg. Leg.
Leg.
I don't know what I did to it. The worst thing is that now it is getting to both legs.
*Worst* on that pain thing. The one with the faces.
___
A long rooms beat meant hours on my feet meant woozy moments... Meant leg pain.
It buzzes and vibrates and *burns*, the burning the worst of all.
...at least I didn't imagine the tremor earlier. Apparently there really *was* a 2.0 in the area.
___
The Japanese Festival is going on this weekend. I'm not going. I'm stuck at work. Even if I'd managed to get the time off, I wonder now if my legs could carry me.
I still remember my first trip. The place was vibrant, with so much going on. Sumo, martial arts demos, and this enthalling entertainer we just call The Candyman. Part Street Magician, part Confectioner, part Comedian, you never knew what exactly to expect—well, except for the sculpted candy, and even then you spend the time wondering when, given the fact you never took your eyes off him, *he managed to make a candy koi.* (And they're delicious too!)
___
I miss events. I miss being able to get out. Now I can't even get to the grocery store without this pain. This... damage.
Earlier in the year, I was looking forward to autumn hiking. Now I can barely walk.
The doctors know fuckall. They drag their feet while I drag this leg behind me. I've lost all feeling in my legs more times than I want to admit to recently. They postulate everything from brain tumors to lupus.
I remember that my dad's doctor predicted his health would have him in a wheelchair by the age of 30. His doctor was wrong about that—it's a story he tells a lot, very "screw that guy!"—but maybe he was off by a sprog.
I don't know. I just want my legs back.
All the hugs
Date: 2015-09-06 08:03 pm (UTC)Fingers crossed for you on this. (Your legs take more damage than a level 1 Black Mage in a Behemoth nest, can't they finally catch a break?)
That candy sounds delicious btw - is it that crystalized sugar kind? (I've seen the kind that looks like little land mines but never sculpted Japanese candy.)
Thanks *is hugged*
Date: 2015-09-06 10:32 pm (UTC)When you take an average NSAID, it takes care of regular pain, but the fuckery with the nerves continues. It's over 90F and my leg is like ice.
Oh, the candy! It starts off this soft molten thing, but hard enough to sculpt with, and he does all these neat things with it. When it's done it's like a caramel lollipop hybrid.
*uses more appropriate icon*
Date: 2015-09-08 11:55 pm (UTC)Re: candy, ahhh I see. Yeah I imagine a candy koi would be something quick to make but take years to learn how the technique for XD I'm still trying to learn basic pastry - I'd like to make macaroons but last time I made them they had no colour (despite me adding enough to make the mixture blue) and were rugged bastards instead of the smooth sleek kind that are the aesthetic pride of patisseries. (Which is why my next experiment is with choux as it's supposedly less demanding with technique provided you get it mixed properly and steamed right. I dunno, have you ever attempted it and if so any tips?)
Re: *uses more appropriate icon*
Date: 2015-09-10 08:32 am (UTC)I have yet to figure out pastry in practice. In theory I have it down pat. I can do a mean pie crust, and a dumpling full of buttery goodness (Like, an American stew dumpling, not like a wonton dumpling or a potsticker...still working on those) for either a savory or a sweet stew (MY APPLE DUMPLING STEWED APPLE THING IS TO MURDER FOR). If my knee disables me for the winter, I'm probably going to spend it learning the things that stumped me earlier in the year, like pastry stuff. I FINALLY got the hang of the perfect grilled vegetable and toasted grain pilaf (screaming hot grill, screaming hot pan/skillet).
I had to look up choux. It looks like a much easier place to start than puff pastry, which is where I WAS going to start. First things first, I'm going to have to get a pastry cutter. My hands' grip ain't what it used to be! Another reason for using a pastry cutter tool is that the butter will stay colder--because your hands aren't making contact with the cold butter.
no subject
Date: 2015-09-07 02:28 pm (UTC)Damnit. =| Really hoping things get better for you soon.
STOP EATING MY COMMENT THING
Date: 2015-09-10 08:53 am (UTC)The messed up thing? My knee is currently being held for ransom essentially
The closest knee guy apparently is owed money I didn't know about from three years ago, for a debt that was discharged because I was unreachable due to having been in the hospital at the time (ironic)
It has been resurrected as what is called zombie debt thanks to this thing
He won't see me until it's paid, the place has one number for the total, and the collections has another. None agree on which it is. It's medical extortion, I tell you.
I've got a skeleton plan to try to raise the money I need for that, living expenses, and all during the slow season using a thing like gofundme or something...though I have personal objections to that site itself, it's the name everyone knows about, and the slow season has officially started.
I don't work again until Saturday.