That's not a workout machine, that's a machine of torture!
I went to the gym today. The doctor told me that activity is good if my pain levels allow it. I used an eliptical trainer, which reminded me of an exercise bike, except that you have to stand. My legs are shaking, but I don't think there's a huge increase in painlevels... yet. I'm going to go wash up, so who knows how I'll feel after that. Bath time (I don't actually have a shower, just a bath which is actually good given my lack of balance) is a love/hate thing for me. On one hand, I love pretty smelling shampoo and soap and bubbles, on the other hand, this involvessome water running over my foot if Iwant to wash my hair (don't ask, I'm flexible...). It also involves the washing of the foot, the washcloth is like sand paper as is the towel. If I'm extra lucky (note the sarcasm), I get to experience my foot getting mad at life. I don't know why that is...
Anyway, more snarky (is that the termI'm lookibng for?) observations about life later. One last story before I go. Julio dida very good boy today. Yes, I know that's awful grammar. Anyway, I told him to find the stairs. I was only half paying attention and realized that we had passed the stairs already. I told him to halt and he did. Then, I swear, he licked my hand and wagged his tail as if to say "Trust me, Mom. You coming or not?". So, just to see what he'd do, I decided to follow him. There my boy was, leading me to the elevators. What a smart puppy. I need to take the elevators more, but it's hard to give up the speed and control of the stairs.
