I'm starting to feel housebound. I keep trying to invent reasons I should leave the house with the family, but they're on to me.

Dammit.

They know that if I leave the house my knee will swell up like a balloon and then I'll be set back a few days. I really need to get the fuck out of the house. Today, Leann drove me to drop Genny at Kindergarten and I was so freaking excited!

I'm such a sad excuse for a human being. Not to mention...so freaking sick of sewing, which is about my only creative outlet except here. For writing, I am tired enough and hepped up enough on painkillers to not be terribly creative in my writing, not to mention how little life I feel like I am living -- thus, a little low on material, though I'm an excellent whiner! I don't really whine to anyone, just kind of too myself.

I feel like I'm waiting for my future. I feel like I'm waiting for my knee to stop being swollen, for my ability to straighten to my leg. I was really disheartened today when the physical therapist said that my knee may never be able to fully extend. It was hard not to break down into tears in front of him. I've been working so hard and then to hear that somehow broke my heart into little pieces.

I do my PT 2x per day. Some of the exercises are excrutiatingly painful. I have to spend 1-2 hours in my torture machine. Sometimes, my thighs are spasming afterwards making midnight bathroom trips difficult at best. Last night, I had to actually increase the amount of leeway I gave myself for straightening my leg rather than decreasing it, but I seem to be able to bend my leg better and better. The goal is 90 and I am at 80 currently. My straightening is another matter -- I remain circling around 8.

People ask how I'm doing and I want to burst into tears. Practically, I'm doing ok, but my patience with myself is definitely lacking.