Self Care

So very glad I opted-in for medical insurance through my job, and I've made very good use of it all throughout the year.

Here it is, December 23, and I will be coasting for the remaining 8 days of 2021, and don't have any medical appointments or self-care appointments until the new year.

At the beginning of December it was a flurry of appointments and Xrays and MRIs. The plan was for a PRP in the left hip, but given the language of the MRI report, the possibility of a hip replacement being discussed looms in my mind. I'm hoping to get this done in 2022, as no amount of PRP or PT will fix the labral tears in both of my hips. I just want to keep moving, and if possible, try to minimize my chronic pain. 

Several times this year, I have made "false-starts" as it were, in attempting to find a new therapist, preferably one that not only takes my insurance but also provides the type of therapy I am interested in. I have landed upon the names of two therapists who are local to me, who are in-network, and hopefully will be able to provide the type of therapy essential to my issues. Perhaps I will call to set an appointment today for some time in January. 

Beyond all this, Maharajah and I are both boostered. We both got Moderna this time around--after everything I went through with getting so sick after the first Pfizer shot, I wanted something else--and hopefully Moderna will be a great tool towards not catching COVID. 

Hard to believe this past Saturday marked two whole years since I last visited my mom. I still have her holiday voicemail she left for me. Glad I had the presence of mind to not delete it (along with about a dozen other voicemails). 

I wish I could say I am doing better regarding processing my grief, but I can't. I'm still avoiding visiting my brother and sister, as they've proven they're not vigilant in avoiding vectors for possible infection. I have enough troubles as it is without adding COVID (with the potential for LONG COVID) into the mix. 

Isolation and grief don't mix well. It's kind of like taking a sedative along with a shot of whiskey--it just intensifies the effects of both.

With the passing of mom in May 2020, and my dear friend Susan in October 2020, and the passing of my dear Dr. F. in February of this year (after he retired in 2017), I feel adrift. 

The reality is, mom wasn't much of a support in the last 20 years or so, and especially not since landing at Shady Pines in the summer of 2017; however, her passing has been profound for me. I wish I had one more conversation with her. 

I feel as if the foundation of my life is structured like a four legged bar stool, with three of the four legs now missing. I can't expect Maharajah to be my solitary support--that's too much to expect of him--ipso facto, the need for a therapist.