I grabbed my pool bag this morning, gave Sam a quick kiss and headed off to my surgeon appointment, fully planning to swim after my chiro appointment which followed my surgeon appointment.
This is the knee that got the "no" - as in no swimming. If you look at it closely, you'll see a little red scrape to the left of the scar, center of the picture.
Saturday at work, I had picked up a deck chair. One of the legs hit me beside the scar - hence the little red scrape. It began to bleed and bleed and bleed. We applied a bandaid and I didn't think twice about it.
Until the surgeon asked me this morning, "Did you cut yourself shaving?"
"Um . . . no! I was attacked by a deck chair."
You know, I could pick up a deck chair a million more times and I would never get a little cut like that again. But it is that little cut that is keeping me out of the pool until Friday . . .
And this is my last whine until 2019! I've already whined to Sam and Matt and Micah and my chiropractor and now, my friend, to you!
Until the surgeon asked me this morning, "Did you cut yourself shaving?"
"Um . . . no! I was attacked by a deck chair."
You know, I could pick up a deck chair a million more times and I would never get a little cut like that again. But it is that little cut that is keeping me out of the pool until Friday . . .
And this is my last whine until 2019! I've already whined to Sam and Matt and Micah and my chiropractor and now, my friend, to you!
No comments:
Post a Comment