I haven’t blogged here for a bit. That’s because I’ve taken a break from mental illness–not an actual break, of course; that’s just a figure of speech–and given physical illness a try instead. Last week I had reconstructive knee surgery. Today, my leg looks like this:

I keep coming back to fruit metaphors: a bruised apple? An old banana? A moldy peach? Any way you slice it, I’m in a lot less pain than that photo would lead you to believe; in fact, I’ve only taken one painkiller since my initial Percocet prescription ran out, which is a testament to either my pain threshold, my strength, or my stubbornness, depending on your point of view. I wish my life hadn’t reached a point where I own (and use) a machine that pumps ice water through my surgically-repaired knee…but whatever: it’s an adventure, albeit an unwanted one, and I’m going to grab hold of it with both hands–even if one of them’s so bruised from a misplaced needle it looks as though I’ve been in a prize fight. I’m sexy and I know it.


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