Being waited on is coming to an end

It is with much hesitation that I start getting back to work, after injuring my leg more than 10 days ago.

Don’t get me wrong, I am MORE THAN ready to get back on the wagon. Before my big four-wheeler snafu, I was averaging 6 miles of walking per day. To spend all day, every day has been very overwhelming for me.

I assure you, I have not been all that pleasant every single day.

In fact, this past Sunday I was in tears and bitching about every little thing. All Steve, Joe and Russ could do was look at me and NOT say a word.

The have learned.

I take that back. Joe brought my bottle of prescription pain killers over to me.

Before I was sentenced to laziness, I was walking an average of 6 miles per day, which came from my seasonal employment at Minnesota Valley Testing Labs. I was working in the soil lab preparing soil and running a few tests. They promise me I can return. Some of the summer interns said they “appreciated the quiet when I was gone.”

Smart asses.

That’s probably what I miss the  most – my job. I really miss being around people.

Playing in dirt.

I mean soil.

The reason I hesitate to get back into the daily grind is this: Steve has been so great at keeping up with the house work and making me feel like a super princess.

For the past week he has done laundry, swept the floor, washed dishes and so much other things.

He has patiently brought me lemonade, gone to the grocery store, visited the drug store to purchase more bandages.

He has taken several days off to haul me to the doctor. I must not forget that he took me to the doc at 4:30 in the morning the day after I smashed my right lower leg.

Joe has been the perfect gentleman. When we go somewhere in the car, he opens doors for me.

Russell asks if I need anything before I go to bed. He did complain today about hearing me “groan when you got into bed,” but that just led to a whole heap of laughter from all of us.

Neither one of our sons has whined or thrown a fit when I ask for something as soon as I sit on the couch and realize I forgot an item upstairs.

Slowly, I have been getting to use one crutch to get around the house. Who knew a bruise could be so dang painful. I cannot stand on my feet for more than one hour without the pain returning.

Joey does yell at me to “Take your pain meds!”

Those things scare me. I consider them little white devils. I would rather deal with a little bit of sharp, throbbing pain, than have to worry about becoming addicted to pain-relieving narcotics. I mean…I do have an addictive personality and with my alcoholism in control for almost 25 years, I just don’t want to go there.

That scares the shit out of me.

Anyway, the more I do around the house for daily maintenance, the less Steve and the boys will be doing.

And I am kind of liking being waited on hand-and-foot!

Every girl wants to feel like a princess once in a while.

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