I finally made it to my pain-specialist. I got my BURSTdr reprogrammed. This time, we both made sure that it would work in the areas that I need it to; my ENTIRE pelvic region. As of right now, Thursday, 2/7/19 at 2:34pm, I still have pain. I know that reprogramming means that I might have pain for a few days as the impulses reach my brain and begin blocking the pain signals. So, I'm coping. In my mind, I'm optimistic. I kind of have to be. Being negative only fuels the fires. Writing helps. It truly does.
Rob is off today and tomorrow. I love having him home. He's super-busy in the shop these days. I'm seeing him blossom as an artist. I've always told him that there is something within him that, if he only took the time, it would emerge. It's beautiful to witness, and I love seeing the creativeness in him. It's something that I've never truly seen. I'm falling in love with him all over again. Just goes to show that we are always evolving; ever-changing.
I just spent a while chatting with my good friend, Ann. We found each other in a Facebook group. We simply clicked; the more we talked, the more we found things in common. And, simply put, she's a good friend. There's that silly meme that goes around...
Yeah, it's sappy. But true.
...whatever. We had a great time catching up. She let me vent. We just click. It's been way too long since we have talked. Mostly because I simply haven't felt up to doing much. Quite honestly, it's still hard to sit in the PC chair, but I still find that writing more than a Facebook update on my phone or table to be daunting. The PC is in the family room in our basement. From my room to the basement is quite the journey for me, still. I am getting better, but as soon as I feel great and really take those stairs on, I feel it later and my body hates me all over, again. So, baby steps. Thank you, Ann. You are a treasure. I love ya, Doll.
My eldest, Aaron, just came in and announced that Frankie Robinson has just died. Now, I'm not a huge baseball enthusiast, but I do admire him, greatly. Rest peacefully, #20. RIP Frank Robinson