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The Walking Wounded

July 19, 2010
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Between the drugs and the pain lives the walking wounded, a writer with a story and no way to tell it.

It’s been three weeks since the fall and almost that long since the last blog entry.  I figured it was time for an update.  Sleep has been fleeting, at best.  Can’t seem to find a comfort zone that will keep me in nocturnal bliss more than two hours at a time.  I want to do more than I can do and every now and then I will move a certain way and get a sharp reminder that I can’t.

I finally put it in perspective last week when I used the words “Broken arm” in a sentence.  It sounds much more definite than a “Fractured humerus,” now doesn’t it.

Anyway, I will be back at the VA a week from today getting a new X-ray and the next set of marching orders, which I hope includes exercising and moving the arm, which in turn gets me that much closer to being back on Pearl.

It also means I should be able to get back to doing a full days of writing.  Just these few short paragraphs have my shoulder in a soft burn.  It will be hard to make word count with this broken wing.

I want to write and I want to ride.  Sucks to be me.



“I write to escape … to escape poverty.” ~ Edgar Rice Burroughs

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3 Comments
  1. July 19, 2010 2:45 pm

    I hope your broken wing heals quickly so you can get back to flying both on scroll and wheel.

  2. July 19, 2010 5:28 pm

    I know it doesn’t seem like it to you, darlin’, but you are healing, albeit slowly. It’s a huge relief to both Slevin and me that every move you make in your sleep no longer causes a painful moan. He was vastly worried…and, of course, so was his mom.

    And yes, it IS a broken arm. Patience, grasshopper! Those things don’t heal overnight.

  3. Diane Klengson permalink
    July 24, 2010 9:43 am

    That is one hell of an opening sentence Mickey and you are dead on! As far as arms go I do agree that broken arm is more comprehensible to the brain than fractured
    humerus. Those two words put together just don’t seem very meaningful to what a body can do. It will be fun to be you again. As Debi said very well patience, grasshopper. We will all be glad when you can ride and write again and then it won’t suck to be you anymore. LOL

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