I woke up this morning in my usual pain from a shoulder situation I need to spend money to fix properly. I haven’t been stretching at all so I decided I needed to start there. I did. It sucked a whole lot.

Finished and sitting on the floor and contemplating the very minor shoulder improvement and how I might alleviate it further, I knew the next step was exercising.

I haven’t done that in a while, either. Because the last time I did, it resulted in an ER trip and partial blindness.

I stared at the door where I’d attach my resistance band. I visualized it. I tried to ignore the memories.

And then Fallout Boy sings, “Put on your war paint.”

Too fitting. I attached the band to the door, put on safety goggles, and did most of my routine. I didn’t cry. I did get nauseous and shaky (but some of that was the workout).

That’s when I realized today was the 3rd. Exactly one month after my injury. 

Progress isn’t linear. I know that. Legend of Korra teaches it. I had an eye appointment on Wednesday and didn’t hear what I wanted to. I’m back to four eye drops a day and a second eye drop twice a day. 

I’m tired of thinking about it. I’m tired of trying to measure impossibly small changes. I’m tired of wearing sunglasses.

My eyes are physically tired from the strain and compensation. A part of me still wishes I’d lost the eye and then I feel like shit about that.

But it was a MONTH ago. No time has passed in this years-long March, I swear. 

There has been progress. Some.

And there will be more.

April 03, 2021