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To dig, or not to dig?
Jun. 21st, 2007 12:04 pmSo Sunday will mark my 10 days in the "cast thingy" being finished. So theoretically I'll be all healed, and theoretically I could go back to digging.
Unfortunately theory doesn't always equal reality.
Part of me is being uncharacteristically over-cautious. I could dig, since Ole isn't here to tell me not to (though when I talked to him on Tuesday he said he'd find out somehow. But I doubt he'd know). And I could go back to happily knitting and crocheting.
Though the thing is that after a lot of writing, my hand starts to hurt a tiny bit. And so I stop and wait for it to go away. And then I repeat this until I've finished all of my work. which really took to time at all today. But writing is not the same as a full day of digging...
So I really do think this is it for the rest of the season. And I'm actually okay with it. My work keeps me busy enough during the morning that I don't go crazy. Though I would like to be out in the Bathhouse (even if they keep all their artifacts separate and make more work for me...) But the idea of hurting myself permanently scares me. The idea that I may already be hurt permanently also scares me. I'm starting to feel old, since I'm not used to the whole idea of injury being permanent. In my world you get hurt, wait some time and perhaps take some medicine or get treated somehow, and then you get better. The idea of taking it easy when I can still do the work feels foreign to me. And everything is supposed to be fixable. I might gain weight from eating a lot of chocolate and not going to the gym for a year because I write a thesis, but I can get rid of that with a summer of archaeology, or perhaps actually finding the time to work out this year. See? Fixable. Things are supposed to heal. So why did I have to injure my tendons, which take forever to regenerate?!?!
And up until now I didn't miss the knitting, but now I do.
Unfortunately theory doesn't always equal reality.
Part of me is being uncharacteristically over-cautious. I could dig, since Ole isn't here to tell me not to (though when I talked to him on Tuesday he said he'd find out somehow. But I doubt he'd know). And I could go back to happily knitting and crocheting.
Though the thing is that after a lot of writing, my hand starts to hurt a tiny bit. And so I stop and wait for it to go away. And then I repeat this until I've finished all of my work. which really took to time at all today. But writing is not the same as a full day of digging...
So I really do think this is it for the rest of the season. And I'm actually okay with it. My work keeps me busy enough during the morning that I don't go crazy. Though I would like to be out in the Bathhouse (even if they keep all their artifacts separate and make more work for me...) But the idea of hurting myself permanently scares me. The idea that I may already be hurt permanently also scares me. I'm starting to feel old, since I'm not used to the whole idea of injury being permanent. In my world you get hurt, wait some time and perhaps take some medicine or get treated somehow, and then you get better. The idea of taking it easy when I can still do the work feels foreign to me. And everything is supposed to be fixable. I might gain weight from eating a lot of chocolate and not going to the gym for a year because I write a thesis, but I can get rid of that with a summer of archaeology, or perhaps actually finding the time to work out this year. See? Fixable. Things are supposed to heal. So why did I have to injure my tendons, which take forever to regenerate?!?!
And up until now I didn't miss the knitting, but now I do.
