I slept the entire day after moving everything into storage. I didn't get up until like 6pm. My legs are still sore today. I should put some voltaren on them soon because nothing is really helping, so I'm pretty sure it's sore muscles. Although I've been running a fever all day. The only things I ate yesterday were apple chips, ensure clear, and a different larabar than the one I had before. I slept for a decent amount of time for once. About a normal night's rest, but still woke up a little earlier than planned. My internal clock has me on point lately. Seems I digested everything else except for the larabar. I got sick and it was the ONLY thing that came up, somehow. Everything else was digested just fine. There are only four ingredients though so I'm going to hazard a guess that I don't just dislike figs, I'm probably allergic to them... Well, I tried. And that one actually tasted pretty ok, considering they look and taste like something I would have fed my dog...
Today I had my appointment with the orthopedic specialist. This is the first time I removed the bandages I was sent home with since I was ordered not to shower or get them wet, so I hadn't really checked on their condition in a while. The left arm actually looks great compared to how it did look. It's healing well. The doctor said she could probably remove the stitches for that one today, but was a little worried about one end of it, so just decided to leave it because.... the right arm actually looks pretty bad still. Not as bad as it was, but completely crusted over with blood and pus. I carefully chipped away at some of it. The scab will probably be ready to come off after a little while longer. Unfortunately, that means I wasted about $30 today going to this appointment and back, only to be told that I have to come back in another week or two. They wanted to push it back later, but I told them the last day I'm going to be able to do anything will be the 17th. That's the day Brett is picking me up and taking me to the storage unit... and then back to the hospital for me. Also to answer the obvious question, no they cannot remove the stitches there because it's not a medical hospital and as far as I'm aware they ain't gonna let anyone just walk in and out for appointments. So I'm going on my last day in the free world. Hopefully they'll be ready by then. If not, I'll learn how to carefully remove them and do it myself before I go. I think my scissors got packed away but I have a real sharp knife.
I managed to find my savings wallet that had my stimulus and donations in it for emergencies, so that's good. It was in my medicine bag for whatever reason. I guess it's good that I shoved it somewhere in with the important stuff, but I don't remember doing it. My memory has really been shit lately because of all the stress. I can't wait to get out of here and go back to the fucking mental hospital, how sad is that?
I'm having a pretty good day though. Watching the karma start to unfold has been magical. Tony, who bailed on helping me move and lied about being out of town to spend time with Glitch, made a post on twitter about how he "didn't even know she could break his heart" and I just fuckin knowwwww it's about Glitch my fuckin sides are spitting as I type this, laughing like a hyena. It's just so fucking funny. She keeps coming around the house and everyone she's tried to be with has gotten in some kind of fight or break up situation. I asked if he's ok, because I'm fucking nosy and he didn't really elaborate, which furthers my beliefs. He said that he's disgusted with himself, dysphoric, hurt, and upset. I was just like haha that's ok buddy I'm pretty fuckin disgusted with ya too :) but in a seething, internal way. Sounds like Glitch tried to fuck him again. The last time that happened he felt the same way because Glitch will say things like she's a lesbian, even though Tony is a trans guy.... he's still a guy.... She is also trans, but y'all that's pretty fuckin transphobic, even if you're trans, to not respect the gender of another trans person. Sucks to feel dysphoric. I've been going through that recently myself. But he made a clear decision of having sex with her over helping me move out, so I really have zero sympathy. Empathy, yes. Sympathy... no. Hell no.
I think it's interesting the way the world works. When Liz was going through my room helping me pack the last of my things, she handed me the flowers that Tony had given me and asked me to throw them away. I stared at the flowers for a minute before she grabbed the bundle of dyed chrysanthemums back from me and threw them, vase and all, into the trash. She told me these things are fleeting and not worth holding onto. She said "Believe me, the less you have to worry about while moving, the better. It's best to get it out of the way now." I feel like those words held a lot more impact for me than she knew. Meanwhile, she didn't comment on the much nicer bouquet that my church sent me. I removed it from it's spot on my bookshelf so they could move it, and nothing was said. They sit on the remaining table that I have next to my computer. I'll probably dump the water and bring them to the storage locker. They can dry out in there for a while and I can keep them for as long as I'd like.
I feel like even if I don't always go to church, my faith has been tested and come out stronger. I'll bump into more friendly Christians, like one friendly uber driver today who asked about my arms and said he would pray for me. I asked him about his church and he said I should stop by sometime. If I'm ever in Mt. Joy, I might try to look for it. Who knows where I'll end up.
Seven days remain.