I’ve loved all my trips this year. But as the right leg has become more useless in recent weeks my desire to get on a plane again when Oncobabe’s flight ban ends is greatly diminished.
In the early hours of this morning I was meant to fly from Adelaide to Melbourne. The mix of stiffness and pain in the offending leg would make such a flight uncomfortable. Meeting a mate in Halifax last night became difficult with the short walk from car to pub and then a realisation that my leg hadn’t moved for three hours being under the table.
And I really don’t know how to handle it. I’ll probably spend another few days alone in Anglesey next week. The hot tub drawing me in whatever the weather. Taking the pressure off my leg and pelvis. But while I want to be more active I am really struggling. Each time I stretch myself, I feel completely wrecked for the following few days. And the definition of stretching myself is becoming less intensive. Short walks are just about my limit. And I mean really short. And not very often.
I’m glad I packed a lot into 2017. The new year will need a different approach. And I’ve not quite adjusted to that yet.