Name: margalit
Location: Massachusetts, United States Professional writer, educational advocate, opinionated ultra liberal mother of 18 year old twins, living life in the slow lane due to hypertrophic cardiomyopathy, congestive heart failure, and diabetes.

email: margalitc at yahoo dot com

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Monday, April 11, 2011


Some time in my sleep last Thursday night I hurt my left knee. I cannot for the life of me figure out how a person totals their knee in bed, but if it can be done, I'll be the one to do it.  So I did. It hurts like hell in the inside right of my patella. It is a familiar pain. My right knee is a fake knee installed way back in 1980. i have done the knee thing. I do not want to do it again. When my right knee fell apart in 1980, they weren't really doing much microsurgery so I got the full 12" scar, some teflon, and a new patella. It took months and months to heal and it never has been 100% right since them. Consequently, I've been avoiding admitting that my sad left knee might be really torn up. Especially because....sleeping injury? How embarrassing is that?

Meanwhile, someone at JCFS called me today about all our other crisis problems and recommended that I call their mental health department because of my high level of stress. I didn't even know they had a mental health department but I agreed to call just to lower my stress level and problem solve how to dig my way out of this hole.

Meanwhile Gemma appeared home yesterday evening, slept until 2 this afternoon and then screamed at me when I mentioned job hunting. Graham applied for a job at our local Dunkin' Donuts. He's hoping to get an interview and has even agreed to wear his navy blue dockers on an interview. We are making progress people, progress.

I saw a show the other night called Cats 101 that showcased a British cat that lived near the seaside. The cat somehow figured out that it could hop on the little tourist train, ride it to the last stop that happened to be the seaside aquarium, walked through the aquarium building gazing at the fish tanks until he got outside in the back where the penguins lived. He sat watching the penguins for a long time with no growling or meowing until it was time to go back home. He hopped back on the train, got off at his home, only to do it again the next day. It was hilarious but I can't find a clip to show you. Sob.

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