After a trip to the walk-in clinic I’m back on my feet (kind of). A mixture of steroids, anti-inflammatory pills, and muscle relaxants have collectively worked to combat whatever the source of the pain was (or at least mask it temporarily). Despite this absence of pain I am still mostly useless around the house and I can’t help but feel sorry for my wife as she picks up all of the slack that I’m currently (and by necessity) leaving behind. One of the things I’m noticing during my period of inability is how much I actually do do and how much I could be doing.
On the positive side I realize how much heavy lifting I’m able to save my wife from during a given day or week. My son is a chunk. He’s got big marshmallow thighs and is now moving with such confidence that his strength is almost too much to contain at times. While my wife certainly bears the brunt of his weight (while nursing and transporting during the day) I am at least able to lessen some of those repetitive strains when I am at home.
On the negative side I realize how much I could be doing in addition to what I already do. While lying on a sofa or a bed one has time to think about all of the things they’d like to be doing and some strange things pop into your mind: Dishes, laundry, garbage. While I do occasionally perform these tasks it always seems to be when any of the above are past the point of overflowing (dirty dishes, dirty clothes, and stinky garbage). In truth, part of this realization is because I am at home during the day (on account of the injury) but on any other day I would not be. That, however, is another story about the amazing 2 jobs, 2 parents, 1 kid and 1 car: how do they get around? For now, I’ll just lay here and think about all the things I could be doing.