I suppose that’s progress…

Posted: September 20, 2011 in Self-Deprecation
Tags: , , , ,

Well, after another physical therapy visit in the books, I’m showing marked signs of improvement.  That’s a damn good thing, because I’ve been working Jill like an underpaid amusement park employee.  Before you immediately follow my mind into the gutter (and rightfully so), do you have any idea how amusement park employees are miserably treated?  It took me less than 30 seconds to find a whole book about it, and believe you me– working at an amusement park like being cast into the Fourth Circle of Hell by your employer.  That’s another rant entirely, so enough of that digression.

Where was I?  Oh yes, making Jill do work.  My range of movement improves daily, to the point where I even impressed my therapist.  In the strength category, I’ve made a 350% improvement in my grip.  That number’s astounding, but when you consider that I went from roughly 9lbs of grip in my hand to about 32…  the percentage may not be quite as impressive.

Anyway, in spite of all of this, I have one teensy-weensy problem that Rosie still has to handle for me.  I can’t wipe my own ass right handed.

Shit tickets be damned!

So we meet again, oh necessity of those needing to make offerings unto The Porcelain Goddess.

I don’t know whether it’s the angle my wrist has to be, or the torsion of the wrist, or what it is– but Jill can’t be bothered to make the two-ply pilgrimage unto the brown eye without screaming in agony.  I mean, not that I blame her (all surgical repair work considered)– and it’s not like I’m running around with dingleberries a-ringing.  Rosie’s had my back(side) since Jill went into the cast.  I really should buy her flowers for her efforts, but that might give my girlfriend the wrong idea.  I just can’t get behind progress when progress can’t reach my behind.

Oh well, with that wonderful mental image seared into your cerebral cortex– it’s time for my 2pm wrist workout.

Don’t tell me you didn’t see that one coming.


  1. SB says:

    I think Jill needs to stop thinking inside the box and start exploring alternate routes… much like Rosie needed to learn how to put on deodorant, monkey-style. Here’s a thought – put Rosie on the bench for a well deserved break for a day, and see what Jill comes up with. She’s smart, she can handle herself (… and you.) And if she REALLY can’t and Rosie needs to step back in, it’s not like someone’s going to throw a flag at you for misuse of hands.

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