Commitment

Today I drove to Santa Clarita in the middle of the raging Sand Fire to get my treatment, so you know I am committed to getting better! I didn’t know what to expect, but R didn’t cancel and said he was fine when I sent a worried text on Saturday. Of course, I brought my camera in case I saw something interesting, and I did: the smokey cloud above. I also saw the fire and two water-dropping helicopters, but but didn’t stop to take a picture (the old me would have, back when I was up for adventure). And, luckily for R (and me) the fire was burning on the opposite side of town.

Last week the treatment went well. I was sore in a good way, feeling the excess lactic acid releasing into my muscles and bloodstream to be washed away. The pain was at its’ lowest Saturday morning, but by Saturday evening it began to return with a vengeance, so I learned that treatment once a week is not enough. This week I am going back on Friday. Hopefully we can move this pain, reduce this behemoth, get it out of my way and stop going forward and backward, back and forth, over and over and over like Sisyphus. Sisyphus was committed, but unlike him, I am trying new ways of reaching my goal.

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