At Last ... Coffee Relief
I sit here writing this, enjoying the first cup of non-semi-handmade java made in our new Krups Coffee Machine FME4. On Sunday afternoon, I finally gave up on the repair of the former loyal servant, after discovering I had no way of getting past the diabolical Krups method of attaching the bottom access cover of the old machine. Plastic "nuts" melted in the center? Who ever heard of such a thing! Oh well, it served me well over the last six or seven years, so I suppose I shouldn't complain.
I think Janice was feeling sorry for her intestines after the past week of sometimes semi-crunchy coffee in the morning (I had named the semi-handmade brew "Morning Surprise") or perhaps she was simply feeling a bit sympathetic for me after yesterday evening's Physical Therapy session.
Karen (the PT technician) had, in her customary way, asked how I was doing when I arrived. I told her my wrist was feeling better, but I had some concerns with the amount of pain I have in the ankle when I put any significant weight on it. So the first five or ten minutes of the appointment consisted of her examining my ankle, while I put some weight on it, to try to identify the source of the pain, pressing on this tendon then that tendon ... and then ...
BLAM! A jolt shot through me as if a bolt of lightning from above ... I saw the oncoming blackness ... I forced myself to thrust out my hands to grab onto something, anything, to keep from going down. I grabbed the therapy table and steadied myself as the universe of stars slowly unfolded and receded from my vision.
"Lee? Are you OK? Are you still with us?" I heard her say, as if she were calling down from the edge of an abyss.
"What the hell did you just hit?!?" I exclaimed, not wanting to be mean to the poor girl.
"I think I pressed too hard on the site of the break," she explained. "I'm so sorry ... I shouldn't have pressed so hard. I think the break maybe hasn't healed 100%. I thought you were going to faint there."
"No kidding," I thought to myself. "You and me both."
I'll be interested to see the new x-rays I hope they will take in Thursday morning's follow-up appointment at the Orthopedist's. Damn.
I think Janice was feeling sorry for her intestines after the past week of sometimes semi-crunchy coffee in the morning (I had named the semi-handmade brew "Morning Surprise") or perhaps she was simply feeling a bit sympathetic for me after yesterday evening's Physical Therapy session.
Karen (the PT technician) had, in her customary way, asked how I was doing when I arrived. I told her my wrist was feeling better, but I had some concerns with the amount of pain I have in the ankle when I put any significant weight on it. So the first five or ten minutes of the appointment consisted of her examining my ankle, while I put some weight on it, to try to identify the source of the pain, pressing on this tendon then that tendon ... and then ...
BLAM! A jolt shot through me as if a bolt of lightning from above ... I saw the oncoming blackness ... I forced myself to thrust out my hands to grab onto something, anything, to keep from going down. I grabbed the therapy table and steadied myself as the universe of stars slowly unfolded and receded from my vision.
"Lee? Are you OK? Are you still with us?" I heard her say, as if she were calling down from the edge of an abyss.
"What the hell did you just hit?!?" I exclaimed, not wanting to be mean to the poor girl.
"I think I pressed too hard on the site of the break," she explained. "I'm so sorry ... I shouldn't have pressed so hard. I think the break maybe hasn't healed 100%. I thought you were going to faint there."
"No kidding," I thought to myself. "You and me both."
I'll be interested to see the new x-rays I hope they will take in Thursday morning's follow-up appointment at the Orthopedist's. Damn.
posted by Lee at
5/17/2005 07:39:00 AM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home