My right leg is now approximately 5 mm longer than my left. I got the stitches out on Monday and the brace off. Go, go physical therapy. Tomorrow I have to go back to Sloan Kettering to get a needle biopsy on my thyroid nodule. The secretary called me to make a post-biopsy follow up appointment. I told her I don’t need a follow up appointment if it’s benign. I am planning a Sloan Kettering-free Valentine’s Day.

I am three weeks post-surgery. Three weeks more to walking with 50% weight on my metal. I can get up and walk by myself (on crutches). I have 4 degrees left on the knee bending machine. I am half medication-free. My new physical therapist is entirely lovely. I am allowed to shower.

1) find muscles, 2) eat sushi, 3) go back to work, 4) see Present Laughter, 5) drink coffee.

Today, earrings.

Jake came to visit and brought me a book about legs.

My mom told us about the day she lost her entire troll doll collection (tragic!).

And I got packages from two of my high school teachers. I am so well taken care of it’s ridiculous.

I have physical therapy this morning with someone new. Home physical therapy, so far, means someone, who usually works with 80 year olds, throwing my leg around with zero regard (until I get grumpy), but then giving me “exercises” like twirling my wrists (which I refuse to do). I’m not exactly excited, but maybe this person will be better. I also realize that I am approximately the most irritating patient ever. (I am not washing my hair until after she leaves.)

I can now bend my knee 70 degrees but I don’t really sleep anymore. One of my favorite people broke up with her boyfriend yesterday, and it reminds me that everything is just breathing and waiting and leg books. My mom is reading Twilight in plaid pajamas.

Being immobile sucks – let’s be clear. I am infinitely, infinitely grateful for not being on chemo (yet; cross fingers for Monday pathology report) and I am not dead yet (which is good) and I still have two legs (usable or not; okay, negative). But this does not change the fact, that being immobile with progress largely based on how well one has figured out how to wash one’s hair (at least I have hair) is: soul-numbing-ly sucky. I stare out the window with the cat most of the day (it’s true) waiting for liberation.

But, speaking of progress, the Im successfully engineered a new way to wash my hair while on the couch. I think this is amazing and could catch on across the world. You can continue watching TV AND wash your hair at the same time. There is, of course, a remarkable shortage of Im’s (sad world!) which could prevent widespread conversion. I am also saving the environment one shower-not-taken at a time.

Besides staring out the window, I have been reading self-help blogs (aka worlddomination.pdf – not joking) and wearing snap pants and fuzzy socks every day (sometimes the same ones for many days because I am saving the environment; sometimes backwards unintentionally). I have received a card from my aunt and uncle with an animal on it every day for the last three days. I have found that I am still fully capable of mixing cookie dough. I took a picture of my 12 inches of stitches for posterity and it looks approximately terrifying on the camera vs. from my standard aerial view. I have a ruler imprinted on my leg. What happens after that?

Only SK knows, and cat …

… really doesn’t care so I think maybe I’ll take my lead from Abby and watch an entire season of L Word today. Maybe Lost.

I’m being slowly nudged off my pain medication. My pain medication feels very cozy and I would like to keep it. But apparently, I don’t need it. Someone mentioned switching to Tylenol. I scoff at Tylenol. (But okay.)

My knee has accomplished 60 degrees bend. 30 more degrees to go. Don’t ask me what happens at 90 degrees – I have no idea. But something happens. Only God (Sloan Kettering) knows. I am five. I have mad growing pains.

At SK they always ask: how are you feeling? “Fine.” On a scale of 1 through 10, with 10 being unbearable pain, how are you feeling? I have learned there is objective pain, and then there is bravery. This morning I am 2 on pain, 6 on wuss, waiting for my hardcore to wake up.

Now that I sleep with the huge CPM (knee bending) machine, the cat has decided she belongs on my stomach. Yesterday I spent most of the day with the cat, reading the Open Road. I just finished Eat, Pray, Love which is a lovely, lovely book – in the hospital everyone had read it or was reading it so people would stop by just to talk about it. I like when you read a lot and the act of reading itself becomes nice – like meditation – so that the content becomes almost secondary.

I watch things with my mom – Bones and Alias. Documentaries: Food Inc. (super creepy amazing), Yes Men Fix The World (Christmas present from my brother!). Episodes of Rachel Maddow. We watch in a long line – me, madre, and Im on the couch, the cat in her basket.

Today I will wash my hair. In the hospital, my favorite nurse, Cherry, washed my hair for me and it was better than every hair salon. Dreams: 1) run 2) shower. This is another one of those never-ending Kim-camps-alone moments.

I am like an old person. I have a walker. I have a pill regimen.

But while in SK, I stayed in pediatrics (because all people with low-grade osteosarcoma under 30 go to peds). Two clowns made me a square bubble – really the most amazing thing EVER. A man with purple rimmed glasses and a gray beard taught me to meditate (my mom snored, but only at all best moments.) The candy cart came around on Fridays (so clutch). And I had a Smithie for an occupational therapist who told me about her hip-hop dancing failures, New Moon-watching, and how much she wished she’d made all the gadgets I was going to use to get on my sock.

Orthopedics visits were like interrogations. 7 am, brights lights – bam, eight anonymous heads, rip off tape, pull out cords, pummel with vague future events, while scary botox woman drones inane questions from the foot of the bed (“can you walk?”). “questions?” – .

Food came by room service from my fancy room service menu. I ate a lot of pudding. It was exciting. So many presents like elementary school when you’d have those big parties with party bags and hats and cake and ice cream, including: chocolate covered sunflower seeds (in a giant sunflower container). Vitamins. Chinese noodles. Puppets. And long gray socks. People traveled great distances to come visit me ever day.

Basically I am now officially the most spoiled person ever, I am having age identity issues, and, due to extended hospital stay, I have not one bit of remaining modesty. Someday I will take great photos of all the crazy things I have to help me function – like, my claw, and the massive knee bending machine I have to use 12 ridiculous hours a day.

Things my mom says: “You can use your toes almost as good as an ape”

While lifting a chair, apparently with some level of expertise, over my head “Liooon Tammmeeeeer.”

My mom gives shots better than the nurses. What a pro, seriously.

Last week my mom spontaneously decided to go to California to learn reiki from my aunt. My mom is fabulous. She comes back tomorrow. And tomorrow is my last day of work. She’s so positive – my nurse called me last week to tell me that I have a nodule on my thyroid (I mean really – a nodule). My response: tell doctors everywhere to go fuck themselves. My mom: let’s go eat dinner. I am working on this.

Thursday they’re taking my knee and over a third of my femur. (Mostly I’m still upset about the nodule.) I am pretty excited by the hardcore scar I’m going to have. Music therapy. Receiving Dalai Lama books in the mail. My mom (in case that wasn’t clear). Visitors, and borrowing other people’s moms. Reading in my pajamas for a month (Don brought me Three Cups of Tea and Freakonomics today. Jerry said “Three Cups of Tea with MUSLIMS“). Pain. I think I’m a little twisted and maybe it’s some sort of morbid coping mechanism. I even feel legitimately thankful that someday I can amputate this shit and take my metal running.

I just want to be half as brave as all the other anonymous people passing through the Sloan Kettering void. I have motivation but no idea what to do with it. I guess 1) get the the fuck out of the hospital 2) bend knee.

Today I visited the outside world.

It was bright (and cold) (but nice).

I think I drink more with my aunt and uncle than with anyone else.

(I had the lobster.)

My new computer has an SD card slot.

I found this picture of my dad’s dog being ridiculously long on Christmas Day.

I have plans.

I saw Yes Men Fix The World, finally, with B. I am sort of in love with them. B wore a sweater that came with 3D glasses. We went to Joe’s, which is still an incredibly lovely place, so I am happy.

For Im’s birthday, we are going on shopping sprees (plural) in which I make Im buy things, and then buy the same things for myself (force Im to buy a coat, buy Kim a coat; force Im to buy a dress, buy Kim a dress). I am very excited and so I have decided to make this a two weekend event starting this Sunday (it is on the calendar).

We are also going to see Cat Walleck in Royal Family on Broadway which is crazy (on Saturday and also on the calendar).

I think I am becoming even more sentimental with age. And when I am not overcome with love for everything moving or otherwise, indiscriminately, I am inevitably flinging righteous anger equally without discrimination. I think this frightens the new Quality Manager. But I like him a lot. (Just like everything else moving or otherwise.)

Norm quit and his last day was Friday. We went to Baja Fresh (his fav) with Don, and the lab, on Wednesday and Norm drove me in his tiny, run down truck with the Navy stickers on it. I wish he’d come back (but I’m keeping his desk). I am now, officially, the highest position in QC lab which will make me laugh until I quit too.

We went to DC two weekends ago. It was perfect. All the photos are here (every time you see four photos of the EXACT SAME THING you can pretty much assume I took them. Thus, I did not take the photo of my foot, nor does my foot have any recollection of that night, but I did take photos over and over of my cat) so please go be a creepy stalker because you know I would.

The end!

tea

care packages

pumpkin (we made pumpkin spice lattes the other day and I think, if you actually like pumpkin spice lattes, you would like this recipe because I do not like pumpkin lattes and I almost really liked it, except for that bit where the coffee clashed disgustingly with the pumpkin)

cinnamon

rain-cold-dark-doom

hitchcock movies (current: Foreign Correspondent; ordered Rebecca in honor of Marissa and because it’s a fucking good movie)

walking to the library

alias grace

running

god (jerry says there’d be no values without christianity – i say even for christians, values come down to personal choice, personal interpretation. i read one section of the bible last year, so year 2 – exodus.)

re-decorating the apartment (today we bought picture frames)

lotion

I made an attempt to start looking at the pile of recommendations I have accumulated. I now have 6 books, 1 tv series borrowed + 3 tv series recommended, and 3 movies. 3 movies down from 4 because this week I FINALLY watched Control Room (which Alex sent me approximately a century ago). Intense but amazing – all about propaganda, Al-Jazeera, the Bush administration, etc. etc. Lovely after months of mind-imploding conservative prejudice (= Quality lab).

I am thinking maybe I’ll actually read something I’ve borrowed…after Commencement…

Im studied GRE words while I did things that entirely lacked purpose such as reading the Prisoner of Zenda (which, of course, was from the library – not from my pile of recommendations, and most definitely not from my 2 bookshelves of unread books) about swashbuckling men who rescue damsels in distress as a sideline to gallantly saving the world.

Ran outside on the path by the ocean which is always incredible. Atlantic Highlands flea market had no good books to add to my unread piles. Walked the boardwalk with Uncle Jim and Aunt B post-free lunch (yay for family). Melinda moved to Jersey so we had cheesecake and went on an excursion to Target for toothpaste, dental floss, and other related dental products.

I watched Rachel Maddow a lot. I wore closed toe shoes.

It’s fall.