Work It Out
I visited my new physical therapist today, a lovely woman named Sally who evaluated my back and shoulder pain resulting from my recent accident and concluded that indeed, I am fucked up (medical term).
She is putting in the paperwork for approval from worker's comp and hopefully by the time I come back from vacation, I'll be able to have regularly scheduled sessions that will make my half-dead and very sad arm work right again.
Speaking of vacation, Michael and Corazon joined me for dinner at home last night so as to bask in my glory before I am gone for nine long days. We had Tarantino's pizza (of course) and a bottle of 2005 Blackstone Merlot, which was quite decent. I do love a wine that compliments a pizza nicely. At any rate, we had a discussion as to whether a visit to family constitutes an actual vacation.
Michael came down firmly in the no camp, though admitting he isn't that close to his family. Corazon feels that neither visiting family nor attending a wedding can be classified as taking a vacation. I really think it depends on how much you like your family. I, for one, am kind of madly in love with mine, despite the fact they often drive me insane. (Can anyone drive you more crazy than someone related to you by blood?) I mean, come on, the ringtone for my sister Diana is How Sweet It Is (To Be Loved By You) by James Taylor and Sandy's is Superwoman by Alicia Keys. I'm obviously head over heels for these people.
Plus, I can't wait to surprise my mom and dad by arriving in time for Mother's Day - a secret all three of my siblings who live in Indiana are in on and have helped coordinate.
In addition, having a plethora of nieces and nephews makes my visits extra fun. What's more loveable than children who adore you, except for children who adore you and for whom you have no long-term financial responsibility? In fact, I've been thinking our family could use another baby, seeing as how our current "babies" are already over three years old. I'm ready for someone small and soft and new and helpless that smells like powder and lotion and sweetness. (Especially if I don't have to stay up with that someone while s/he cries all night.)
At any rate, for me, visiting family is a vacation. I miss them terribly all year, and it's the hardest thing in the world to leave them to come back home to real life. I can honestly say I've had days when I thank God for the blessing of my siblings, who have given me so much - they taught me to read, they gave me a sense of humor, they cheer me during my successes, and support me through my struggles.
We are completely different people and yet we all started off as little seahorses floating around in my mother's belly. It's odd to realize that no one else will ever get me the way they do; no one else will ever have that unbreakable connection to me. I can't imagine a life without them.
I'm definitely anxious to get back to California to start on the road to recovery with physical therapy, but I think my vacation with them will do more to heal my frazzled soul and frayed nerves than anything I could do here at home. I can't wait to see them.
