I apologize for the late post today. I've been to the urgent care center. I hit my elbow a couple months ago and thought I'd bruised it. But it never got any better. In fact, my entire arm kept getting weaker.
I finally couldn't take it any more and went to the doctor today. I'd been putting it off because I was afraid the doctor would tell me I had to stop doing whatever was causing the strain (writing). During the month of May I had to rush to finish The Quick and The Thread. From the month of June until now (and counting), I'm rushing to finish Dead Pan.
I was worried I'd get a diagnosis of carpel tunnel, arthritis or something that might require surgery. As I stepped upon the scale at the doctor's office, visions of sugar plums (or, rather, cookies) danced in my head. [Cue the theme from Jaws.]
After an examination and an x-ray, the doctor relayed his diagnosis: lateral epicondylitis...better known as tennis elbow.
[Cue America, the Beautiful]
"Thank you so much," I told the doctor. "I was afraid you were going to tell me my condition was due to my being either too old or too fat."
But, nope, I have an athlete's injury.
America, America, God shed His grace on me...
And crowned me good with motherhood....
But I diet on Monday!
Happy Independence Day!