I Knew Better

I have a sore on my leg, and I have nobody else to blame but myself. It isn't too big, and hopefully I'll be able to manage with some blister band-aids and modifying my activities for a few days. Even though it isn't at the crisis point, I am alarmed that it is there and plan on taking care of it. After all, it is completely my fault that it developed.

Over the weekend we went to the pool.  Last summer I wasn't able to enjoy the pool, or summer for that matter, because of my multiple surgeries.  In my zeal to jump right into the fun, I disregarded the fact that I don't yet have a properly fitting prosthesis.  I managed to squeeze (quite literally) my leg into the least ill-fitting socket I had and vowed just to "suck it up."

Sometimes sucking it up isn't the best approach. I knew the leg hurt, but once I jumped in the water it didn't bother me as much.  At that moment, the discomfort was worth the benefits of playing with my boys and resuming "normalcy."

 I didn't feel the sore developing because my circulation was compromised, and my limb was numb. It wasn't until the second night that I noticed blood on my liner. I knew that I should have rested yesterday, but hosting the luncheon thwarted those plans. 

It's raining today which equates to a perfect day to play quietly inside with Timmy.  Hopefully some TLC and time will help my leg heal.  I'm still angry that this happened.  I've been an amputee for more than a decade, and I certainly know better!