Guess which picture is not like the other...

Since I know that several casually following this blog have a slight interest in photography (granted, some more than others), I decided to include this quote I just heard which was quick to move to the top of my favorites:

"He never recovered his sanity. Luckily, he was a photographer, so it didn't matter much."

-Garrison Keillor

Now, down to buisness. Even though I received this latest update a couple of weeks ago, I haven't put it up yet, and for that I am truly sorry. Well, here goes: all new and improved.

Sorry about the crummy scanning. I have to admit, I am absolutely pathetic when it comes to scanners. But you get the gist. I promise, if I get a better scan, I will post it. I haven't gotten the chance yet, but the first chance I get, I'm going to see if I set off metal detectors. I have actually come across a half-chance to be wanded, but he passed me over because I was in a wheelchair, and late. :( I will find out though. Maybe after a second surgery...

I've started going to physical therapy twice a week. At first, they threw me on the hydrotrack, an underwater treadmill. Since the water lifts gravity's spell, people like me are able to walk without giving pause. When I told them that I remembered these vividly from when I was 3, even the physical therapists gave me a shocked look. Apparently, they don't get too many two year olds as candidates for surgery and recovery. Unfortunately, after only one appointment on the hydrotrack, I got kicked off. What got me kicked off? My height. The water needs to come up to a certain level for full effect, and apparently 5'8"ish is too tall for the machine. So I'm subjected to pool work only, which is actually kind of fun. My main therapist is a graduate from Harding, so we chat about former teachers and classmates that might have come back. Ironically, one of her best friend's is (former) Coach Myatt, now Coach Myatt Starks. When she asked if I knew Kevin Starks, I almost laughed, considering I was in his first and only 7am Bible class last year. An....interesting experience. Filled with Basketball talk, racist jokes (but only black and white people), and some very interesting glasses of sweet tea (right Melanie?).

The person who owns the first blogspot for hip dysplasia and PAO I looked at named her hip/leg Uber Uma. I remembered that. And though I have not named my hips - yet - despite yelling and thumping (not after the surgery, of course) and some more talking, I have named my modes of transportation. My wheelchair, because of its title: the Tracer SX5, has earned a name as Tracy. My walker is named Elsa, for no apparent reason at all, though it may be related to a very good book, Winter of Fire. I don't know. For now, I must bid you adieu (which is a really good word to use in scrabble or speed scrabble)!