Getting There Slowly

I have started to take care of my 2 ½ year old niece again after an eight week Summer break. Her mom's a teacher, and school has started again this week with the need for staff to report in and prepare for the kids to return on Monday. I take care of my niece for the better part of the work day from Monday through Friday. I must admit, as corny as it may sound, that I fall a little more in love with her each day. She has gotten more active with age, but she's a really good kid and doesn't challenge me with her behavior (much). Today I took her sixteen year old sister out for breakfast and a little shopping as an end of the Summer treat. We have always been close and I enjoyed spending a little bit of time with her this morning.

I'm sitting here on my couch now while watching a Red Sox game and hoping that they don't embarass themselves the way they did last night in Toronto against the Blue Jays. YYYYeah...

The reason that I'm sitting here (aside from the game) is that my body has been hurting the past few days. I'm thinking that part of the current level of aches and pains is related to the fact that I've been busy keeping up with my niece again. This morning would have been rest time, but I needed to take her sister out. The activity this week seems to have taken a bit of a toll on my body. All in all it seems that my body keeps telling me that time is winding down toward the inevitable need for surgical work to be done on my knee, or hip, or arm...or a combination of the list. I always hate to admit it, but the aftereffects of my accident injuries are getting worse with time. The changes can be very subtle, but they are undeniable. The thing is that the pains that I feel within my body are not dramatic at all. They're more of an annoyance. That in itself makes it more...annoying. I think that I could deal more effectively with any pain that actually caused me to shout a little. My pain, however, just exists in a way that serves to taunt me. It exists to remind me that things aren't quite well, and that I'm not going to be allowed to avoid hindrances today, or surgery in the future. I get so tired of watching it all unfold slowly with time. It's like watching a slasher film in which the main characters hope that they'll survive throughout each scene, but you know better concerning the end of the movie. 

This whole process is so very slow, although I get the feeling that when the inevitable need for surgery arises I'll be thinking that it came too quickly.