I had my quarterly appointment with Carmen so she can continue to prescribe the Ritalin. I spent part of the time talking about Mom's death, including how the trip had affected me physically, and specifically that my joints hurt much less than I expected given the amount of walking.
A bit later, the three of us went for a walk, and my knees started to hurt a little almost immediately, despite the precautionary naproxen. At that point, I realized that I walked a lot almost every day of the trip, but almost all of it was basically flat, long hospital and airport corridors.
A bit later, the three of us went for a walk, and my knees started to hurt a little almost immediately, despite the precautionary naproxen. At that point, I realized that I walked a lot almost every day of the trip, but almost all of it was basically flat, long hospital and airport corridors.
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If I hadn't been short on sleep and stressed for the entire trip to London, I might have made the connection sooner; we got back to Boston on Friday morning, and then I mostly stayed in the apartment Friday and Saturday.
[1] The house I grew up in was two blocks from the aptly named Hillside Avenue. My elementary school was a few blocks uphill, a nice easy walk. The subway station was a couple of blocks in the other direction, a shallower slope downhill: my parents picked the location so Dad could count on getting home from work on snowy days, even if the buses stopped running.