My kingdom for clean hair, and an x-ray of my breast

Really, having a broken arm isn't that bad. I mean, it takes me a long time to dress myself....but I can! No complaints there. It's uncomfortable when I sleep, but I sometimes sleep through the night now, so again, no complaints. I do sneak upstairs into Allen's room and curl up next to him some nights, however. I just can't get comfortable downstairs, and he has more pillows than I do. It's a nice change of pace. But I digress.

My one complaint? I can't take a shower without help, and I DEFINITELY can't wash or style my hair. That makes me feel subhuman. The girl who colors my hair made me an offer I couldn't refuse, so she washes my hair for me twice a week. Those days are my favorites.

I miss taking photos. I can't hold my camera at all. Harrumph.

I suppose I actually could complain about quite a bit...but why? It doesn't change anything. I WILL say that the storms rolling through are doing a number on my arm. The pressure changes are not very friendly, and as a result, I'm spending my hours with percocets just so I can feel a normal amount of pain.

My staples are gone, though!

In which you can see Allen's lap, my plate and screws, and my breast in x-ray form:

Phase two in the Lady Deathstryke crossover: complete. My incision site looks pretty radical, as well, but I'll have to post that later. Blogger is proving uncooperative.

I can't type much more. It's painful. I start physical therapy tomorrow, and I'm fairly scared. BUT, I''m a tough old thing. I'll make it through with a smileon my face, even if I don't feel like smiling.