I have been going to physical therapy as of late, and whoa, it's no walk in the park (which isn't really fun yet either). It makes me feel like such a whimp... well, not me per say, all name calling is designated to the whimpyness of a few pesky joints. But I guess it's not their poor little fault either, they were attacked... *dramatic pause*... by some rouge immunity cells. But then again the immunity cells didn't mean any harm by it either, they were just doing their job, defending their honor etc, albeit with mixed up instructions about their target. And who mixed up their instructions? Who knows! And beyond that it just gets too complicated to track down a culprit, so for the sake of simplicity I am declaring all parties absolved of guilt, and shall heretofore not be held liable for damages nor be referred to as whimps though I reserve the right to wrinkle my nose at them on occasion. I have spoken.

Gosh I'm so easily distracted, back to physical therapy. Well, the nice physical therapist kept demonstrating seemingly simple exercises.

Step onto the block, step off of the block.

Lean on the wall, roll back onto your heels, lifting your toes as high as you can.

Stand on the board, tip toes forward, then heels back, then side to side.

10 wrist curls with the rubber band.

Stand on one foot for 30 seconds, holding a bar for balance. Switch.

I am totally capable of doing all of those very simple things with ease, theoretically. I was not prepared to break a sweat, or to be pep talking my ankles. "Left ankle, you are a rockstar! Right ankle, you are a redheaded step child."

Wow, in retrospect, that sounds so mean to my right ankle... okay, I'm going to go try and sweet talk my ankle now.

I am losing my mind!!

Yes, I am losing my mind! Not in terms of sanity, that comes and goes with lovely hormones, and steroids, and the occasional sleep deprivation, and having 4 kids by golly! When I say I am losing my mind, I mean the part of it that I heavily rely on in order to think and function.

Exhibit A

Time: 4 years ago

Place: At church in Georgia

Evidence: I was standing in the hallway talking with some other ladies about official church stuff when Jason came around the corner and asked if Diego had come my way. He saw me in the middle of a discussion , said "Oh." and went the other direction. A couple minutes later, when the conversation was over and Jason had not returned with Diego I decided to see if he had wandered into choir practice, so I popped my head in and asked a friend if she had seen Diego. She looked at me with a strange expression, paused a second, then pointed to the left of me. Sure enough, there in my left arm was Diego. And on my face: an embarrassed blush, and in my brain: not much apparently.

Exhibit Y (Y stands for You don't even want to know how many times that stuff has happened)

Time: Earlier today

Place: My house

Evidence: Lets begin with a question. What is worse than getting everyone in the car only to realize your keys are NOT in your purse, and then remembering exactly where you last saw them in your now locked house? I'll tell you what's worse: Having your hubby walk home in the rain to open the house, while your friend takes your children to school for you, and then and only then realizing your keys are... in your pocket.

SHEESH!!!

What do you do when your brain stops being reliable, and all of your contingency plans for the situations that may arise also depend on A FUNCTIONING BRAIN?!?!

I'm chalking this up to yet another reason why I'm going to be really excited when that old Resurrection rolls around. I was already looking forward to being flawless, preferably size 12, with hair unaffected by humidity (Its not like I actually know what that"Resurrection" package specifically entails but in terms of frizziness, I'm allowing myself come creative license okay?).

And then more recently it occurred to me that the irreversible, incurable, and fairly annoying rheumatoid arthritis will be cured AND reversed. SWEET!!! All that stuff I mentally prepared myself to never do again can be amended to "Not for a while" instead of "Never again" which is obviously so much better.

And Now: A brain in consistently, good working order is sounding pretty darn good too.