Of Knees and Friends

First, the bad news. Can you say "torn meniscus"? No? How about "medial collateral ligament tear"? One of those little terms is what happened to my knee. The treatment? Well, if it's the first, I get to have surgery. And if it's the second, I get to wear a brace for 6-8 weeks until it heals. That's 6-8 WEEKS PEOPLE! Prepare for bad language. I can't even begin to tell you how fucking depressing this is.

And just because it is that depressing, I absolutely refuse to get depressed about it. Because in my life the good news always outweighs the bad. So, here's the good news. One of my dear, dear friends had surgery for breast cancer yesterday. The surgery went well and there was no sign of cancer in her lymph nodes. Can you say, "Glory! Hallelujah!" Talk about perspective. I invite you to visit her at The Practical Vampire Slayer and send her all your good love and healing energy. This woman is practicing some principles that will work for anything. You don't want to miss out.

The cowboy (who just for the record was not the bad guy of the "Girl, you've been had!" post) came over last night, brought me dinner and had the good manners to make me totally forget for awhile that I'm in pain and can hardly walk. Then, this morning, he drove me around town to take care of errands that would've been a lot harder to do alone. These Montanan's - I swear, I want to be one of them.

Another dear friend has offered me a part-time job that will nicely supplement my income while I'm waiting for my real job to pick up again.

Tom, my co-worker and fellow deer slayer, picked up Kisster's medicine for me and then attempted to engage in some cock blocking with the cowboy which was absolutely entertaining for me.

I'm the proud new owner of a cast iron skillet bestowed upon me by a member of my writer's group as well as some vintage glass and pottery that I couldn't afford, but that magically appeared on my front porch along with a "paid" receipt. That friend with breast cancer? She also left me a container of wonderful soup before her surgery.

It is my sincere hope that I will be judged in heaven (or wherever the hell I end up) by the friends I have in this life.