2/18/14. The post where I compare friends and acquaintances.

2/18/14: day three of the latest rough period.  Pain is back down in the 7.5-8 range, but still feeling pretty rotten.  I had hoped the warm weather would bring some relief.  Clearly I don't have this figured out yet.

To make myself feel a little better, I wore a new dress to work.  I was a little concerned about how the geometric pattern would accentuate my ever-expanding curves, but decided to risk it.  I was walking in the hall this morning when two men rounded the corner behind me, deep in conversation.  I didn't catch the first part of it, but I clearly caught the end: "...it's nearly 25,000 pounds!"  Total coincidence, I know, but not what I needed to hear.  Think I'll put the dress away for awhile until I've lost a little weight.  Like 25,000 pounds.

Caught up with one of my oldest friends over drinks after work.  (Uh-oh, that didn't sound right.)  I mean, not a friend who is old, but a friend I've known for a really long time.  (Not sure that's much better.)  Let's just say it was a good friend.  Someone who's keeping up with my blog, so I didn't have to tell the long story, which is a relief.

I've been really struggling with how to interact with more casual acquaintances, people I don't see very often and don't know well enough to have given the gory details.  The conversation always starts out the same: "Oh look!  You are out of your cast! (Or boot, depending on how recently they've seen me.) How are you?"  It is always accompanied by a hopeful look, waiting for me to say, "I'm doing well! How are you?"  

Decision time.  I try to assess the situation before answering.  How much quiet, uninterrupted time do we have to talk?  Do I think they want to hear the real answer?  Do I want to develop a reputation as Debbie Downer, incapable of exchanging pleasantries?  It would be easier to answer, "I'm doing well!  How are you?"  But it wouldn't explain to them why I'm slow, grouchy, sleepy, and generally not myself.  More often than not, I try to split the difference.  "Still having some issues, but it sure is nice to be wearing matching shoes again!"  Leave 'em smiling.

Regardless of how I answer, it invariably ends with, "Glad you're getting better!"  Most people, like me, are optimists by nature and want to say something positive.  I'm sure I've said the same sort of thing to acquaintances in similar circumstances on plenty of occasions.  And I really do appreciate the sentiment.  I'm working hard in PT to walk "normally" and I no longer have a cast or a boot (or crutches or a knee-walker), so it probably does look like I'm getting better.  But I certainly don't feel better. At least, not yet.  

It really is nice to be wearing matching shoes, though.