The dirst whispered, "Child, I'm coming home." (Day 92)

Lately I cut my hair really short. For a while, I decided it'd be a great idea to go with a mohawk, but two days later I decided that really wasn't something I wished to pursue. So at this point, I'm very close to being bald.

I've never cut my hair this short before, I kind of like it. It's a nice transition, I think, into maybe becoming a *gulp* adult.

In the upcoming weeks, a lot will be happening. In two weeks I go in for an MRI on my knee in Phoenix, which is noteworthy in itself because it's the first procedure I've ever had, besides the actual surgery itself years ago, that took place outside of this city I live in/near.

I'm worried about the surgery afterwards, though.

I keep remembering back to the time after my initial surgery, and how completely useless I felt. If I were a horse, they would have shot me.

One of the cool things about the surgery was the pain killer ball they attached to my knee, inside the incision, along with the pain killers they prescribed me.

But the painkiller ball was interesting. It was filled with what I was told was a very low dose of morphine that would inject itself slowly throughout the course of a week without me noticing at all. So that, coupled with the painkillers they gave me...yeah, I don't remember much.

I remember though, having to sit on a chair for two weeks. Going to the bathroom was nearly impossible because every step I took felt like a nightmare come true.

It's funny, though. Rizzo, my cat, he never left my side the entire time. He's truly not like any other pet, let alone cat, I've ever seen before. Any one who has spent an extended time with him would agree with that, too.

But he'd be sleeping on the footstool, and I'd get up, and it'd take 15 minutes to get to the bathroom 10 feet away, and when I'd come back, that morphine ball would swing, and he decided it was his new toy. He pulled it out once, and I thought the world had ended.

But sitting there, I felt so useless. It reminded me about one of the worst things in my childhood.

I have a back condition that has no name, and no way of treatment. The only way I can explain what it is, is that, and thankfully this hasn't happened in years, I would be struck with temporary paralysis from the waist down. The rest of my body would radiate with these waves of tremendous, and blinding pain. I'd feel the crack in my back, and I'd black out.

One time it happened at a hotel in Tucson, and I blacked out longer than I remember it ever really happening. The last thing I really remembered was that I'd had back surgery, and was now in a hospital bed.

Every single joint and nerve ending in my body swamped me with pain. Even my tongue hurt.

Every drip of the IV was blinding, and for about two weeks I just laid there in pain.

And thats what worries me about now. At least when my knee gives out, a few days later I can kind of walk again, and even though it hurts, I'm not immobile.

But this worries me. Because the injury has progressed into something entirely worse than before. I'm not looking forward to this whatsoever.

In other news...

You may have noticed that today theres been some very slight and subtle changes to Days Gone By. Over the course of a week or so, I plan on making transitions from colors, to even a new template perhaps. Let me know what you think of the new changes.

-Until tomorrow.