Dream Logging

I don't usually write about my dreams, but this time... I need to remember this one, and the last time I had the other dreams in this... series, I guess, just the act of writing them down cemented them in my memory.

So. Last night I dreamed about Fox again. In the start of the dream, it was mostly setting the scene - umbran and I were somewhere, and Fox was there with us, but that wasn't the main part of the story.

From there, we went to visit a friend. Noone I know in waking life; just someone my dream put up as a Generic Friend. And Fox was there, too, inside his house. The friend said that he was a tame fox that he had found and domesticated, that lived in his house. Part of me knew he was my Fox too, but I didn't really think about that much. I just kind of flopped on the floor next to him, to pet him and play with him and enjoy the fact that he was there.

And we were just playing around, almost like I would with any dog, and he wound up on his back. And I was petting him, and play-wrestling with him a little... and he bit my hand. Not hard, not with intent to injure or maim; it was almost more like my hand got stuck in his mouth and on his teeth. I had to open his mouth to get my hand out, and once I did, and washed it off, the bite wasn't too bad, but it was kind of worrisome that it had happened in the first place.

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I'm not quite sure what this means. Honestly, more than anything I'm just glad to be seeing Fox in my dreams again - it's been way the heck too long. But if he's trying to tell me something, I want to know what my take-home lesson is supposed to be.....

Bad Luck

Apparently, this is my punishment for not being overly fond of my body - it's not overly fond of me, either. To the point that, as best as anyone at the emergency room can figure, I managed to tear the meniscus in my right knee while standing completely still.

I have no idea how I managed to do this, but there's nothing else that could be going on that I, or the attending doctor, can think of that would cause these signs. I can't straighten my leg. I can't bear *any* weight on it. Trying to do either results in stabbing, horrendous, blacking-out pain. X-rays are normal, every bone is intact and in place.

I've got an appointment with an orthopedic surgeon on Tuesday, and I'm on crutches and codeine and toxic doses of ibuprofen until then. Odds are it'll be another MRI, and then another knee surgery for me.

No more walking. No more yoga. No more dancing. At least I got a whole bunch of that in earlier this month. I'm not quite sure how I'm going to cook Thanksgiving dinner, but... I'll figure something out.

This is almost getting comic in the level of garbage that's getting flung at me. I'm not quite sure whether to sit down and cry or stand up and laugh like a loon and shout 'bring it on!'