Today, I had some weeds to scrape out of some cement. Simple?
The first issue is that I am not alllowed to use appropriate tools to do the job. Something like a shovel is too sharp, so I had to find a near-blunt scrapey thing which didn’t count as a sharp tool, and use that for sraping the weeds out of the cement.
The second issue is that even with a convenient-length tool, putting the effort in to scrape maybe 30 or 40 small stems out of cement pathways is, well, exhausting. I’m very glad that Mardie donated us an exercise ball, because it means that I have (non-sharp) tools for disentangling my backbone afterwards. The real, inside damage of having headbutted stuff at tens of kilometers per hour is starting to show through.
The third issue is picking up the scrapees. No way, end of story. Too much pain to make the job worthwhile. So — I tried a stiff broom... and after another exercise-ball session, I have some of the weeds tidied away.
The fourth issue is making healthy people understand that without beating or slicing any of me up, I hurt. Extensively. They/we simply cannot wrap their heads around the idea.
The fifth issue is that telling the Beer Joke to a set of three femmes makes me hurt more.
However... I am alive, talking, typing and (more or less) walking, which is (I am told) streets ahead of being DOA or some random flavour of vegetable. So — pain and all — it’s still a big win.