Brrr! It's Cold in Here!

It's been said if you don't like the weather in Cincinnati, wait ten minutes and it will change. I suppose that explains the sudden drop in the temperature over the last few days. I swear it was just a week or two ago that I was running my air conditioner, and now I'm pulling out the extra blankets and listening for the familiar sound of the furnace kicking on.

Unfortunately, last night I was listening in vain. Guess whose furnace wouldn't light?

Not that it's a huge deal. After seeing the size of my Cinergy bills last winter, I had already planned on waiting until the last possible moment to turn on the heat. (Especially since I'm still being bombarded with doctors' bills that I have no idea how I'm going to pay.) I have sweaters. I have blankets. I have the Ugliest Comforter in the World. My downstairs neighbor also likes to keep the temperature in her apartment at sauna level, so that helps as well.

I wasn't aware of the problem until I got home last night. I'd returned from my first physical therapy session and was opening the latest bill-I-can't-pay when there was a knock at my door. My landlady was standing in the hallway, wearing flannel pajama pants with a thermal shirt and a flannel men's shirt over the top of it. (And yes, everything she was wearing clashed horribly. It's good to know that I'm not the only one who goes for comfort over fashion; some of my "loungewear" ensembles look like they were assembled by a colorblind schizophrenic living in a dark, dark cave.)

"Is your heat on?"

I explained that I hadn't even tried to turn it on yet. She fiddled with the thermostat. Nothing. "I'm trying to light the furnaces," she continued. "The first floor seems to be OK, but the second floor's not cooperating. I'll go try again."

She disappeared down the stairs. The next half hour consisted of her running upstairs to my apartment, turning the thermostat up to 80 degrees, cursing under her breath, and heading back to the basement to try again. Lather, rinse, repeat. On her last trip up the stairs, she brought a space heater.

"I don't know what's wrong. Yours is the only one that won't work. I'll try again tomorrow. And if it gets too cold, you can sleep in my living room."

I thanked her for her efforts and the space heater, which remained unused. I have an weird phobia about space heaters. I'm certain that as soon as I fall asleep, it will short circuit, catch the entire apartment on fire, burning me and the kitties to a crisp. (I think we've already established that I have irrational fears, right?) I settled for an extra blanket and a big mug of chai and fell asleep on the couch during the second quarter of the Packers game.

When I left for work this morning, it was 61 degrees in the apartment. The temperature is supposed to dip into the 30s on Wednesday night. Hopefully things will be fixed by then. I'm not looking forward to icing my ankle when I'm already shivering.

Speaking of the ankle, things are progressing slowly. I finally got the OK from my orthopedist to put weight on my right foot (with the boot and crutches), starting at 50% and eventually moving up to 100% without crutches. I'm at 100% with crutches at the moment, which means that I am allowed to attempt to drive my car this weekend. The emphasis is on the word "attempt" because I'm not too optimistic about my reaction times. My physical therapy session was pretty disheartening. The range of motion in my foot is pretty much shot.

Therapist: OK, now point your toes

Myopic: Um, I am pointing my toes.

Guess I won't be running off to join the ballet anytime soon. I don't think they'd want me anyway, given the fact that my legs are currently different sizes and my ankle is still considerably swollen. (Five centimeters larger than my left ankle, as a matter of fact. The therapist did some baseline comparison measurements yesterday.)

My physical therapy office is located in a Fitworks. I'm quite amused by the fact that they gave me a free 30 day membership to be used during my therapy. Yeah, like I'm going to be joining a Tae Bo class right now.

(Roger Mexico suggested that I should take up jogging or tennis. After I stopped laughing - me! jogging! - I explained to him that right now the thought of any high impact exercise terrifies me beyond belief. Even more than space heaters.)

I'm sure that I'll eventually make progress, but right now I feel even worse off than I did last week. At least then I knew what I could do and what I could not do. I'd come to terms with my limitations. Now all of the rules have changed, and I'm finding all kinds of new things that I should be able to do, but simply am not capable of doing. It's depressing as hell. (Add in a stack of bills equal to two month's salary that are due right now and other personal issues, and you get a full-blown panic attack. What a fun way to pass the time!)

So if you need me, I'll be hiding under a pile of blankets, feeling sorry for myself. At least I'll be warm.