On the Angles of Ankles and Angels

When I wake up in the mornings, my right ankle has almost no mobility.  I get out of bed and stump around like a little old lady, because the joint is so damn stiff.  But then I run through a couple of (very careful) sun salutations, and that helps loosen it up to the point where I can walk like (almost) normal again.  I go about getting dressed, and Nathan heads downstairs to fetch me breakfast- which I need to eat before I can take my painkiller.  Last night was the last of my prescribed 800mg, so this morning I take 400mg, and steel myself for a more-aching day.

It's not so bad, actually- I get to work and kick up my feet (the boss is out of the office, which suits my gimpy self just fine) and study the difference between the two ankles:

(And then I draw an angel, because hell- why not?)

My right ankle probably would not look swollen to anyone who did not know what it looked like before, or if they did not have the left ankle to compare it to.  But swollen it is, and stiff, and still pretty damn colorful.

Less than two weeks before we leave for Ireland.  I am a bit... trepidatious.