Its about the littlest thing you can break. I said to the doctor, do we treat this or let it go? She said. “Oh yes we treat it.”
So i have a “cast” on it, an aluminum spongy stick that conforms to the finger and the side of my hand, held on by tape. Its a littke awkward, but effective. Tbe first thing i noticed is that this small injujury is a big problem. *Ouch” i crid out a number of times in between leaving my doctors office last Friday, and getting into ny car. It is painful. It had swelled up and was turning black and blue. It is right next to the only other injury i have evet had to be treated for: on Mothers day 2012 i fell on a glass bottle, which shattered, and sliced open the ball of my hand on the same side as this broken finger. That goes to speak for my sedentary life style through the sexual injury not once but twice.
No. Im lying. 2 years ago, before the overdose, i broke my little toe and sprained my ankle. I think. I dont remember it clearly. It was because of my downstairs neighbors. They were complaining that i WALKED TOO LOUDLY and i broke my toe and had another injury catching my toe on the foot of the futon couch trying to slow my gait to walk more softly. And they STILL harassed me. This slowly ground down to the deep paranoia of the suicide attempt. I should go back to them and sue their homeowners insurance.
So anyway a little injury can cause serious problems but at the very same time–for that very same reason–can work toward the good. The Lord encouraged me to let it work for tbe good–this little injury to my finger and even as he spoke it to me in my mind i saw that it already had.
So i was emailing my ex husband, texting my son, and posting here yesterday all the way through my sons first car buying experience; im not going to talk about it other than that. Except to say that King Solomon assisted in the matter of my mothers ill feasance with respect to claiming the use of my car in a secret meeting with ny father and my son. This went HARD on me through that slight injury; and this substantiates my claim that the injury to one nerve or bunch of sexual/urological nerves could slow me down considerably; and the original injury of being kneed in the crotch by my brother could have slowly caused exhaustion such as the experience of catastrophic depression in my very early twenties just ad i have szid. Its ME that has to lnow it– there us nobody else to speak to this. Ironically the fall i took (did i write about this? I dont think so) happened right outside the doors of the new counseling center in the “City if S” (not its real name) that i am going to because the present (or past) group doesn’t take me seriously on the significance of the sexual injury to my diagnosis and treatment. At the new center which i think may are state sponsored–i was referred there by a state agency– they asked some good questions and they are located only a couple of miles from the scenes of my trauma in the “City of S.” 32 years ago.
I tealize now how handily the Lord has worked me through all this. My mother and sister are at bay; its POSDIBLE that my ex husband and i msy be communicating again. The car mayter is fonslly settled; and the Lord has ALREADY shown me a purpose in editing my book -my NEW BOOK, “Every Cloud”–on the computer with a broken finger–in that regard, it is avserious injury.
As for “California, a Pro-life Novel,” it has experienced a further delay, but for the last time, God willing.