Enjoying myself

I have rarely relied on the kindness of strangers. Friends are another matter.

I enticed my parents to drive down to Kensington so they could enjoy watching dancing. The Gardiner Expressway was horrible and so we all got to listen to nearly half of the baseball game when we expected to arrive prior to the game's start.

Dad had no problem with the Hungarian crepes, which means we may yet eat there again.

He and mom left me free to drink sangria with a troupe of bellydancers; great way to spend a Sunday evening.

I did go to "Dracula's Daughter/DMMDI" to find a mostly empty building. Pink anime Karen showed up, as did Mark, and with Mark came Alice who wants to write for Morbid Outlook. She even offered the ability to write in French, but I think bilingualism is a future project rather than a present condition.

I did not stay out as late as I would even if I were heading back to Woodbridge, because when your host wakes up at 8 and you have to rush back home then rush back out again to the physiotherapist, sleep is useful the night before.

The Last Hurrah?

Early knee prognosis
Well, the news isn't so favourable for me. My physiotherapist strongly suspects this current problem to be a cartilage tear (meniscal) which is a different game than a minor MCL sprain. There is nothing he can do externally via massage.

I am keeping my mid-June doctor's appointment so as to arrange x-rays or whatever test will get a better look, but here we are looking at the difference between a small tear which can be managed with time, good nutrition, strengthening exercises and ultrasound therapy, or something larger which will require surgery. Let's not talk about the possibility of "degenerative fraying" or "complete cartilage loss" until someone with a medical degree brings it up, because I don't want to think about that until it's necessary.

Also, my left bicep soreness flared up again, but that's laughable in comparison.
( When the Blue Jays swept the Baltimore Orioles, was it the last hurrah? )