I used to love the night life, I used to boogie

I went out last night. I find that to be a really difficult thing to balance. If I don’t go out, I feel like a loser, and end up sitting home having a pity party all to myself. But if I do go out, it’s a ton of work. First of all, if the bar or restaurant doesn’t have low tables and chairs, I can’t stay more than half an hour. It’s hard to stand still for long amounts of time, and I can’t hang my leg down off a stool comfortably.

The place we were at last night did have low tables, so that was a good start. I didn’t do too badly until people started to get a little tipsy. First of all, I have to be careful how much I drink, because I need to stay in control of my body, physically. If I put the wrong pressure or step in the wrong direction, my knee buckles a little, and the pain is searing. In addition, drunk people are extremely sloppy. You can ask a person to stay clear of your knee, and they will, for about 5 minutes. Then something shiny (or sexy, or liquid) goes by, and they jump right up, land directly on your knee (ok, maybe just bump it) and tear off after the aforementioned shiny/sexy/liquid thing.

Also, there’s a bit of a mental challenge that goes with a night like that. It’s great to see friends, everyone is concerned, and asks a lot of questions. But somewhere around the 16th time I repeat what happened, what is going to happen during surgery, how long the recovery process is, why I can’t go to another event, etc, the weight of what is going on gets to me, and I generally burst out in tears. This is what happened last night. And again today in the kitchen with my roommate. And probably in about 30 seconds as I type this.