I fucked up my hip somehow.  I don’t know if I sat on it wrong, or slept on it wrong, or what, but it is amazingly painful to sit down, or stand back up, or lay down, or even walk most of the time.  Falling asleep with my 25+ lb cat sleeping on my legs was probably a bad idea.  It was also probably a bad idea to walk for 2 hours when it was already hurting a bit, its been a lot worse since then, but I really needed to do some sort of exercise as I feel completely disgusting, and a 50 degree night in February was too much to pass up.

One of my grandfather’s legs was a bit shorter than the other, and he was too vain to wear shoes that would compensate for this, so over the years his hip deteriorated more and more to the point where standing up was a few minute long affair that was obviously horrible for him.  He also turned down a hip replacement as he was somehow continually convinced that miraculous healing was going to occur.  I must admit that I’m somewhat convinced that my hip will soon be miraculously healed as well, but if its like this in another week or so, I’ll begin thinking about talking to some sort of doctor about it.

The idea of miraculous healing was a strange enough one to try to understand, especially as it spread generationally down from my grandfather, even without experiencing a little of what it was like to live with the constant pain he did.  Understanding what it takes to maintain  that belief through decades of continual pain is not something I can do.