The past few days have been overcast in the evenings, making it seem that dusk is earlier than it is. It has rained some, and I think that it’s going to rain more.

I didn’t go riding today, it being a Tuesday, the busiest day of the Bright Lights Book Project week. I would not have been able to go riding anyways. Last night I rolled on my side and felt, in my hip region, that very familiar pain. It was so strong that I began screaming. Pete came upstairs and assisted me in getting into a position that was less painful.

It was a very long night, what with me attempting to find a position that I could sleep in. I dozed some, then repeatedly moved into a position that was less painful.

I dreamt that I was riding Raudi uphill, and that she collapsed and died. I think this had to do with my concerns yesterday, about pushing her too hard up the Bench Trail. Well, she got a day off while I convalesced. Convalesced generally is thought to mean hang out and don’t do too much. But for me (in this particular instance), the term means keep moving and do as much as I can.

I didn’t make it to my senior reading group meeting, but I did make it to the senior center, in time to pass out books and pick out my commodities, two cans of salmon and some Provolone cheese slices. Good to see friends.

I had a hard time moving the book bins into and out of the senior center. I was, at that point, walking hunched over, in the L position.

I had scheduled an appointment at the chiropractic office, and I was there on time. Dorothy, the receptionist, said that I looked awful. I replied that I thought I looked great. And at the point, I was fairly chipper, all things considered.

I told Dr. Joe that I thought that I hurt myself by reefing on Tyra’s saddle, in an attempt to get it back in place. He was immediately all business. He asked me to lie on his adjustable table, but the pain was so intense that I could not do this. So he had me turn over and he did a few other adjustments.

I sensed that Dr. Joe was frustrated with me and thought that I should have known better than to attempt to adjust the saddle the way I did. When he was done, he hustled me out the door. I didn’t even get to tell him that I have vowed to do things differently, meaning I will get out of the saddle if it goes cattywampus and adjust the rigging.

I did go to work. I was (in Dr. Joe’s words) stove up, but as the afternoon progressed, I got increasingly more mobility.

I’m going to work at keeping this from happening again.

Next: 180. 7/3/24: A letter to Eleanor