As I found out when I had pneumonia, people with certain conditions aren’t as able to heal. I remain bruised. One of my eyes is a royal purple. My arms and sides hurt the most; they absorbed Maggie’s kicks. Randal asked me if I’m going to charge Maggie with assault; said he’d help me. The idea’s tempting, but Randal can’t drive and so can’t do the shopping. On a purely practical basis, it’s a bad idea. It’d bring the household to a halt.
The air in the house is stilted. I drag it through my teeth. Still working on that article. I do a little bit at a time. Soreness prevents me from going further. My rib feels better, so it isn’t broken. My arms are still badly bruised. Every little flex or tweak brings pain. I type as carefully as possible so I don’t have to delete and start again.