Drain ditch v Me - I'm 0-3

So here's the situation.

I was taking my dogs for the evening walk along the drain ditch.  I was tremendously pleased to be doing so since I have been in unbearable freaking agony the last few days.  But I felt a bit better today, didn't stay in bed all day, ate regular meals and didn't puke them back up.  The dogs were thrilled to be going on a walk and I was thrilled to be taking them.  Even Spotty came - without an ongoing pep talk and her going home halfway through.

Upon closer inspection, the g.d. hand lines were watering as much of the drain ditch road as they were the sugar beets.  But I could see dry land ahead, all I had to do was make it through maybe 100 yards of soggy.

The first time I fell wasn't too bad.  I didn't even swear.  I just took off my shoes, left them on the bank, and continued down the road... very carefully.

The second time I fell it was more like I was sliding into home plate.  Then I laid there, on my stomach in the mud (iPod safely tucked away inside my bra, whew!) and started thinking.  I had three choices.  I could (a) just stay there in the mud, which was admittedly tempting until Sully started licking my face; (b) pull myself up and crawl home; or (c) pull myself up and keep going.

I was pretty mad by this point.  I was head to toe covered in sludgy clay mud, a very special variety unique to this part of Idaho, I believe.  My linen skirt was soaking and likely staining.  And my glasses were wet because undoubtedly I was continually pelted with cold water from the g.d. hand lines.

So I was going to have my walk.  I walked to the end of the road in my muddy, bare feet, stood there with my hands on my hips feeling victorious, and then picked my way home, grabbing my muddy flip flops on the way.

My dad came out to help me get my dogs tucked in for the night, just wonderful and trying very hard to help someone still too mad to be helped.

I rinsed off in the hose and was surprised when I got in the tub by how much mud was still caked on my legs and arms.  My clothes are in the wash, hopefully coming clean because I really freaking like that skirt.  And now I am reclining in bed thinking, maybe, just maybe being stubborn for the sake of stubborn may not have been the best idea.  I feel like I just took some falls by the drain ditch.  But I have a doctor appointment tomorrow with Dr. B and I am thrilled.

So fine.  I may be 0-3, but this isn't over.  Not by a long shot.

PS I am still in that place with writing where I can't make myself stop, I can't take time to even go to the bathroom until it's kidney failure urgent, and even now with pain radiating through my toes, all I want to do is write.  This is amazing to be in this place with this work.  I am so, so grateful.  And I would fall in the mud ten times a night if it meant I could keep doing this thing that I love so dearly.