A Co-Worker Told Me I'm Pale

Someone at work today said I looked pale. Everyone I work with is pale. I'm serious. Everyone. I really need some sun.

There's a slight possibility that I've crossed the line with my picture taking. It obviously annoys Brooke and my doctors.

I don't care.

When I have a son, who will be named Megatron, these pictures will help teach him a lesson about why you should always wear a helmet while snowboarding.

For the first time in a long time, there's not a whole lot that appears to be different between my ankles. I'm not sure if I've lost any of my tibia malleolus (the bumps on on the inside of your ankle). There's still quite a bit of swelling around that area.

My right leg looks like it's of normal size. It's a trick. It's still smaller than most 2-year-old's legs.

Like I've always said, I can heal with the best of them. The wound is doing great. It's definitely not 1.5 centimeters deep now. I'd say 0.3 cm now.

This is what iodosorb ointment looks like. Mud. We finally got some Monday. I'm not sure how this is clean or good for me. After about an hour, it feels like an extremely upset wasp is trapped in my wound.

We see The Closer tomorrow for my weight bearing evaluation. We had originally set this date last month before we found an infection. There's a chance that tomorrow I'll be permitted to put some weight on it for the first time since the accident. I won't be walking -- yet. I'll still be on the crutches, which I'm awesome at now.

Brooke and I decided that once I'm normal again, we'd buy some bikes and use that for my exercise. So to prepare for that, I bought a shirt on Ebay.

Don't be jealous.

I got another gift package from Egypt.


Jim thinks he's funny.