Umm . . .

So, I could explain that the reason I've not been blogging is that I'm trying to improve the dexterity and reduce the nerve damage in my left hand by typing two-handed, the right way, and that it is so hard that it makes me crazy. Or, I could blame it on the periodic problems I've been having each day with severe spasming in my back muscles, which makes it nearly impossible to sit upright in one place long enough to complete a blog posting.

Both of those things are true, but I also have to admit they're not the real reasons Scott House has been silent on Blogspot. Unfortunately, I seem to have succumbed to yet another symptom of pregnancy (it is one, you can look it up) -- I have lost the capacity for abstract thought. If you've read my blog over time, you know that it doesn't take much to develop enough of a train of thought to give coherence to a simple blog posting. But even that minimal skill has evaded me lately, every time I've sat down to think about blogging. I'm a little surprised I managed to come up with a posting about my inability to post.

Therefore, I'm not really going to try, at least not right now. I'll simply report, for those of you who use the blog to keep up with my health and situation: I've got these crazy powerful back spasms going on, and really no improvement in my left hand (or my left tricep, which oddly is another isolated casualty of my spinal cord injury). My eyes are in pretty good shape, my walking is still a little spastic and a little wobbly, but slowly getting better. My baby girl appears happy and active -- she is shoving and jumping and doing the mambo in there, and she appears to be undergoing a rapid growth spurt. I'm almost afraid to look in the mirror when I walk past one, because I swear the belly grows an inch in circumference every time. In general, I am doing pretty well, looking forward so much to meeting her and to the possible end of most of these crazy symptoms, and grateful for all my friends and family, and especially my hubby, who are helping me get through it all.

OK, my fingers are hurting, my back is starting to scream, and . . . what was I going to say?