The pain in my back has, generally speaking, subsided to the status of non-issue. And, of course, it's pathetically thrilling to be able to do normal things (I'm sitting upright! In a chair!) and even slightly beyond normal things (I went to the gym yesterday! For a whole half hour!). Sure, things are still a little tight and it catches me off guard on occasion (say, if I try to stand up suddenly), but more or less I'm back to normal.

Except that it's still too uncomfortable to do things that seem he althyand nice and not that physically demanding. Like jogging across Elm street when the light changes and there's four lanes of traffic whizzing towards you. Or cuddling. And then I get frustrated (I almost used the second person, as in "And then you get frustrated" but the whole point is that the experience isn't generalizable) and snappish at the person implicated (in this case, the drivers of all the cars who are trying to run me over or the able-bodied students skipping joyfully out of harm's way or the co-cuddler who is half-asleep and thus half-oblivious to my squirming).

And so the saga continues. No cuddling. And greater reliance on the good graces and brake pads of the people of New Haven.