I went back to the gym tonight, my body feeling decisively less shocky than it did for the past two days. Still, the workout was a fete of will. My body just didn't want to do it. Tonight my legs felt like lead. I wanted to quit, to just get off the machine and go home. I didn't. I stuck it out for the entire hour. Walking out the door I wondered "When does this start feeling good?" Sometimes I think that I've forgotten what feeling good feels like. I don't think I've ever felt like "Yeah, let's go get all sweaty and stinky, it'll feel great!"
On a brighter note, my thumb is healing well. It's looking less horrifying and throbbing less. I don't feel bad that I strong armed Dr. R into giving me antibiotics. Next time I go in I'll explain to him that I will respect his opinion on every other body part I have, but the lymphedemous arm, I will always over protect.