For months that I spent in a wheelchair, I dressed prettily the same every day: only 2 different warm pants and fleece cardigans/warm sweaters. I did not care about my appearance. I was clean, of course, washed every day by nurses, but I hardly ever combed my hair or cared about my appearance although fashion was very important to me before I relapsed.
But yesterday and today, I put on my black and red goth long skirt and my velvet blouse. Yesterday I had my hair cut and redyed at the hairdresser’s. I am feeling better. The only thing is I physically miss the physiotherapist who came to my house thrice a week. We exchange SMS and MMS, I sometimes call her on the phone, but I miss hugging her or even seeing her face. I guess I just need more time.