farewell.

I started this blog to chronicle my injuries and surgeries...both for myself and for others who are having similar issues, surgeries, pain...and need help or guidance.

And, well...I guess I'm done. Sure I have some pain...but I finally found a way to ease it. See wow.

I am working again, not just my two self employed jobs, but for someone else. Working out, going to the pool, you know...almost back to normal again!

So, this is farewell. Thanks to all  who have followed and showed support. I'm off to live my life again, almost pain free ;-)

If you've stumble across this blog and have any questions about anything....just leave a comment-I'll still get it.

Etsy Treasury Hunter: summer colorfest !

Etsy Treasury Hunter: summer colorfest !

well, you know

sometimes things just...happen. And sometimes I'm afraid to speak of such things, because I might jinx them...but on the roller coaster of life I have often done the 'wth, why us?' over things....the larger of the said things include:
1. grandmother's Alzheimer's
2. cousins death
3. losing a pet
4. being robbed
5. husband (bf at the time) having 2 feet of intestines removed.
6. sammy eating through a lamp cord and having to go to the hospital the same time husband is in the hospital.
7. husband having to withdrawal from school
8. kidney stones, over, and over, and over x5
9. injury/pain and no diagnosis
10. surgery 1
11. surgery 2
12. medical bills
13. unemployment
14. sammy pooping rivers of blood (coincidentally not related to #6)
15. husband's newly discovered NAFL disease
16. sammy's seizures
17. not being able to afford medical care for sammy

 ok, ok, it sounds like I'm whining and complaining, but actually...there's a light at the end of the tunnel. A light at the end of #17. I'm not a religious person, but I do believe there is something bigger than us going on-you can call it God, Allah, Mother Nature...whatever...but some things are more than coincidences. So for those of you not aware, #16 and #17 started last month...part of the reason for my lack of posts. Keep your fingers and paws crossed for our baby, please. A lot of hard work may be paying off.

Husband will always be missing 2 feet of his intestines, neither of us will ever forget being robbed, I'll always have the physical scars and effects from my surgeries (not nearly as big as the seam going down my husband's stomach!), I'm still unemployed, no one will be bringing my cousin back to life, and my grandmother's Alzheimer's will only get worse. There's absolutely nothing I can do about those things. But damn, I'm working so hard to change the story #16 and #17 are writing...even on 3 hours of sleep. Love this booger.

On an unrelated note:
1. My bff Jessica just got MARRIED!
2. current art project is rocking.
3. when you want something bad enough, nothing can hold you back.
4. I love my high school friends.
5. sometimes it's best to laugh and shut up then to say what you're really thinking. even if it pains you!

wow.

ok yeah...I've been a bit neglectful to my blog...just a bit. I need more time in the day. What am I gonna do when school starts?? I suppose it's a matter of learning how to manage my time instead of hoping for more hours in a day. Best news since I've been MIA? Massage. Had my first one a week ago. It was the first time I had felt the relief of the knots in my back being pressed, pressed, pressed...then gently disappearing like the bubbles when you first pour a soda...ahhhhh.

As if that weren't awesome enough...the first EVER relief of my iliopsoas pain. The therapists seemed a bit reluctant knowing it was my first ever massage and I wanted her to focus on my psoas area. Let's review just where that pesky little (big) muscle resides, and remember how angry mine is. A mean, a downright jerk.

Here the psoas major is pictured, which is a part of the iliopsoas. 

 

     

It's way back there, and she told me she could not even think about someone touching hers without getting the heebies...but I reassured her that I had a high tolerance for pain and to just go for it. And she did. And afterward, I actually felt relaxed for the first time in years. It felt so nice. I stood, putting weigh on the side of my body, for an hour after the massage and it still didn't tighten up. Went to a movie...sat through the entire 2 1/2 hours without pain....went to a baseball game and sat for 5 hours and walked about half a mile there and back....no pain. I was so happy I could have cried.
I go back to see miss magic hands in a week....I cannot wait!! Relief....finally. Finally.

Southern as Biscuits: Giveaway! By Local Artist, Kat Kraszeski Jackson

Southern as Biscuits: Giveaway! By Local Artist, Kat Kraszeski Jackson: "Spring Fresh Handmade Paper Garland It's time for another GIVEAWAY! If you are a regular reader of Southern As Biscuits blog (thank you &..."

younger and dumber

Last week I got to meet my older lady friend, who I had only spoken to over the phone and through email. My sports med doctor asked if I would mind calling her to talk to her about my experience with my first surgery (Dr. Meyers, Philly). So I did, and we talked for almost 2 hours. If your know me personally, then you know I'm not a phone person. We have things in common and we understand some of what the other is dealing with. There's very few people I know that could even understand the injuries and surgeries I had, much less know what is was like. I mean, if wouldn't get it either if I hadn't lived it. I only know of two people who I can talk to who understand the medical terminology of it all. We even talked about other things that go with neuropathy, like depression and just feeling like crap while pretending to feel okay. Except, she doesn't pretend. She totally lays it out, which I think is probably because she's older and wiser. I, younger and dumber, pretend things are awesome, smile through it, and suffer in silence as much as I can because I don't want pity, I don't want judgement, and I don't want to ever face a challenge and fail. I think all of this can fall under the category of stubborn.
It was fun to meet her, and her husband. They're so nice and easy to talk to. We talked for an hour and a half without any weird pauses because we both have so much we want to know about the other and share about our own experiences. It was a good visit.

tons of cuteness

I got to spend time with these cuties today:

and then I got to come home to these cuties:

busy fighting extraterrestrials. (edit)

For an unemployed girl who doesn't start grad school till fall, I've been super busy. Like, can't remember anything cause there's too much going on-which isn't like me (starting to scare me a bit!). I have to write notes to myself...and I haven't even reached 30 years old yet. This past weekend, I completely lost my train of in the middle of a sentence-twice. It happened around my parents-which I hated because memory loss and Alzheimer's is a...touchy(?) subject...for lack of a better word. I'm sure there are plenty of better words out there, but I forgot them :)
Yesterday started with the scariest non-spider attack EVER. I'm not usually afraid of bugs...just spiders. Oh-and any bug near Sammy cause of his allergies. But I walked into the kitchen and through Sammy's glass water bowl, I saw a distorted huge black and red thing. Upon closer inspection, I realized it was a super scary x-files-esque bug. That may mean nothing to you, but one of my college roommates knows what that is. X-file bugs have the ability to morph. My roommate hated them but never wanted us to kill them, so we would have to capture them in a cup and put them outside. One day, I tried to capture one crawling up the wall....missed...and accidentally cut it in half with the cup. THEN each half separated and crawled off in a different direction. NOT COOL! Anyways, this guy had big 'ole pincher things on its head, and I just knew that he was hiding under Sammy's bowl in order to sneak attack him and pinch him!! Not happening!! So, I get a wet paper towel** and try to squish it. It won't squish. It was hard as a brick!! I freaked out and threw it in the sink and it made a loud clack. Then, my husband calls to see how and what I'm. I tell him I've been fighting extraterrestrials all morning.
"What?", he asked..
"Fighting extraterrestrials all morning."
"Mmmk. What time did you get up?"
"About 20 minutes ago."
"So by all morning you mean 20 minutes?"
"Yep."
 "Ok. Good luck. Love you."
"Love you, too."
 Is anyone else alarmed at the fact he wasn't at all concerned about the alien? Like that was normal? Not only does it alarm me, it also offends me!
Anyway, I washed his scary bug butt down the disposal with hot water while the blades were going, and then covered both sides of the sink (just in case).

My knee is better, I think. It was popping and creaking and grinding the entire time on the bike. Yesterday it didn't start until minute 17. That's gotta be good, right? I have had to ease off one of my rehab exercises for my knee because it is killing my iliopsoas. The pain level is where I was a year ago (high). One thing leads to another...leads to another...ugh.

So today I'm doing my first doggie transport. Two doggies to be exact. Being a part of getting them to their new homes and out of  a high kill shelter is awesome :) Wish me luck! And that neither get car sick!

******************************
** any good bug killer knows you have to use a wet paper towel because dry ones leave too many crevices for them to hide or escape!
  So I stepped away to go to the bathroom, where I found a very large spider making its home in the corner of my sink. I, of course, FLIPPED OUT. There is really no need to explain with words. All you need to know is I'm sweating, but the spider is dead. The spider killing aftermath...and yes, that is a violin bow. And no, my bathroom doesn't usually look like this.

hehehehehe! goodbye!

here we go again

Gosh, things have been super busy! My husband and I have been trying to get our new Etsy shop up and running, promoted, and filled up! Lots of work, very time consuming, but fun! My most recent visit to my orthopedic doc for my hip surgery/iliopsoas check up took a different turn (again!). So, my knee has been hurting...my family doc did a McMurphy test on it and thought I had a meniscus tear. Those types of test serve best as a way to rule out things. Orthopedic doc doesn't think it is a meniscus tear, which is good. Except what he says it is is a lot harder to remember and pronounce!
The appointment went like this: He walks in, says hey and asks "You're still better right? Things are good?"... well doc....so I tell him about my knee...that it had been 2 months and so I was starting to worry. He kinda chuckles, tells me I'm a mess (in a funny way-hey-at least he can count on me to keep his office running!) and tells me to stand up straight.
"Ahhhh..", he said.
" Now touch your thumb to your forearm."

So I did, in which he "Ahhh-ed" again and said, "You shouldn't be able to touch your thumb to your forearm."
Huh. I mean, I used to do it to freak people out when I was younger....
So he did some more things..moved my knee around, talked more about how I wasn't normal (duh.) He then says that I have Joint Hypermobility Syndrome. Which isn't necessarily a big deal, until you take into consideration that in my case, my loose joints + hip surgery + protecting my right (surgery) side + overuse while exercising + a weak inner thigh muscle which most women have not pulling evenly on my knee since my outer thigh muscle is strong+over-pronation = (are you ready?) 'left patellofemeral syndrom secondary to a weal gluteus medius (I rehabed my right surgery side stronger than my left side..oopsie), joint hypermobility syndrome with an underdeveloped VMO and recent overuse.
Now, no treadmill, no long walks, and definitely no jogging. No elliptical. Doc said that unless it is in my heart that I must become a runner and I'm willing to endure pain and extensive training, then I need to know that I was not born a runner and to stick to the bike. Only have to tell me once...no more running.
I am allowed to use the stationary bike, but no more interval training for 2 months and I have to keep it at level 1 with no resistance. He showed me exercises to do to strengthen the muscles around my knee. Why does it always seem like 2 steps forwards, 5 steps back?
Moral of the story? Anyone having hip surgery needs to be sure to evenly build muscle on both sides of the body. Don't overdo it and take it slow. Just because you're told it will take 3-4 months of intense healing doesn't mean at month 4 or 5  you can do whatever you want. Check yourself for hypermobility of the joints and know if you have it, you may be prone to injuries.
Doc says I can't fix my iliopsoas pain until I fix this...because the knee exercises aggravate the iliopsoas..ugh.

"shortest shower of my life"

Our water heater went out sometime early yesterday. I was kinda confused when my shower was lukewarm even though no one had used hot water for hours. Later on, I couldn't get any hot water when I was washing my hands. It wasn't until it was too late that I finally realized something was wrong. The water had been scalding hot for the past few days. My husband mentioned it, too. And now...cold. Now I know that's a sign that the thermometer is going out. I told my husband he should take a shower at work in the morning so he wouldn't have to take a freezing cold shower. Which brings me to a whole other story from a few weeks ago after some bad storms. Friends of ours have a well, and their power was out for awhile. One of them posted something on Facebook about taking a shower at work since there wasn't any running water at her house. That actually could lead me to a third story, one which is both hilarious and sad, but it would be at said friend's expense. Anyway, I said something to my husband about how I thought it was weird she had a shower at her job (she doesn't work at a gym, pool, or truck-stop). Then my husband told me he had showers at his work, too (he also doesn't work at a gym, pool, or truck-stop). And he thought it was weird that I though it was weird to have showers at work. Is it not weird to other people that these people have showers at their workplace? Do all of you have showers at your workplace?? Okay, so back to the point. He wasn't going to his office in the morning, but instead straight to a meeting in a different town. A meeting place where presumably there are not showers (like normal places). But all of my attempts to try to get hot water during the day had used whatever was left in the tank, leaving it ice cold. I heard him as he woke up and went in the bathroom. The only thing separating me from his shower is a thin wall, so I always hear him turn it on. The shower may have been on for a total of 30 seconds. I asked him about it...he said 'that was the worst shower ever!! I washed my face and my important parts and jumped out as fast as I could!' Good news-the water heater is officially fixed now. Poor guy.

Mother's Day weekend was a lot of fun. It included INSANE disc golf where you needed a pulley and harness just to make it to the next basket. It also included family and the best dog ever (who doesn't understand why he isn't allowed to fetch the frisbees.)

 

 

this was one of the short baskets...

 

 

you don't wanna lose your frisbee on this course...full of poison ivy and thorns

FRISBEE!

Mine!!

Finally got to a doctor to have my knee checked out. After a McMurray Test, he thinks I could have a Meniscus tear. I went to the gym today and iced really well before and after. There's a lot of fluid behind both  kneecaps. Ugh. Moral of the story? Never, ever jog again. Ever.

say 'no' more often.

This has been blogged and tumblr-ed and reposted so many times
I don't even know who to give credit to...

day 3

Day 3 of 'resting'. My version of resting, at least. That along with ice and Advil seem to have helped my knee some. I want to get back to the gym tomorrow and just go really easy on my knees. Hope that works out. We have plans for disc golf this weekend, well, actually, my parents and husband do, my sis and Sam and I will just spectate. So I need to be able to walk!

The downstairs neighbors, affectionately referred to as Cheech and Chong, moved out! My husband keeps reminding me not to celebrate until we see who moves in...which in my experience is super true. Now I just wish that creeper upstairs would refrain from playing musical chairs on his porch every single day-which I haven't quit figured out yet. I haven't moved the furniture on our porch since I swept it at the beginning of Spring. Maybe he has OCD. I'm also gonna need whoever that is to stop blaring awful music. The music that's booming right now. The new next door neighbor plays really loud rap..but I can only hear it from my bathroom, so no biggie. But, it's nothing I've ever heard before. My husband doesn't ever know what it is either, and he is a virtual library of hardcore rap (yes-I'm super serious about this, but shhhh). He's left the state for work, so Sam and I are chillin' and excited about having full control over the remote. Actually, Sammy's pouting. I keep asking him to make his happy face...but I get nothing.

happy faces!

time to get out the ol' ice pack.

So, I'm not going to say anything about Osama except this: way to go military, way to go pres, and I'm glad that the family and friends of people who died in 9/11or fighting the war possibly feel some peace now. On the flip side, it is kinda weird to me to celebrate anyone's death. Maybe I would feel different if I had been directly impacted by 9/11, but right now I kinda feel awkward about everyone's celebration of death. Ok, I'm done.

I was having major pain issues this weekend. I don't understand why. I worked out Monday, Wednesday, and Thursday at the gym and took Sam for a walk at the park Friday. Friday night through Saturday I was in crazy pain. I think it's my iliopsoas.This is what I, Dr. Michelle, have decided. The iliopsoas is always active in everyone, unless you are somehow in a position where your hips and legs are perfectly straight. Otherwise, any leg or hip movement moves the iliopsoas. I still think that because of my hip and my scar tissue and stomach muscle tear, it was way overworked. I think that since it was in an active position working overtime, it possibly caused it to shorten (think of what happens in the arch of your foot or calf when you get a tight muscle that won't give). It's connected both to my (well, and your) pelvic bone and thigh. So, the front pelvic pain and thigh ache could be because the iliopsoas is tight, tilting my pelvic bone forward, and pulling on my thigh muscle. I still haven't received a reply to the email I sent the surgeon (which is weird)...but I am going to my local sports medicine doctor in a few weeks and share my thoughts. I also want to know if there is a type of imaging that can help us see the iliopsoas clearer and give us answers instead of guesses. Any image other than a CT scan, because I've had enough of those that the world radiation map probably shows excess activity coming from my apartment.
On top of that, I can explain my right knee pain with my hip. A combination of my over pronation, bad shoes, and my hip not being quite strong yet could have caused excess stress on that knee. Now I just need an explanation for why my left knee is worse than my right knee. Kinda super frustrated about that. I mean, one issue at a time would be nice! It's been 3-4 weeks since I hurt my knees, and they're both better, but my left seems to have stopped improving and refuses to be normal. I also sent a text to my PT. Sorry for the boring update. This blog has really helped me keep up with my progress.
Wow. PT just called me and boy, when you restate my actions back to me, I can see why people call me stubborn. Basically I would go to the gym, lift weights and do cardio, leg press the same weight I was doing before I hurt my knee, come home and do stuff around here, grocery shop, and wonder why my knee wasn't all the way better. Duh, Michelle. Good thing I have her to get me back on track and point out my stupidity! If you live near me and ever need a good PT, let me know. Now, I'm gonna go ice and not go to the gym (yes, I was about to go to the gym. I really am an idiot).

tornadoes and guns

So, here in the southeast, the word 'tornado' now has a different meaning. Before, it was just kinda annoying to most people. You know...ruining plans and whatnot. But after the other week when Raleigh and the surrounding areas were hit, everyone is starting to pay a little more attention now. That ominous Saturday started with running into two of our friends at an estate sale. I knew that storms were going to be rolling through later, but I didn't know that  in a mere 6 hours my husband and I would be worrying about whether those two friends safely made it through a massive tornado. They were going to be heading toward Raleigh soon after we saw them. Then there are the friends and family we have that live in the area. Once everything calmed down and we had heard or at least seen sign of life via Facebook or texts from the people we know in Raleigh, we felt better. Then we saw the picture everyone has seen by now of the Lowe's Hardware store...Other photos started coming in, people started posting on Facebook about their neighborhoods being demolished. A few days later, I was reading while my husband was watching NBC Nightly News...and I heard a familiar name. Two people who I had watched grow up in the church I attended when I was younger were being interviewed...they were rummaging through the rubble of what used to be their grandmother's house. Their grandmother didn't make it. A girl I went to school with posted a first hand account of the storm on her blog-complete with all the details and horrid photos of her own neighborhood. Towards the end of the photos, there's a photo of a girl that is absolutely haunting. You can see the pain, devastation, and confusion on her face. It's like she's standing there, trying to process it all.
So then tonight, they're calling for more storms, and more tornadoes, and even using some new (to me) acronym that I've never heard before: PDS. Apparently it means "Particularly Dangerous Situation."....I mean..what the hell, ya'll?? What am I supposed to do with that information?! I live in an upper floor apartment! I don't see much sleep in my future. We literally have clothes laid out and a bag of stuff and leash ready to grab. This whole tornado thing is bringing up some awful memories. Most of the memories are kinda disorganized and broken apart, but some are very vivid. Hurricane Hugo- September 1989. I was watching a Jim Henson Muppet special on television. My dad was at work. I was 7, my sister was almost 2. Tornadoes were running rampant across the state. The 'find a hallway and take cover now!' blurb went crawling across the television. All of the sudden, things were getting very real. My mom, sister, dog, and I huddled together in the basement hallway. My sister was crying, our dog was confused, I was terrified. My poor mom. You want to know what made matters worse? Yours truly had convinced herself that tornadoes could come through the toilet (it spins when you flush it...just like a tornado..I mean I was 7 so cut me some slack). I refused to get near the toilet, but maaaannn my nerves were getting to me. At 7 years old, crouched under a blanket in a closed off hallway with a toddler, dog, and my mom, and I totally crapped myself. And I will never live that down. Besides the obvious humor we all get out of that story now, something serious clicked in my brain that night. I was terrified for months. Completely terrified and convinced that my entire family was going to die. I didn't leave the house except to go to school. In fact, there was a specific chair I would sit in, rubbing my bottom teeth across the fingernail on my thumb. Doing that was some kind of nervous release for me. I rubbed that nail so thin that it hurt. Every second of the day my focus was to keep my family alive. I could only do that if I stayed close to them. My mom and I went to Eckerd Drug-back when it existed. I remember her buying me a lollipop molded to look like Garfield. I focused so hard on that lollipop, trying to get the feelings of doom, death, and storms out of my head. I wouldn't go outside and play with friends, if it started raining I had myself convinced a tornado was on the way, I constantly sat in the chair by the window to listen for any kind of train sound. I was obsessed with preventing our immanent fate of death by storm. My parents knew something was wrong with me, but they had no idea just how deeply terrified I was. They took me to see my pediatrician who talked to me and basically told my parents that I would get over it and it wasn't that abnormal. In retrospect, it was very abnormal. I was 7 years old and all I could think about was death and storms. For MONTHS. No other interests, just simply filled with terror. And now, 22 years later, I realize I was a 7 year old experiencing Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. The definition of PTSD has drastically changed over the years. At one time, it was only attributed to soldiers after a war. Now we know it has a much more prevalent place in society. But in 1989, I doubt anyone would have diagnosed an otherwise normal 7 year old with PTSD. I got over it at some point...some how. Time is a great healer, and 7 year olds are pretty darn resilient. 
My second bought of PTSD came about 15 years later. This time the situation was a bit more serious. A last minute stop by my apartment mailbox turned ugly. My husband (then boyfriend) jumped out of the car to grab my mail for me. Actually, I distinctly remember bribing him to do so because it was freezing outside and I didn't want to get out of the car. Next thing I know, I look up, and there's a gun pointed at him. Three guys..all wearing bandanas...and a gun. I didn't have my cell phone. I didn't know what to do. Time stood still and different images of various possible outcomes were flashing around in my head. One of them saw me and was coming toward me in the car. He forced me out of the car and on the pavement. I was in pajama pants with little sheep on them. I stared at one of the sheep on my leg...praying for everything to be over and us be okay. Wallets were demanded, but the measly bit of cash in mine made them mad. I can still hear it in my head. "This all you got?! And a damn debit card?!"
Somehow, someway, a couple came down the stairs across the lot. They scared off the robbers. I tried so hard to scream and warn the couple about what was going on. I was hyperventilating....and some strange half yell came out-but I must have said enough because the couple ran back up the stairs and called the police. We went to my apartment. I've never ran so fast in my life. I ran up the stairs, gasping for breath. Not only did I go out cell-less that night, but also without my inhaler. In my defense, I had never hyperventilated before...
My husband and I were pretty much communicating in hand gestures and short yells at this point. Full panic mode. We both went for our phones-I dialed 911. Now that I think about it...it's not a good idea to have the person who is hyperventilating be the one to call 911. The dispatcher told me that if I didn't get my inhaler and breath slowly on her count, she was sending an ambulance along with the police. I calmed down enough to satisfy her, but no one else I spoke with during the next hour would completely be able to grasp my words between my gasps. The police came. My car was fingerprinted. Our statements were given. Helicopters were dispatched. That's right folks, full on spotlight helicopters. A K9 unit was there....and the assholes were caught. Neither of us were shot or physically harmed. But I have never been the same since. I don't know if other people have noticed that or not. I don't really talk about it, and no one else does, so I kinda assume that my secret is safe. But unlike the fear of storms that started in 1989 and ended a few months later, this one is still with me. I think it's probably is here to stay.

***update** we survived the night!! and it barely even rained!!! and I got very little sleep!!

I have zero focus today,

Man, I am in a world of hurt right now. I went to the gym yesterday for the first time since last Monday. I couldn't go during the time in between because I was spending my nights wheezing...and exercise + wheezing= emergency room. I hate having that long of a pause between workouts. It's one thing to be the type of person who feels guilty if they don't workout-but then there's the fact that I'm working out for rehabilitation as well as exercise. When I don't workout-I hurt. I mean, I can barely walk today. For the days I can't exercise, I get stiff and my hip hurts. Then, after I go back to working out, my iliopsoas screams in pain. It sucks having a muscle cramp and muscle spasms in a place that is impossible to reach. I'm actually going to bite the bullet and email the surgeon about two things I have questions about: 1. Should not being active cause this much hip pain? and 2. What's with the leg aching? It scares me because last time I asked a surgeon questions I ended up having more surgery. I know that isn't a logical concern because that isn't going to happen, but I still get nervous. On a happy (?) note, I am beyond month 4!!! Healing takes 3-4 months, with a year of improvement before the end result is seen. And now that I've realized it's almost noon and I have a lot to do, I'm just going to bullet my other thoughts.

• Sammy's small mass on his lip was benign! yay for Sammy!
• I love my vet.
• My parents dog may be having kidney issues. Poor girl.
• Easter was awesome. The only thing missing was my sis and my grandma. 
• Seeing my friends' kids makes me happy.
• Seeing friends makes me happy.
• Seeing an old friend who has kinda become a new friend makes me happy. Especially since the pause between old and new doesn't even seem like it ever happened. So I guess she's still an old friend.
• I finished my Statement of Purpose for LR grad school. It's either really good, or will be the worst they've ever read. I took a risk but I feel good about it. 
• In about four hours my husband and I find out his biopsy results. 
• I've been telling Sammy to go find his toy for an hour to try to get his to stop pawing at my bag. I just realized his toy is in my bag. He's so much smarter than I am.
• Change scares me, and things are about to change. Maybe. And it's either a good change or a bad change. But I hate not being in control of it and having to wait it out.
• I still haven't heard about the job I interviewed for. They haven't filled it yet, and anyone who isn't offered the job will get an email saying as much. The one who is offered the job will get a phone call. I haven't received either.
• Even if I were the person to get the phone call, the place is 30 miles away. I get 32-36 miles per gallon while driving. The route from here to there is full of traffic which equals idling. Gas is $3.80 a gallon with talk of it getting to $5-$6 a gallon. The job is 5 days a week.

So 34 mpg (corolla average) - ~10 mpg (idling)= 24 mpg.
24 mpg/30 miles one way= 1 1/4 tank of gas.
1 1/4 tank of gas x 2(there and back)= 2 1/2 gallons of gas
2 1/2 gallons of gas x 5 (days per week)= 12 1/2 gallons of gas per week
12 1/2 gallons per week x $3.80= $47.50 in gas per week (low end)
12 1/2 gallons per week x $5.50= $68.75 in gas per week (high end)
$47.50 x 4 (weeks in a month)= $190 (low end)
$68.75 x 4= $275 per month (high end)
HOLY CRAP.

Just $5?

My grandmother is currently in late stage Alzheimer's...she's been dealing with the disease for years. I've watched her mind disintegrate. She doesn't even look like my grandmother anymore. The worst part is knowing how hard it is on my mom to slowly watch this happen, knowing there is no cure. We need a cure. The number of baby boomers who are going to suffer from this disease....lose all of their memories and cognitive skills...is terrifying. I have raised money for the walk the past two years...but because if my injuries, haven't been able to actually walk. Now, I can actually walk in the Walk to End Alzheimer's! Please consider donating just $5.00 to support my walk. I can't do this without you!
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'Cause this is thriller, thriller night...

Yesterday was day 3 of feeling like crap...so I decided to go to the doctor. I woke up without a voice Tuesday morning and a sore throat that was nothing like the allergies I had tried attributing my yuckiness to the other days. Afraid I had strep, I called my doctor. They're out of town. All of them. They suggest going to Urgent Care since they were both in the same system and would have my records on their computer. Now, I thought about my past experiences with said Urgent Care...but those were more serious issues (a broken bone they insisted was simply a 'contusion'). I decided that even a monkey could swab the back of my throat and send it to a lab...so off to Urgent Care I went...
Well....apparently everyone else needed to go to Urgent Care at noon on a Tuesday as well. I fill out the paper work, use hand sanitizer, and grab a seat as far away from people as possible. The seat I chose was next to a table, which I failed to notice, held face masks for people with flu symptoms.
Crap. The flu? Still? In April? Awesome. Some snotty nosed little emo kid came in, told the receptionist lady (who was constantly coughing WITHOUT covering her mouth) that he thought he had the flu. She TOLD him to put on  a mask. Of course, being completely paranoid, I quickly move to a different seat away from the flu table. He went to the table, picked up a mask, grabbed a magazine he proceeded to cough all over, and set the mask in his lap. What the heck did he think that mask was for??? I started looking around the room...my new seat was right by the entrance/exit in case I went into full panic attack mode. I could see everyone. Coughing receptionist lady, mask in lap emo kid, and a lot of poor suckers flipping through snot infected magazines. I will never understand people who read the magazines at doctor's offices. They are INFESTED!! Ugh. I get the heebies just thinking about it. The people in that waiting room looked like they had all been in some sort of toxic spill or something. Some only had one eye open, most hadn't bathed in days. The people coming in the front door looked like they were auditioning for a Thriller dance party or something, all with a strangely stiff limp. My heart was about to beat out of my chest. Just when I had endured enough and was about to leave, I hear my name called. Thank GOD. I am free from the waiting room of test subjects sick people. I was so freaked out I was shaking. The girl who took my blood pressure checked it three times. She looked at me, very concerned, and said "135/111-are you ok?"....
No lady, I'm not okay. I was just forced to inhale millions of cooties in a tiny room full of 'people' for 45 minutes. Before the PA comes in, she apparently researched my past blood pressure readings because she came into the room inquiring why my usually normal blood pressure was sky rocketing. "It's never been high before, especially not this high." I tried to explain to her that sick people terrify me. That the waiting room was full of them. That the emo boy did not put his mask on. I think she just thought I was insane. I went through all of that, and then this morning woke up with a cough. Which pretty much means it's doubtful that I have strep. I exposed myself to a petri dish of germs for no reason.
Monday, when I had decided my symptoms were just allergies, I went to the gym-which made me feel like hell. Now, day 2 without the gym, I hurt. The top of my leg is cramping like something awful. All of my muscles and hip flexors feel like they're seizing up. I guess I get to deal with that until I'm well enough to work out again.

courtesy Vanity Fair

3 1/2 months

I'm basically 3 1/2 months post-op now, and while things have progressed very well, there are still some issues. Going into the surgery I had in December '09 for the nerve entrapment and scar tissue, I was hesitantly optimistic. After years and years without a diagnosis, I really wanted the surgery to be the end of it all. Well, the beginning of the end...physical therapy and healing being the end. I had fought my insurance company so hard, for months..so when I finally won my case, I felt like the battle was over. I kind of forgot the fact that it wasn't winning against the insurance company that was the battle....it was getting through surgery and it working. That didn't happen. So, going into the surgery for my hip in Dec '10, it was kind of like...'here we go again'. There's a lot of emotions that go along with having hope, losing hope, having chronic pain, and trying to live life. It's roller coaster of ups and downs and frustration like I can't even put into words. Lots of tears cried, alone and on my husband's shoulder, in the bathroom at work, and over the phone with family. And I am tons better-TONS. But of course, there's a nagging itch in my brain about the pain at my pelvic crest. Why is it back? Will it get worse? It's not something that I want to worry about. I'm perfectly fine with ignoring it, but ignoring pain and having to wait so long for a diagnosis is why things got so bad in the first place. Then there's the psoas pain. It's not as debilitating as it once was. But it's there. It hurts. I don't understand how I can do interval training at the gym, the bike, elliptical, and treadmill with no psoas pain (but some hip pain) but vacuuming kills me. I mean, I guess I understands the technical part of it, but why won't it go away? And what's with this ache at the top of my thigh? I never had that until after hip surgery. I suppose I should email my surgeon and ask...but I never get the answers that I want.

I'm back.

OMG..OMG. The dog whisperer was right when he said, “I know why God gave her to me. We complement each other.” My super sensitive and anxious dog is a mirror image of me...just much more vociferous. Let me walk you through his 'drop-off' vet visit (which we never, ever do unless it has to be done, like in this case).

Sammy and I get to the vet Wednesday morning. He says hey to a few people and the dog in the line in front of us. All seems good. I fill out his paperwork, talk to the girl at the front desk, and warn her about Sammy. She had never been around when Sammy had to stay all day....and no one warned her. I told her what a treat she was in for. Then I looked at Sammy as I turned him over to her...and his eyes said it all. Have you ever seen anyone with a serious thyroid issue? Where their eyes are all popped out?   

That was him..


I leave, knowing that as soon as she shuts his kennel door, all hell was going to break loose. I called to check on him, and at that time, he had stopped 'talking'. 'Talking 'is what the vet and the groomers call his incessant crying. I refer to it as a mix between a mating cat and a wolf killing a crying baby. He mixes it up for you...he'll start with some high pitched whining, move on to some howling, and then, for the finale, he hangs his head down really low, and just lets it all out. Apparently, he had worn himself out and took a small break. 10 hours later when I went to pick him up, I could hear him 'talking'. And lord, he sure was 'talking' up a storm. He was pissed and he wanted everyone to know. Everyone in Petsmart, everyone 8 stores down at Target...everyone 3,000 miles away in California. So, imagine my still-a-tad-drunk-from anesthesia dog...'talking'...looking off into space, looking crazy because some of his fur on his cute little muzzle had to be shaved off. Only on  one side. This photo doesn't do it justice, but it will have to do, cause there's no way in hell I'm disturbing him now that he finally...36 hours later...stopped 'talking'. Now, ignore that his face is wet, but as you see, the right side of his face is normal..... 

...but the left side is shaved.Which makes it all the more hilarious. That is until he cried ALL NIGHT and ALL DAY TODAY. Not hilarious. I couldn't leave the house...I couldn't leave the room. He's completely convinced that if I'm out of his site, I've abandoned him and he'll wake up alone in a kennel with half of his face shaved off. I mean-where does he think I'm going to disappear to when I go to the bathroom?! Maybe there's a secret exit it the shower?!?! Clomicalm didn't help, DAP didn't help, Music My Dog CD didn't work, begging didn't work, crying with him didn't work. But somehow, for some reason...he stopped. He walked into my bedroom... alone... jumped up on the bed, and went to sleep. He's been quiet ever since. I wonder what's going to happen when I try to leave tomorrow...
Now some people may be thinking that if he's crying so much, he must be in pain. And I must be a horrible mommy for not knowing this. Ahhhh....but that is what I thought the first time this happened. The time when I flipped out and made my then boyfriend, now husband, race us to the emergency vet at 1 am. Hundreds of dollars later, and he was just fine..
He isn't in any pain. In fact, he plays ball and tug...but the whole time...he 'talks'. He eats and drinks, and in between swallowing, he 'talks'. He 'talked' so much the last two days that now instead of sounding like a mating cat/wolf eating a crying baby, he sounds like a mating cat who smokes a pack a day/wolf eating a crying baby.

                              

I moved!

My new URL will be here..
Right now, it won't take you to anything, but soon it will, and the old URL will be dead.

hiatus

Going on blogging hiatus for a bit. I have a job interview and I don't need them knowing that I can't use a toaster without hurting myself. Thank you to those of you who read it! I'll be back soon. :) Take care.

it's a wrap.

Funniest things I've heard this week:

'Well, on the bright side, at least neither one of you are on meth.'-my sister in reference to one of her patients.

'Wait-weren't you in PT for your hip?'-a physical therapist in reference to my knee.

'So hold on- is there a piece of your finger still in the toaster?'-my husband.

'Is that knee brace for the left or right knee?'-yours truly.

I have hit the 3 month post-op mark! Excited about how well things are going so far. I really need to pace myself. My excitement for activity and normalcy keeps leading to me getting hurt, then set back, then frustrated. As you can see above, I did get a knee brace and hope that helps so I can go back to my normal activities at the gym instead of only the bike. Rushing through things and not taking my time is more than likely how I was injured in the first place. I have to chill out, slow down, and be careful. Rushing to do things is also why a piece of my finger may be in the toaster.....ugh. It's an awesome toaster, too. Not one I would ever buy myself, but a really nice one we received as a wedding gift. I keep trying to get my husband to see if finger fragments are in there....but he won't. So for now, we just won't use it...
If you have a little extra time in your day on Tuesday, please send positive thoughts in the direction of my husband. It would be much appreciated. Also, if you could send some Valium in my direction, we would probably both appreciate that.

what I do on rainy days weeks 

what Sammy does on rainy days

water pumps and dresser drawers

I sure do wish things would quit breaking. Broken car, broken husband, broken me...goodness! I went to have a recall fixed on my ______ (can you guess? can you guess??? yes...Toyota) and dogonit wouldn't you know that there were other things wrong with it as well. Listen Mr. Mechanic guy....I know how this works. I bet this is how your morning meeting went the day Toyota decided to issue yet another recall:

"Good morning! Well, we have another recall being issued from the big guys and the letters will start going out next week. As you all know, we make zero dollars on recall fixes, so we need to up-sell up-sell up-sell!! When one of our customers brings their car in for a new ECM, be sure to mention other things that their car needs. For blue cars, let's tell 'em they need their transmission flushed...for green ones...hmm..I know! A new water pump!! And let's charge them $100 more than it should cost. Okay guys? We really have to bring in some revenue...with what's happening in Japan and all of these recalls...we're screwed."

And in walks unsuspecting me...With my MAT study guide and water bottle. The mechanic head guy approaches me because he wants to 'show' me something in the garage area. I'm secretly hoping everyone thinks the 'MAT' on my book stands for Mechanics and Things and that I totally know all about cars.
Him-'I want to show you something on your car.'

Me-(of course you do)
Him-'You see the water pump here?'
Me-Yeah (um not really)
Him-'That pink there-that's anti-freeze. Your water pump is leaking'
Me-Oh, hmm. (I thought anti-freeze was green)
Him-'That could be really bad once it gives out. It will ruin your engine.'
Me- (no shit dude-I know what a water pump is...kinda. it pumps water. duuuh.) Okay.
Him-'It could leave you stranded on the side of the road.'
Me-(oh lord scare tactics?! really?? like I haven't been stranded on the side of the road before...**)
       How much do you guys charge for a new water pump?
Him-'I'll get you a quote'
Me-Great, thanks. (go right ahead, I am not paying your insane prices.)

I walked right out of there with my Mechanics and Things Miller's Analogy Test book and drove my broken car away. My mechanic will do it for $150 less.

I did intervals on the bike at the gym...and besides the popping and cracking (hmmm) I think it made my knee better. After one of the PTs called me out for leaving the gym after only 30 minutes, I told him about my knee...he looked puzzled and asked, 'Weren't you in physical therapy for you hip?'...why yes, yes I was. I amaze myself as well....
but he showed me an exercise to get the fluid out of my knee and it feels a lot better.

** times I have been stranded on the side of the road due to my car:
1. when I fell asleep driving, hit the cement divider on I-40, busted my tire, and ended up on the side of the highway in the pouring rain.
2. when I swerved to avoid a dresser drawer on I-40 (YES, a DRESSER DRAWER), over-corrected, and landed on a small tree on the side of the interstate.
3. When, at 3am, I was with two friends merging onto I-40 (see a trend here??) and  said "gosh I really hate those 'Wrong Way' signs, they always confu-OH MY GOD!!!! (this is way before OMG) I'M GOING THE WRONG WAY!!" and then ran my car into a ditch..a very deep ditch.
4. The multiple times my old car overheated.

butterflies.

I have some major butterflies going on in my stomach. There could be some vomiting going on shortly. My husband has a very scary doctor's appointment on Tuesday...they're throwing the word 'biopsy' around. I personally feel they should reserve that word for face-to-face conversation-not the phone. I'm trying to keep my sanity and be supportive. Trying to focus on my exam Monday and get through that before I worry about Tuesday. I can't seem to take a deep enough breath.

I'm going to get back to the gym today-I have let my knee rest for a few days, so I'm going to just stick to the bike and see how that works and if it makes it worse. I love that while trying to get my hip back to 100% I injure other things in the process...going to go chill at the Toyota dealership for yet another recall and get some studying in. Just hoping there isn't that one super annoying person in the waiting room on his or her phone talking so everyone can hear. The way I feel today....I just may go crazy on them.

the countdown begins...

I have one week to study for my grad school entrance exam. One week. I'm pretty nervous. I HATE multiple choice tests! I'd take an essay exam over a multiple choice exam any day. My confidence level is not too high right now...

The husband and I started our 'new adventure' yesterday morning. It was less than successful. I think we're going to attempt it again next Saturday and hope for more luck (and for a certain wife to be a little more patient).
And I need to thank the weather for looking as if it's pretty much going to suck this week. Rain and cold will definitely deter me from wanting to jog. I have got to rest for a few days. My  knees, my foot, my hip...my everything hurts. Rain and cold just in time to keep my head in my study book and my feet off of the pavement. I'm banning myself from facebook this week. Once I sign onto facebook, it all goes downhill. I'll find twelve articles I want to read, photos I want to look at, blog links I want to check out, and before I know it, there goes 2 hours. No time for that this week! And thanks to hairstylist extraordinaire Bonnie, I have a pump to inflate my physio ball back up with (and no more roots), which is a lot easier on my body than jogging.  And I just might hit the road this week to go home and visit my grandmother for her birthday. So on my to-do list for the week:

1. Move from the green theraband to the blue for PT exercises
2. No jogging, no gym for a few days
3. Ice Ice Ice
4. Study Study Study
5. Facebook blackout
6. Try to visit grandmother
7. Job hunting

I'm not even going to attempt to rate pain right now. Everything hurts! OH and I remembered that word I couldn't think of when I was writing about the bad doctor's visit-synovitis.

the day of the slug

Today was one of those sluggish days. I went to the gym, hoping that would make me feel less sluggish. It didn't work. It made everything more difficult. Besides the sluggishness, I still think I'm doing really well, despite the whole doctors appointment earlier this week. I know things are much better and I just have to remember that. I even got back on the old elliptical when I was at the gym. Evil, evil elliptical. And then I came home and fell asleep on my MAT study guide, again.

Sam has made it very clear to me that he would like to go out and enjoy the weather. He just stares out of the window for hours. Hopefully we're going to do that tomorrow before the rainy weekend starts. Last summer I taught him how to drink out of a water bottle without touching it with his tongue, so when we were on walks, we could share the water. Now, whenever I pick up my water bottle to go anywhere, he gets all full of himself because he thinks he's coming along.
There's a lot going on this weekend. I have to get my car worked on...one of two times since it also has another recall...and my husband and I are going to get up butt-early to start a new adventure** together...one that I suspect will last all of....one day. Any 'adventure' that requires him to wake up before sunrise on a Saturday is bound to be short lived. But we'll see.....

Spring! And lots of sneezing!

 **please note, the word 'adventure' is used loosely. Small things excite me nowadays.

Pooped Pup

Sammy is super duper tired after our jog. Felt pretty good today, pain is very minimal now and before the jog, pain was zero. Along with my lovely Monday of crap news, I also received lab results saying my vitamin D level is 'pretty low'. I take vitamin D and calcium every night, so I was pretty surprised by that. Now I have to take prescription synthetic vitamin D (D2) twice a week for 12 weeks. I can remember daily, but twice a week seems kinda hard. I decided that being told my D is low meant I needed to spend some time in the sun, but the sun never came out while we were at the park. I also decided it means I'm old. I'd like to lay down with this cutie pie but I really, really need to study. I'm gonna blow this dang MAT, I just know it.

bi-polar day

Today started out just fine. Headed to the doctor for my check up today. We were going to explore the whole botox shot thing for my iliopsoas pain...but for some reason, my appointment took a strange turn. He checked out my range of motion and strength for my hip and then did some poking and prodding. Hip is good. Some pain-yes. But good and strong. He pushed a place in my pelvic crest -which in turn cause me to slap him away. He's the second doctor I've hit, and is in good company with 2 surgeons ("tell hit me when it hurts"). His face immediately went from normal to concerned...and so I was like.."umm what? What does that mean?"
Apparently that look, that pain, and that slap meant my pain might not just be muscle pain from my iliopsoas. His push was much too superficial to have caused iliopsoas pain, which is closer to the spine than stomach. Here we go again....
He said it could be that some of my nerves are entrapped in scar tissue again. He reminds me that when he pushed there the first time he met me, I had the same reaction. He said other stuff that I can't recall right now. My next series of questions were pretty obvious. Why?! How? How is it all tied in? One injury did all of this?!?  I know that isn't a fair question, but his best guess is this:
Inflammation and tear in my hip happened first. There is a real word for it that starts with an 's' that I can't remember right now. Anyways, that caused some secondary issues that are now their own issues. It caused the tear, nerve damage, scar tissue found in the Dec 09 surgery..and it caused this issue as well.
We're giving it 8 weeks to see if it improves before we do anything else. The 'else' being injections/ultra sound. I just have to believe that I'm going to feel great in 8 weeks and none of this will matter then.

Tried jogging Friday, which went pretty well. Sam did awesome and is such great company. My hip was sore afterward as was my iliopsoas/mystery pain. I was pretty happy about it. Today I was back in the PT gym, had some nice, encouraging words from someone which I really needed...since I went to the gym straight from the doctor. Started back doing interval training again. This time on the bike, not the elliptical like I did this past summer. I'm so mad at the elliptical right now I didn't even step foot on it today. I'm almost as mad at it as I am at that pain the doctor pushed today. Damn it all.

I'm going to cuddle up with Sammy, who doesn't mind that I'm stinky from the gym, and try to stay positive. (aka cry a lot)

realizations

Finishing up week 11 since surgery, here are a few things I just sorta realized I'm doing now that I wasn't able to before...

1. shaving my legs,  which did not work well at three weeks post-op. 
2. getting stuff off of the bottom pantry shelf.
3. walking Sammy without pain.
4. walking up small hills successfully.
5. cardio for 30 minutes.
6. walking with 20 lbs of resistance weights against my hip.
7. laundry without issues
8. unloading the dishwasher without issues.

Unfortunately, the vacuuming that I did today was slightly less successful. The vacuuming was successful, but my pain level wasn't. I mean, I did it, and even got slightly distracted and took the vacuum apart to clean it. But I'm sore. I was still able to do PT tonight. I'm hoping to wake up tomorrow feeling better so I can get to the gym. I'm supposed to add some harder stuff to my home PT during week 12-15, which is coming quickly! My iliopsoas is giving me trouble-again. I have a 12 week check up with my doc next week, and will probably explore the option of a botox shot in the muscle. I kinda just want to see the endurance of my hip without the pain of my iliopsoas kicking in. I went to the 'other' doctor this week who somewhat happily announced to me that I have cysts on my ovaries and asked if they bothered me. They're on my right side, along with the pain from hip surgery, numbness-fades-to-sunburn feeling from the first surgery, and iliopsoas pain. I'm pretty sure if they were bothering me, I wouldn't notice. Something is defective with that side of my body. My right kidney is the one with stones and always has been, right hip labral tear and damage, right side stomach muscle tear, the right side is where the surgeon had to repair nerve damage and remove scar tissue from my stomach, I broke my right foot, and whenever I have a headache it's on the right side. I'm pretty sure my left side points at my right side and says nanny-nanny-boo-boo quite often. If I was the left side, I would.

So far so good!

Day 3 of being on my own at the gym and things are going well! Bicycling, elliptical-ing, treadmill-ing forward and backward (talented, huh?), and doing weights. I get home, stretch, and ice, and pretty much feel fine. The elliptical is definitely the hardest part so far, it hurts my hip some, but not much. Hope things keep going well. I'm supposed to work up being able to do the home routine, 30-45 minutes of cardio, and weights all in one day. I can't do all of that yet, or else I'm out of commission for 2-3 days which defeats the purpose. So that's the goal for now. Pain is a 0/0 and I just got home from the gym.

This weekend was fun, and luckily there was enough alcohol provided to blur out the pain I was in. My mom and I walked in the park with Sammy with the husband and my dad played disc golf. Walking was fine, we didn't walk long and there weren't hills. But then I stood for way to long afterward while at the awesome surprise party we had for my friend. She was surprised-we ate, we drank, and we were merry. I brought my camera and then totally left it in my friend's closet during the party, and never took a single photo...
Family, friends, seeing my favorite baby girl, and fun times for Sam. At the disc golf park, frisbees were flying all over the place and he just couldn't handle it. He wanted to run after each one-it was hilarious. The days are longer now, and sun = endorphins!

Animal lovers, or just plain normal people...

..who know it isn't okay to shoot innocent dogs in their head as a form of euthanasia. Please sign this petition and spread the word. Don't know about the story yet? Well, in a nut shell, some crazy people at an animal shelter in S.C. decided it was okay to take dogs into a field and shoot them in the head to decrease their shelter population. The shelter sure was cleared out, since that's how local volunteers who came to save dogs who were close to being euthanize noticed something was wrong. One commented that there sure were a lot fewer dogs than they had expected and ask if a large amount had recently been euthanized. One of the workers explained they had 'been taken across the street.' The volunteers were shocked, curious, so they went across the street to the landfill and found horror. Dogs with gunshots in their head. Bones, fur. And to think, they had come to save some and find some foster and forever homes. And the guy in charge? Sheriff Parker. What a JOKE! He has no answers, knows nothing, it isn't his fault. He doesn't even know how the workers got their hands on guns. Please sign!!!
More info:
MSN
GRAPHIC!! so I've been told. I haven't looked. And won't.
WSOC TV local news story
Fox Charlotte's Morgan Fogarty interviews Sheriff Parker

Neurosis:

a class of functional mental disorders involving distress but neither delusions nor hallucinations whereby behavior is not outside socially acceptable norms. (no longer recognized by the APA).

No longer recognized because so many people have it? Being neurotic is kinda like those awful commercials where people wind up little toy soldiers of themselves and watch as they march down the picnic table while staring at them with with a creepy yet satisfied look on their face. Except-instead of marching toy soldier style-legs and arms flail around and as the head spins, pureed green peas spew about while Martika plays in the background. (sorry if I just busted your bubble over that Eminem song).

I have to stay busy. Free time is not my friend. Healing seems to interfere with that. On another note, I think I found the perfect job for me. Except at the bottom where it says: "Physically able to perform such functions as lifting, twisting, carrying, bending, stooping, pushing and pulling." dang.
 ppphhhtttt.

I think I've outdone myself.

I went to my PT gym orientation Monday and was given my at home plan and in gym plan. I did my at home plan last night, which seems a lot more difficult now than the one I was doing before. I had planned on cardio today...but uhhh...not happening. I HURT. I definitely outdid myself and I'm paying for it today. My PT always says to listen to my tissues. In other words, learn the difference between muscle pain and tissue pain and tissue pain means to take it easy. And this is tissue pain. Kind of bums me out because I though Sam and I were going to enjoy the weather after such a rainy weekend. I need to go by the store, and I hurt so badly that I mapped out different store possibilities in my head to figure out which one would take the least amount of steps to get to what I need. I think Petco won. I haven't rated pain in a while but my iliopsoas has been on and off and is about a 4 right now-thank goodness-because my hip is about a 7. Which kinda ruins my day. Hmph.

In keeping tradition with my recently depressing posts, today is the 15th anniversary of the death of my cousin John. When I was young, he was my hero. I would pretend he was my older brother, because I always wanted an older brother and he fit the profile perfectly. He was protective of me but still teased me on a regular basis, he would hang out with me as long as there was nothing better to do or someone cooler to hang out with, he thought my love of NKOTB was hilarious and never let me forget it, and every time I would end up in the deep end of the pool and pretend I couldn't swim, he would 'save' me, knowing I just wanted his attention. There was a pretty big age difference between us. Some of my memories of him are pretty specific and vivid. One Easter he came to our annual neighborhood Easter egg hunt and party. I was so excited he was there-but when we got there, one of the older and cooler neighbor guys was there and the two of them hung out. I was officially ousted. It crushed me. I was so angry and felt so abandoned, I tried to explain to my parents that he was my friend and he was here to play with me. In retrospect, that exact instance should have been a lesson in dealing with my younger sister, since I did the exact same thing to her...constantly. Sorry sis. Another time, I was about 10 I think, and listening to a cassette tape of Phil Collins. Because at 10 years old, I liked Genesis just as much as I do now. He totally made fun of me. That crushed me too (dang, is that how it feels to be a younger sibling??) 
I remember the phone call the evening of March 7 fifteen years ago. I was laying on the couch in the living room, not doing my reading that I was supposed to do for my 8th grade English class. There was a weird answering machine message left by my dad's mother. It was panicky, strange. Then my mom was on the phone. Her voice was different. That's the tell-tale sign something is bad....my mom's voice. She'd deny it, but it's true. I knew something was wrong. I tried to listen harder. Then, she called my dad. He was at work. He must have noticed 'the voice' as well, because all she told him was 'you need to come home.' I think somewhere in there she assured him we were all okay, but she would not specify why he needed to come home. I didn't understand that for a long time. My mom explained to me later that she didn't want him driving home in a panic, so she didn't tell him what was wrong. She sat down beside me and gave away her other tell-tale sign....her smile. My mom usually has a sincere smile, one that exudes warmth. Then there's her smile that I think is meant to hide what is really going on. Maybe she can't control it and it's a nervous reaction, or maybe it is meant to be some kind of comfort in a bad situation. Either way, something really bad was about to be said. John's step-dad had come home and found him shot.
-What? That doesn't make any sense. Who would shoot John?!
My mom said she didn't know any details. John and I had grown apart. I guess the whole family kind of had. I didn't know what he was into, why he would be found shot in his house. I didn't know what was going on in his life. I had heard talk of him having a hard time, but he was a teenager. That's pretty much the definition of a hard time. Sometime later I either was told or overheard that he had shot himself.
-That makes even less sense. Why would he do that? What about me? Didn't he think that he would miss me?

I took it extremely personally. In my 14 year old brain, it was hurtful that he would be so arrogant as to leave us. What about his mom? What about Christmas? I was mad. Shallow thoughts of a middle school kid. Of course I understand things better now. I know that at the age of 19, whatever was going through his head was exaggerated about 100%. I understand the mindset as much as I can without being in that mindset. I understand the psyche of a teenager, both from being there and from studying it.

I went in my room and started reading the chapter I was assigned for class. I was confused, angry, sad. I waited for my dad to get home. I wrote in my journal that Ms. Bahwa made us keep. I needed to explain that I didn't finish the reading and why. I went to school the next day. My parents thought that would be best. They had a lot of stuff to help with and needed me to not be at home dwelling on what had happened, asking questions no one could answer. People asked what was wrong. Holding back tears for an entire school day was exhausting. I didn't want to tell people what was wrong. My best friend who sat beside me in class was getting angry. Something was wrong and I wouldn't tell her. I couldn't-I would cry. I couldn't speak at all that day. I passed her my journal entry so she could understand. I don't know how I made it through that day. I remember once I got to science class, the only class with a phone, I had asked Mr.Barnard if I could call my parents. He gave me same BS runaround as usual, badgering me about why I needed to use it. I didn't want to tell him. I busted out crying. He let me use the phone. My parents pleaded with me to make it through the rest of the day. Neither of them were able to come get me from school. I made it through. The rest is a complete blur up until the funeral. It's another heavy heart day, especially for my aunt.

heavy heart.

A dear friend of mine lost her dog tragically earlier this week. Ever since then I've been struggling with what to say. What can you say? Not much. I'm currently studying for the MAT in hopes of getting into a masters in counseling program. Thank God I won't be counseling friends. I take that back-I think that I can and am helpful if someone comes to me with an issue. Just not this issue. The most important thing (I think) about helping someone through something tragic is to empathize with them. Well, I don't want to empathize with that. I don't want to even think about it. Honestly, if it was a child she lost, I could help her get through it better, or at least feel more confident about it. Simply because I don't have a child or the emotions that go along with one. I do have a dog. One I'm neurotically attached to. And when I first heard about it, I cried. Both from the idea of what had happened and from sheer fear that I simply could not make her feel any better. The only thing that will is time. And time goes by damn slowly during pain. Since I have known her, she has lost 3 dogs. Awful. I've been keeping up with her through mutual friends, making sure she's okay. The word 'okay' is used very loosely here, mind you. I basically mean I've been checking to see if she's functioning. She is. But it must be so hard. I've talked to her too, but don't want to be the constant reminder of what happened by badgering her about it. I'm going to see her tomorrow. I have this fear that as soon as I see her face I'm going to burst out crying which is just no good. That's not helpful. That's the direct opposite of helpful. Ugh lets hope I don't make her feel worse. Hug your pets and make sure they know they're loved. I know Harley knew he was loved. She gave him a great life. And that's all we can hope to do.

Car rides to the big city...

Sam and I went to pick up the husband from work yesterday. Car rides have always been..a touchy subject with Sam. He used to cower in the floorboard of the passenger seat, stuffing his head in any hole or nook he could find, even if that meant getting his head stuck under seat. He would vibrate uncontrollably and just simply FREAK OUT because it was totally the end of the world. Finally, one day I grew a set and said "NO MORE!"...no more crazy neurotic car dog. I forced him in his doggy seat belt (yes, I said 'doggy seat belt". If you wish to question my choice of having a seat belt for my dog, please refer to the beginning of this post and then kiss my rear. Everyone should have their dog secured when driving...whether or not said dog gets his head stuck under the car seat or not. Not convinced? See the end of this post).
Now he still vibrates, but only for the first 5-10 minutes of the ride and if the engine revs loudly or a loud truck goes by. Otherwise, he loves his new view from the seat. Much nicer than the one from the floorboard. He does not do open windows though...way too much uncertainty there.

PT gym intro is rescheduled for Friday! Driving 65 miles to pick up the husband from work caused some pain in the top of my leg. Pretty much the only thing still giving me trouble directly related to hip surgery, unless I stand for too long. Now if everyone could just stay well....husband is taking his turn at being sick this week. I hope that ends soon.

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So you say your dog doesn't get his or her head stuck under your car seat...so why do you need a harness or seat belt?


1. does your dog jump everywhere while you're trying to stay in your lane on the road? you need one.

2. does your dog try to stick his or her entire body out of the car window? you need one.

3. what if you got in an accident and poor fluffy was thrown about the car and hurt? or into the windshield? what if during a wreck your unsecured dog ran out of the car in a panic, possibly hurt, or right into traffic?

4. do you love your dog? you need one.