Just call me “Elaine”
Are there any Seinfeld fans out there? Do you remember the episode where Elaine is "black-listed" from all the doctors? I think I’m on my way.
My Mom suggested that I call another MRI location to see if they could get me in any faster. They can, as in tomorrow. In order to do this, I had to call my doctor back, go pick up my x-rays and scrip which meant crutching it for about a half mile in the dreaded doctors office building, and have them call for an authorization number, etc.
I don’t think that my doctor’s office was really happy with me and all my requests today; but I now have an MRI scheduled for tomorrow and an appointment with my surgeon moved up to Tuesday. That’s definitely better. The lady at the MRI place also assured me that my claustrophobic head will not be in the tube. I repeat, NOT be in the tube. I’m relieved that things are moving along now at a little faster pace.
And now onto some treats. . .
I got this little treat award thing from Andrew. What a doll! Thank you. I needed that.
I’m supposed to give it to five people in need of/deserving of a treat, so here goes:
Karl of 2HT: Karl is like the funniest dude around. His blog always brightened my day, but lately Karl is down in the dumps. Hope this cheers you up Karl, because you always cheer me up.
Chris39 aka Marcus Aurelius: He’s like my comment sidekick and fellow fantasy football player. He renamed his team "Areu Kidding Me" which rivals my "Stickaforkinme" name. We’re clearly on the same wavelength. He doesn’t currently have a blog because he says he lacks material. I personally think he just lacks time, but I’m all for him continuing to be my comment sidekick instead.
Jenn at Maniacal Days is in the early days of becoming a parent of two. It’s sort of a rude awakening and she could totally use a treat.
J at Thinking About deserves this treat, because I have been such a lousy commenter/reader over there. I’m just totally self-absorbed right now so I hope the treat can suffice until I can get back there.
Adam has been my email pep-talker as of late. His emails make me all teary in a good way, but his encouragment makes me feel like this too shall pass. Plus, I totally owe him one since I told him I was going to put him on my blogroll like a bazillion years ago and just got around to it, finally, last month. Sorry Adam!
I’ll get Halloween pics of the girls up tomorrow. They had a really good time and looked so cute.
In other news, I joined that whole NaBloPoMo thing which means I have to post every single day in the month of November. I figured it would give me something to do. You’ve been warned. Things could get crazy around here, and I may have to bring in guest posters to fulfill my obligation if I have to have surgery. If I do, I’ll expect video serenades, just so you know. Things could get really interesting around here.
Calm
Mr. BBM practically kicked me out of the house today. He knew I needed to get out. Today, Lil C used me as a human tissue on there separate occasions. She also took her own diaper off, sat on her little potty for a minute, and then forgot why she was sitting there, got up and peed on the floor. Later, she pooped, and before I could hobble around to get the stuff and change her, she shoved her hand down her diaper. I’ll leave it at that. It was a rough day.
So I took Big I to the dojo by myself. I crutched it up the stairs and began talking to the Kyoshi matriarch of the entire organization. She is the second highest ranking black belt in our organization with an 8th dan. We began talking about my knee, the options and all the women who are experiencing acl injuries in the martial arts (I’m the second one in the past few months in our organization).
For the first time since this happened, I felt a sense of calm. Talking to Kyoshi has that effect on you, and it certainly did for me. As class got underway, I chatted quietly with some of the parents. One of the women blew her acl out while playing softball and had surgery for it many years ago. She was sharing her experience with me. Another woman there has worked at the hospital with the Orthopedic doctors and she confirmed that I had made a good choice with the group I chose. It was like everyone there addressed and erased a little piece of worry that I had and helped it just melt away.
While sitting on the sidelines, I took the opportunity to really watch the way my instructor moves. I was able to watch Big I too. I joked with some of the other parents that we need to call in the guys from The Unit to rig us up with little ear pieces we can stick behind our kids ears so that we can communicate with them from the sidelines. "Bend your knees. Get into Seisan!" etc. etc.
At one point during class, my instructor talked about a friend of hers who had been in a terrible car accident. In bed with her injuries, she concentrated on doing the breathing from Sanchin, and it helped her recover faster. She talked about how her friend would practice the arm movements for kata and waza while in bed to pass the time and keep her techniques in her head, also to keep her sanity. She nodded in my direction.
I am so glad that I went to the dojo tonight. I felt peaceful and relaxed for the first time since I got this nasty injury. It was a nice change of pace. We’ll have to see how long I can keep the calm up.
Because the World Should Revolve Around ME!
My MRI is scheduled for Wednesday, November 7th. Let that sink in for a moment. Check your calendar. Do you see what today’s date is?
NOVEMBER 7TH! That is over a WEEK AWAY!
I don’t have my follow-up appointment until Friday, November 9.
Seriously.
Do these people not realize that I have a 2-year old!?! By the time I can actually walk on my own, my house is going to be destroyed; and I can NOT STAND just sitting here on my butt doing nothing. That MRI date was the earliest I could get in at any one of the four locations. I just want to scream. I realize there are other people who have appointments before me, and other people who have more important conditions; but I am a Mom with two little girls and not being able to walk is not an option! Not knowing what the future holds for me and my knee is also driving me nuts. I want to get the results, make a decision, and get moving, literally.
I also have to say that the questions the scheduler lady asked me were not comforting. "Did you ever have metal in your eye? Have you ever had surgery? Is there any possibility that you have metal pieces floating around in your body?" O.k. so those weren’t her exact words, but that was basically the jist of it. It got me to thinking, could I have metal in my eye and not know it? I mean, I think I’d know it, but my GOD!
And, what if my OB stuck a paper clip up in there when I was having Big I, just to torment me in case I ever needed an MRI, as punishment for screaming too much. What if I ate a sandwich and there was a piece of aluminum foil stuck in the bread and I didn’t realize it, and that piece of foil is now embedded in my ribs or something? What about deodorant with aluminum in it? Will I be propelled by the magnetic force right into the top of that tube by my armpits??? Do you see why this needs to happen sooner as opposed to later? I can’t stand waiting. My brain doesn’t deal well with the waiting game. My brain makes me google, google, google, and before you know it, I have worked myself up into a frenzy.
Her last question was, "Are you claustrophobic?" Of course I’m claustrophobic! Would BBM be anything but claustrophobic!?! Luckily my sister knows a guy who does MRI’s for a living. She called him up and he said I would go into the tube feet first, and that since I’m tall, at minimum, my head will probably stick out of the tube. I’m thinking that a bottle of wine wouldn’t be a bad idea to bring along to the MRI. Stick that wine in an IV for me please.
While I’m ranting, I have to say that I can NOT WAIT until the November elections are over. My phone rings every 20 minutes with recorded voices saying things like, "My husband is Tex Evasion and he is not a liar. His opponent, Larry Liesalot is spreading horrible rumors and saying that we don’t pay our taxes when that just ain’t true."
Like I said before, tell me what you CAN DO for me (like can you get me an MRI any faster, for example), not what your opponent can’t, and be above all the lies and stupid stuff. I can’t stand it. You know, when I got out of junior high, I was so thankful. All the petty crap was supposed to stop, but you know what? It doesn’t. People do not grow up. Adults are just junior high kids in big boy/girl bodies.
I’m especially loving the calls from a certain candidate for Sheriff. His tag line is "Keep (this county) safe." Dude? Have you seen the crime rate around here? You may have been in office for 20-some years, but the string of shootings and other crimes nearby don’t indicate that this county is safe and/or that you’re doing anything to keep it that way. Get a new tag line, maybe one like "I’ll try harder" and mean it.
Also, charity calls. I gave to an organization a couple years ago when the tsunami hit and since then, they are bugging me non-stop. If they would use the money they use to send me letters every other week, and the money they spend on hiring people to call me every 15 minutes for eight days in a row before I finally pick up that pesky phone call from Nevada, then they wouldn’t have to ask me for money all the time. I’m looking at months and months of co-pays for rehab and most likely a surgery (the research I’ve done is not encouraging for rehab alone); and I seriously can not help the Sudan right now. I just can’t.
Although I love my alma mater, they need to leave me alone as well. I can’t stand how they just continue talking despite the fact that you’re protesting and telling them, "No, sorry, I can’t right now. It’s not a good time." It’s enough to make a girl scream. If I wasn’t waiting to hear back from my doctor about making a PT appointment, I’d turn the phone off completely.
When I was in labor with Lil C, I went to my "happy place" during the bad contractions. I imagined I was sitting on a beach in the Outer Banks. Maybe I should try to go to my happy place now.
But wait.
In this instance, my happy place makes me think about those funny guys with metal detectors who walk around the beach looking for treasure. Maybe I should get me one of those, in addition to the gorilla, so that I can pre-screen for any anomalies before my MRI. Anyone have a metal detector I can borrow?
***Is there a post of mine that you just loved? I’ve been asked to come up with my top ten posts and considering there are about 350 of them, I have no idea where to begin. So, if you have a favorite (or ten) drop me a comment or an email and let me know. Thanks!
***If you’d like to read about someone who can use their legs, check out The BBM Review. Ikigai108 just reviewed a cool heavy bag.
Monkey Business
Today, my husband and some of his work mates (one of them being my lovely sister) suggested that I get a monkey. Think I’m kidding?
I’m not. Who knew that there was stuff like this out there?
The monkey suggestion was meant to cheer me up, but it got me to thinking about how I’ll slap around Mr. BBM and some of his work mates, sister included when I’m feeling better how useful a monkey would really be.
As the video clearly shows, monkeys can feed you, help you brush you teeth, get you a drink, among other things. I’m sure the girls would get a giant kick out of a monkey retrieving them a cup of milk. It would be much more amusing than watching Mommy hobble around I’m sure. Of course, I’m not so sure I’d want a monkey doing those types of things for me, considering some of the things I’ve seen them do at the zoo. Wiping their butts with their fingers for one.
After retrieving Big I from school today though, I thought a monkey might be useful in other ways. Ever since the car incident, I’ve been collecting dirty looks from the Mom’s who gather to pick up their children at Big I’s school. The woman who hit me with her car told her insurance company that the guys had threatened her and that she was in "fear of her life." Please. They put their reverse lights on, but they were still many feet away from her when she backed up, and poorly, into my car. Because of this, her insurance told me they weren’t going to pay for the damage she did to my car, that I would have to go after the guys who put their reverse lights on (the ones who don’t have insurance) in order to get my car fixed.
Thankfully I had a witness who was able to vouch, along with me, that there was no threatening of any kind. Her insurance paid and my car was fixed last week. It wasn’t an expensive fix and it’s not like the woman who hit me paid out of her own pocket. In fact, I doubt her insurance rates will go up at all. But somehow, now I’m the recipient of the dirty looks in the parking lot. God forbid, I’d actually want my car to look the way it did before she hit me. God forbid, someone would take personal responsibility for not knowing how to back up. Grr.
So anyway, back to the monkey business. It would be pretty cool if you could maybe train the monkey to attack or at least mess with people a bit, perhaps fling a little poo in the school parking lot. A monkey would have been useful on the day I got hit. I could have had the monkey go jump on the woman’s windshield to warn her of the impending doom, and direct her attention forward where at least some of her attention should have been anyway.
It would certainly be a deterrent to anyone wanting to make trouble with a lady on crutches if there was a monkey sitting on my shoulder or perhaps my head. It would also be cool if I could train a monkey to find the remote or my car keys. Then I wouldn’t have to bug Mr. BBM about those irritating issues.
It would also be fabulous if the monkey could help Big I with her homework. That would rock. I doubt she’d give the monkey the attitude I sometimes get. Even cooler would be if the monkey could make dinner, or retrieve snacks for the kids who seem to want a snack every 10 minutes or so. . .
And break up sword fights. . . which is what my kids are doing right now. They so know they can get away with just about anything while Mommy is one knee down, and it’s just not cool. Take my end table, for example, which now has lovely pencil drawings all over it.
Maybe I need a gorilla to maintain order around here. I bet you a gorilla could carry me around too, eliminating the need for crutches.
Maybe I’ll have to look into that. . .
***The latest review is up at The BBM Review. If you’re in the market for a heavy bag, you won’t want to miss it; and yes, I’m feeling extremely sorry for myself that I wasn’t able to write the review myself. Something tells me Ikigai108 might be sort of happy about that. . .
Let the Pity Party Begin
When I wake up in the morning, I can almost forget what happened last week. It’s when I roll carefully over and see my crutches waiting for me by my nightstand that it all comes streaming back. I start the day off o.k. I try to put a little weight on my stiff, sore knee and think things are going o.k., but always, within about five tentative steps, the knee goes out on me, it hurts, I want to cry, and it’s back to the crutches I go.
Crutches suck. They chafe your armpits something terrible. I started with just the regular old crutches, used them for 15 minutes and woke up the next day with swollen, painful armpits. Then Mr. BBM strapped his warrior shin guards on top of them and that helped but I was already so sore and the shin guards were a little bulky. Yesterday, my Mom cut egg crate packing material to fit my crutches and used duct tape to keep it on there. Today, my armpits are feeling a little better.
I can’t say the same for my knee, left or right one, to be quite honest. I live in the house of stairs. Imagine a three level house, and then split it to make six separate levels. If I hang out in the living room, I have to maneuver seven steps either up or down to get to the bathroom. It’s a level up to my bedroom, a level down to the kitchen, two levels up to get to floor where the little girls rule, and three levels down to feed my cats.
So far, I haven’t figured out a good way to get down the stairs. I tried holding the railing and hopping down the stairs. That puts a lot of pressure on my right knee, which is getting sore under all the stress of carrying the weight of my whole body these days. But sitting to scoot down the stairs isn’t any better. That bend to get down on my butt is killing my right knee. If I don’t figure out how to fly soon, I’m going to have problems with both knees before I know it.
I’m usually not a crier, but as the day goes on, my knee hurts more, and the frustration of not being able to do simple things I did before gets really upsetting. I’ve spent the weekend googling "ACL injury" and coming up with all kinds of things that have made me cry.
Osteo-arthritis
Knee replacements
Grafts
Screws in bones
To say I am upset doesn’t even begin to scratch the surface. I am devastated.
If there is anyone out there who has suffered an ACL tear and was able to rehab it without surgery and return to the martial arts or another sport, I would LOVE to hear from you. Thanks to all my regular readers and some new ones as well, for all of your encouraging comments and thoughtful emails. I can’t thank you enough. . .
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