Good afternoon.... blogging bonus today!
After some reading up on improving my back and to keep the potential back spasms at bay, I came to the conclusion that in order to "build a better back", I need to do something different than my usual routine. After seeing my neighbor out and about, I asked him (since he is a phys ed major, teacher and trainer) what would be a good starting point to increase flexibility and strengthen core muscles. His answer.... Yoga. Well, that and light exercises that consist of walking, treading water in a pool, and utilizing a stability ball. After getting that plethora of information, I figured I would give yoga a try today. Forgetting to do my morning stretches that the Chiropractor told me to do, I was feeling the muscles in my back getting a bit stiff... so a yoga class should do the trick.
Cringing over a previous experience with yoga that I had, I figured that I should give it another try. Yep, I am one clumsy chick. I managed to knock a clock off the wall in a yoga class years ago. Kind-of disrupted the chi of the class doing that and never considered trying again. Acting like a tree is not my thing and the instructor allowed "new class members" to utilize the wall to stabilize themselves. As I thought I had my balance, I went to slide my hand off the wall. Instead of letting go... I slid my hand upwards and knocked the only clock in the room right off the wall.... Totally embarrassed about that to this day.
I have tried yoga another time and learned rather quickly that you need to drink a lot of water after the class is done.... Splitting headache within seconds was my teacher... OUCH! But the second place I went to... the class was smaller and I had a handful of options to keep my balance and it went pretty well. I just had a hard time grasping the whole concept of saying "Namaste" at the end of the class and felt a little weirded out.
Since the place I went to that offered a smaller class and more attention to their students, I felt as if I could really get the hang of it, but time was not on my side and never made it to a second class. Well, that and the splitting headache was making me think twice about doing it again. Unfortunately, the beginner class was not happening today and I wanted to start off light. So my neighbor, the trainer, suggested that I check the local YMCA since they have loads of classes every day and there are beginner classes every day. After looking up the class schedule, I found one that started at 1:00 in the afternoon (perfect!). I got dressed in a pair of yoga pants and a t-shirt, grabbed a full bottle of water and the yoga mat that I do happen to own (yes, that second place had me convinced that yoga was for me) and headed off to the gym. Hating to be late, I got there 25 minutes early and decided to take a 15 minute walk on the treadmill to warm up.
I enter the classroom. People with mats and water bottles are scattered all over the room. Some were meditating (which felt was odd since this is a beginner class), while others chatted until the instructor entered the room. As things started, I felt I had a fairly good grasp of things until, that is... the poses were being explained. As this instructor reminds us to keep our minds open and to release the stress of the day through breathing, my head could not let go of the grasp of WHAT IN THE HECK SHE WANTS US TO DO.
Bend this way, twist that way, put your foot behind you and twist outward, hands above your head, BREATHE, and if these poses are not producing a comfortable stretch.... you can thread your arm through here, bend that arm around there and get your fingers to touch each other... HUH? Even on my best day and even in the best shape I have ever been, I could NEVER twist that way! I thought that this woman is more than double jointed to get into positions like that... she has to be completely BONELESS! That whole zen feeling I was supposed to get vanished rather quickly. As I tried these poses that had me practically jam my face into my mat (BTW should have gotten a dousing of Febreeze because rubber and time sitting in the back of my closet by my shoes will make it stink), and reach in directions that I was not sure I could manage to reach... I felt my muscles stretch, relax and even my spine cracked. The end result was AWESOME, but the method was absolutely awful. Still got the splitting headache afterwards (apparently I did not bring enough water to class), but walked out feeling pretty darn good. Not sure if I did all the poses right since the class was big and I did not see any assistance from the teacher if I did anything wrong, but I did it.
I think I might try that other place I liked and see how that goes. I gotta give this yoga thing another chance... it might be the thing for me :)
Friday, April 27, 2012
Where did I miss the "bus"?
Kids: Interesting creatures. They grow up too fast and change way too quickly. I could picture it like it was yesterday... Darling little daughter dressing up like a princess, tromping around in my heels, and demanding to only watch the Disney princess movies (Belle was her favorite, then Cinderella, and then Ariel - in that order). Barbies, baby dolls and stuffed animals adorned her room. Pink was her favorite color. Sweet child, but stubborn beyond her age. Yep, I had a "girly girl" of a daughter. She may have a similar face, but she was nothing like me as a child.
Suddenly, that charming little girl started to change. Those days of dressing up like a princess for Halloween changed in a blink of an eye. Vampires and ghoulish creatures of the night was what she chose to dress up as. Why did I not see this coming? From thinking that makeup was just some lip balm to experimenting with eyeliner and eye shadow. This kid is changing faster than I thought I was prepared for.
Her interests changed, too. At first, she feared haunted houses and covered her eyes during a haunted hay ride (of which was so lame, I laughed through it), turned into a sudden interest in ghost hunting shows. Her interest in pushing the envelope for something scary has gotten quite intense. During this transition that I was not prepared for, DD has been asking to watch a movie I would never even consider watching.... Paranormal Activity.
You see, I am not one for thriller movies that offer suspense that get your pulse racing. Believe me, I am fully aware of Freddy Kruger from Nightmare on Elm Street, Psycho, Friday the 13th and Halloween. Even The Exorcist has made an impression upon my psyche. All classic horror films that get people jumping in their seats. That adrenaline rush of anticipation for something to go awry. While I have seen a few of these (unwillingly because I am not a fan of thrillers that you watch - I would rather read one than see a director's interpretation with actors doing their best portrayal of the characters), I would figure that there will be a time and place for DD to be exposed to things like this. I just do not feel that the ripe age of 12 is a good time.
While her persistence should be applauded that she is one to never give up, I just have my doubts that she should watch movies like this just yet. Being her mother, I know what is best, but I am not sure I can take any more nagging for permission to see it on Netflix. While I have tired to place the burden upon DH, I know (as well as she knows), that chances of her getting her request permitted would happen after she is the proper age to watch an "R" rated film. With the violence shown on TV, I have no doubt that this movie would fare much different. I just wonder if I am being the overbearing mother that smothers my child well into adulthood. I even tried to make it be mandatory that DH watch this movie with her since I have zero interest in watching it. While DH taunts DD with poorly acted horror films that mimic the over dramatics like "Killer Tomatoes from Mars" (or something like that), DD thinks that DH is even scared to see this movie. I know he is not afraid, in fact, he would probably enjoy it, but his regular TV choices leave little to no room for DD to watch that movie since Netflix is tied in to only one TV and that is the one DH watches when he is home.
As I wonder about my other friends that happen to have some well-adjusted children of their own, I wondered if I am holding her back. I never had interest in horror films as a child, nor do I have interest in them as an adult so is holding the "parent card" the right thing to do? Kids will sneak off to watch things that they shouldn't and kids will do things behind their parents back after the answer is "no". She is nearing that age of secrets and lies. While I believe I am quite privy to this phase, do I really want to create an atmosphere that makes this phase even more appealing? I am her mom first, then her friend, but where to draw the line. I would never offer an "R" rated film to the kids that have slept over at our home, but I just cannot see where a "G" or "PG-13" film can catch the interest of kids these days. Too much violence on TV as it is, video games becoming more graphic, music tapping into places that should not be tapped into... Desensitization started after the interest in Sesame Street stopped. My mind is made up. I just can't see 12 being the age to get the snot scared out of from a movie that can possibly blur the line between fake and real. I think it is time to take the wheel on this bus that DD is on and do some serious changes in her path because the upside of letting her watch this movie will only stop her incessant nagging and the downside would be that I would have to fix the damage from fear that I feel that she is not ready for.
Wednesday, April 25, 2012
A grain of truth?
Good morning! It is day 2 of recovery from a nightmare of a back spasm. The pain medications are fully worn off and still feeling good. 2 nights of restful sleep finally got my focus back and that is something I truly appreciate. I just never knew that the people around me finally got it that I am breakable.
As you know, Monday in the wee hours of 2:30 in the morning, I finally succumbed to asking for help. My ability to manage my back issues was no longer valid. Over 2 hours of agonizing pain pushed me to call 9-1-1 and get help of a medicinal kind that I cannot buy over the counter. The day that followed was in such a haze, I did not see things change for the better.
After DH brought me back home from the hospital, I did not see the concern on his face. How determined I was to go back home and do all that I believed was expected of me. Barely able to hold myself upright without feeling like I was going to fall, I pushed myself out of that hospital, climbed into his truck and with a pale shade of green in my skin from his driving skills mixed in with feeling dizzy and weak from being administered enough pain killers to probably kill a horse. Being told as he ran back out the door to return to work "to rest", I just could not. I needed someone there because I was scared. Feeling like I have lost complete control over everything, I turned to my mom for help. Just having her there made it easy for me to rest and feel assured that she could wake me up if something did not seem right. As she sat there, watching TV as I slept on the couch, I knew she was going to say something to DH. I tried my hardest to remain awake, but could not. DH came home for lunch and I was unconscious again. I totally missed his visit and was disappointed that I could not get back to working on my daily expectations to keep the house clean, get the laundry done, and cook dinner. I wanted to prove to DH that I was fine and nothing can keep me down for very long. I failed at that on Monday.
After my second of many naps throughout the day, I did talk to my mom. Nothing really registered regarding her talk with him while I laid there unconscious. My mom knew that and was banking on it. Ever the protector she is, I know she has only my best interests in mind. She is never afraid to speak her mind, either. The only thing I noticed in my haze of a day was how DH stepped up and helped me. For years, I have been taking out the garbage the night before pickup. I have been the one cooking dinner every night AND washing the dishes after everyone was done eating. Suddenly, in a blink of an eye... DH took out the garbage, he washed the dishes, and said nothing in that snarky tone about how the house was still a mess. Yes, being in pain, pacing the house, trying to find relief, kind-of left a huge mess in the house. While I was determined to still cook dinner, I even got the most heartfelt thanks from him. All those little annoyances seemed to become non-existent. We ate dinner as a family, we shared some time together in the same room, and help was offered without being asked.
I learned the following day what my mom and husband talked about.... it was about me. How I do so much, ask for so little and need a little more appreciation. Yes, I know I have pushed myself too hard over the years, but things have to get done and there have been no "takers" for those responsibilities. Feeling a little less thought of has been "the norm" no matter how hard I tried. I guess all it took was for one scare that I am breakable to make them see it. Well at least in DH's case. DD still prefers the easy life where everything seems to be done "magically" for her. But hearing how DH really caring, being concerned and offering to at least try is more than I could ever dream of. Not sure how long that will last. Creatures of habit do return to their routines eventually, but I am going to embrace this with all that I have and appreciate that somewhere deep within DH does really see what I have been trying to show him for so long. Love is more than just a feeling or a word spoken.... it is by the actions of consideration given willingly towards another... no matter how insignificant they may seem on the surface. Every little thing does count when you open your eyes.
Thanks for reading... Have a great day!
As you know, Monday in the wee hours of 2:30 in the morning, I finally succumbed to asking for help. My ability to manage my back issues was no longer valid. Over 2 hours of agonizing pain pushed me to call 9-1-1 and get help of a medicinal kind that I cannot buy over the counter. The day that followed was in such a haze, I did not see things change for the better.
After DH brought me back home from the hospital, I did not see the concern on his face. How determined I was to go back home and do all that I believed was expected of me. Barely able to hold myself upright without feeling like I was going to fall, I pushed myself out of that hospital, climbed into his truck and with a pale shade of green in my skin from his driving skills mixed in with feeling dizzy and weak from being administered enough pain killers to probably kill a horse. Being told as he ran back out the door to return to work "to rest", I just could not. I needed someone there because I was scared. Feeling like I have lost complete control over everything, I turned to my mom for help. Just having her there made it easy for me to rest and feel assured that she could wake me up if something did not seem right. As she sat there, watching TV as I slept on the couch, I knew she was going to say something to DH. I tried my hardest to remain awake, but could not. DH came home for lunch and I was unconscious again. I totally missed his visit and was disappointed that I could not get back to working on my daily expectations to keep the house clean, get the laundry done, and cook dinner. I wanted to prove to DH that I was fine and nothing can keep me down for very long. I failed at that on Monday.
After my second of many naps throughout the day, I did talk to my mom. Nothing really registered regarding her talk with him while I laid there unconscious. My mom knew that and was banking on it. Ever the protector she is, I know she has only my best interests in mind. She is never afraid to speak her mind, either. The only thing I noticed in my haze of a day was how DH stepped up and helped me. For years, I have been taking out the garbage the night before pickup. I have been the one cooking dinner every night AND washing the dishes after everyone was done eating. Suddenly, in a blink of an eye... DH took out the garbage, he washed the dishes, and said nothing in that snarky tone about how the house was still a mess. Yes, being in pain, pacing the house, trying to find relief, kind-of left a huge mess in the house. While I was determined to still cook dinner, I even got the most heartfelt thanks from him. All those little annoyances seemed to become non-existent. We ate dinner as a family, we shared some time together in the same room, and help was offered without being asked.
I learned the following day what my mom and husband talked about.... it was about me. How I do so much, ask for so little and need a little more appreciation. Yes, I know I have pushed myself too hard over the years, but things have to get done and there have been no "takers" for those responsibilities. Feeling a little less thought of has been "the norm" no matter how hard I tried. I guess all it took was for one scare that I am breakable to make them see it. Well at least in DH's case. DD still prefers the easy life where everything seems to be done "magically" for her. But hearing how DH really caring, being concerned and offering to at least try is more than I could ever dream of. Not sure how long that will last. Creatures of habit do return to their routines eventually, but I am going to embrace this with all that I have and appreciate that somewhere deep within DH does really see what I have been trying to show him for so long. Love is more than just a feeling or a word spoken.... it is by the actions of consideration given willingly towards another... no matter how insignificant they may seem on the surface. Every little thing does count when you open your eyes.
Thanks for reading... Have a great day!
Tuesday, April 24, 2012
Been there... never want to do that again...
Good morning! With finally a full night's rest and waking up remotely pain free, I am feeling pretty good. The past few days... well, not so much. I know that I have back issues. This started years ago. I have a few ideas where this issue started, but I still go back to blaming a more recent incident for making my back spasm so much.... Here is the story that I have been sticking to.....
My first recollection of when I injured my back was when I was 16. I was fighting with a person I was dating and it became violent. That person wanted my attention regarding his jealous rage and slammed the middle of my back over the top of the car I was driving (my mom's old 1979 Chevy Nova). There was a raised edge of trim over the door windows that my back managed to hit. Being lifted by my arms and pushed into the car was not fun, nor appreciated. I broke up with that guy faster than the fight we had. I really did not have that many issues following that incident, but injuries like that never are forgotten.
Fast forward to 2007... After a few rear-end accidents that caused some whiplash, I figured that my back issues would remain random. After seeing a chiropractor for the last accident, I started to feel more in control of the random (and I mean very random with large gaps of being pain free) spasms. But in 2007, I started having some issues that created a band of pain so intense that it felt like I was wearing a belt made of fire and spikes which ended up being a gall bladder issue. Trying my hardest to be active during a vacation to Disney World was hard. Spending the day feeling fine and writhing in pain every night. Curiosity got the best of me and saw the doctor. When I was to go in for yet another test that would rule out gall bladder as the issue, I crumbled to the floor and ended up in the hospital. Got that test a few days earlier than scheduled and found out that I had sand in my gall bladder. SAND??? I never knew you can have sand... stones maybe, but not sand. Well, that is what I had... sand that shifted every time I laid down to sleep to cause the agonizing pain and randomly shifted throughout the day to make me miserable. Knowing that getting rid of this thing would be the solution and to get back to being "pain free". I was thrilled!! After the surgery, I had a solid week of being free from the agonizing band of hellish pain. I am cured, right? Nope.
Over the past 5 years (it will be 5 years in May), I have been having issues with my back at a random, but more frequent rate. Pain in varying places along my spine that radiate to the front of my body. The most prevalent area of pain is that hellish band of misery that still wakes me in the middle of the night. Between using ice packs, Tylenol, Advil or Aleve pain relievers with stretches and a well placed heating pad... I was able to manage okay. When things got bad I would visit the chiropractor, get adjusted and be fine for a week or so. I have ended up in the emergency room a few times over the course of the past 5 years (most of them in the first year after my surgery) to be told that those pains that mimic gall bladder issues are just "phantom pains". PHANTOM?? They sure are not made up in my head because I would never wish this type of misery upon my worst enemy (if I ever had one), but these doctors play it off as something I will to have happen. What a crock of B.S., if you ask me. After looking it up, it is possible to have pain where something once was, but no longer is there. I also learned that a person's diet needs to change when the gall bladder is removed. Thinking back to when I am having these issues... I look at what I eat, what I have done for the days prior, and even if there is some reason for this to happen that can be considered a milestone to something else (aka a woman's monthly "visitor"). Still there is not rhyme or reason that I can peg this pain from, but have to deal with it the best I can. I was told that back issues that stem from nerve damage from surgery can play a big role in frequent flare ups... This has been my final findings to why I am having issues with my back. Jabbing tools in my body to remove a gall bladder probably damaged some nerves that can cause radial pain at random times. There is no cure for that... just learning to deal with it is a lifelong journey.
Well, this past Friday I was having some back issues. I figured it was from the coughing and sneezing from a major hit in allergies. Add a little stress from an upcoming event and BAM... poor sleeping from my back issues. I figured that once everything settled down, I would be fine. Apparently not. The pain got worse and worse. The chiropractor's office was to open on Monday and if I could get there... everything would be back to manageable.... My body did not want to wait and sent me into a tirade of spasms and pain that washed over me in waves. I tried my full arsenal of "what to do" and it was failing miserably. The thermostat in the house was on the fritz and it was 84 degrees. Uncomfortably warm and melting my only reusable ice pack far too fast was not going to work. After seeing the thermostat on the fritz, I shut the thing off with hopes things would cool off. Sweating profusely, I thought I was having a heart attack. The pain was more intense than I ever experienced. Hyperventilating to control the pain, my mouth got painfully dry. No tears left to shed for release of the pain, I woke up DH to inform him that I have to call 9-1-1 and get an ambulance to pick me up. Crawling down the stairs, waiting for the ambulance to arrive, DH turns on the lights, unlocks the front door for me and watches me get hauled off to the hospital. Yep, the "woman of steel" that tolerates just about everything has fallen victim to pain so immense that she is screaming in a very strained voice for help. He asked for me to call him to pick me up when I get released since I refused to have him drive me. I was barely able to move to get myself in the truck to be driven.
After getting into the ambulance, I was given a pain killer via I.V. before leaving the front of my home. The roads are miserable on the way to the hospital with all those potholes that the driver could not miss, the lack of good suspension in the truck reverberated every jolt to my already aching spine. First dose of pain killer did not work. Got 5 more while spending the next 5 hours in the E.R.. Each one feeling more and more like a fast spin in a hot room. Not liking this feeling one bit. When things finally started to settle down, I was given one more dose for the road and released. Groggy, dizzy, nauseated, dying of thirst, and in need of something to eat, I call DH to pick me up. The nurse hands me the forms to sign for release, quickly explains what I need to do, hands me some papers with a prescription and lets me walk out of the E.R.. What is that all about? Still riddled with questions, but so out of it... I wait for DH to arrive and take me home. I call the hospital with my questions once I got home, call my mother to come over and watch over me because I was terrified having so much pain killer/muscle relaxer in my system and no food in it. My mom, that wonderful woman came over and took care of me. DH helped me with taking out the garbage for the night and did the dishes. He even offered to make dinner, but I felt coherent enough to boil some water to make a pot of pasta.
I did sleep most of yesterday away and even had a full night of sleep overnight. Awake with a slight headache today, I am thankful that I am not hurting anymore. My Uncle gave my mom some homeopathic stuff for back pain that works well for him and worked for my mom. I took one after eating dinner and went to bed after a short nap on the couch. I think this stuff has some serious potential since I was feeling like I was sunburned after getting the muscles to relax from those pain meds the hospital and ambulance gave me, but feel so much better today. I figured that the sensitive feeling I had all over my body was from tense muscles relaxing and would feel that residual pain for at least a few more days, but here I am... facing a new day and feeling just fine. Thanks mom! And be sure to thank my Uncle Bob, too!
Well, back to normal is what I need to be treating this day. I will take it easy, but I have way too much stuff to do. Have a good one everybody!!
My first recollection of when I injured my back was when I was 16. I was fighting with a person I was dating and it became violent. That person wanted my attention regarding his jealous rage and slammed the middle of my back over the top of the car I was driving (my mom's old 1979 Chevy Nova). There was a raised edge of trim over the door windows that my back managed to hit. Being lifted by my arms and pushed into the car was not fun, nor appreciated. I broke up with that guy faster than the fight we had. I really did not have that many issues following that incident, but injuries like that never are forgotten.
Fast forward to 2007... After a few rear-end accidents that caused some whiplash, I figured that my back issues would remain random. After seeing a chiropractor for the last accident, I started to feel more in control of the random (and I mean very random with large gaps of being pain free) spasms. But in 2007, I started having some issues that created a band of pain so intense that it felt like I was wearing a belt made of fire and spikes which ended up being a gall bladder issue. Trying my hardest to be active during a vacation to Disney World was hard. Spending the day feeling fine and writhing in pain every night. Curiosity got the best of me and saw the doctor. When I was to go in for yet another test that would rule out gall bladder as the issue, I crumbled to the floor and ended up in the hospital. Got that test a few days earlier than scheduled and found out that I had sand in my gall bladder. SAND??? I never knew you can have sand... stones maybe, but not sand. Well, that is what I had... sand that shifted every time I laid down to sleep to cause the agonizing pain and randomly shifted throughout the day to make me miserable. Knowing that getting rid of this thing would be the solution and to get back to being "pain free". I was thrilled!! After the surgery, I had a solid week of being free from the agonizing band of hellish pain. I am cured, right? Nope.
Over the past 5 years (it will be 5 years in May), I have been having issues with my back at a random, but more frequent rate. Pain in varying places along my spine that radiate to the front of my body. The most prevalent area of pain is that hellish band of misery that still wakes me in the middle of the night. Between using ice packs, Tylenol, Advil or Aleve pain relievers with stretches and a well placed heating pad... I was able to manage okay. When things got bad I would visit the chiropractor, get adjusted and be fine for a week or so. I have ended up in the emergency room a few times over the course of the past 5 years (most of them in the first year after my surgery) to be told that those pains that mimic gall bladder issues are just "phantom pains". PHANTOM?? They sure are not made up in my head because I would never wish this type of misery upon my worst enemy (if I ever had one), but these doctors play it off as something I will to have happen. What a crock of B.S., if you ask me. After looking it up, it is possible to have pain where something once was, but no longer is there. I also learned that a person's diet needs to change when the gall bladder is removed. Thinking back to when I am having these issues... I look at what I eat, what I have done for the days prior, and even if there is some reason for this to happen that can be considered a milestone to something else (aka a woman's monthly "visitor"). Still there is not rhyme or reason that I can peg this pain from, but have to deal with it the best I can. I was told that back issues that stem from nerve damage from surgery can play a big role in frequent flare ups... This has been my final findings to why I am having issues with my back. Jabbing tools in my body to remove a gall bladder probably damaged some nerves that can cause radial pain at random times. There is no cure for that... just learning to deal with it is a lifelong journey.
Well, this past Friday I was having some back issues. I figured it was from the coughing and sneezing from a major hit in allergies. Add a little stress from an upcoming event and BAM... poor sleeping from my back issues. I figured that once everything settled down, I would be fine. Apparently not. The pain got worse and worse. The chiropractor's office was to open on Monday and if I could get there... everything would be back to manageable.... My body did not want to wait and sent me into a tirade of spasms and pain that washed over me in waves. I tried my full arsenal of "what to do" and it was failing miserably. The thermostat in the house was on the fritz and it was 84 degrees. Uncomfortably warm and melting my only reusable ice pack far too fast was not going to work. After seeing the thermostat on the fritz, I shut the thing off with hopes things would cool off. Sweating profusely, I thought I was having a heart attack. The pain was more intense than I ever experienced. Hyperventilating to control the pain, my mouth got painfully dry. No tears left to shed for release of the pain, I woke up DH to inform him that I have to call 9-1-1 and get an ambulance to pick me up. Crawling down the stairs, waiting for the ambulance to arrive, DH turns on the lights, unlocks the front door for me and watches me get hauled off to the hospital. Yep, the "woman of steel" that tolerates just about everything has fallen victim to pain so immense that she is screaming in a very strained voice for help. He asked for me to call him to pick me up when I get released since I refused to have him drive me. I was barely able to move to get myself in the truck to be driven.
After getting into the ambulance, I was given a pain killer via I.V. before leaving the front of my home. The roads are miserable on the way to the hospital with all those potholes that the driver could not miss, the lack of good suspension in the truck reverberated every jolt to my already aching spine. First dose of pain killer did not work. Got 5 more while spending the next 5 hours in the E.R.. Each one feeling more and more like a fast spin in a hot room. Not liking this feeling one bit. When things finally started to settle down, I was given one more dose for the road and released. Groggy, dizzy, nauseated, dying of thirst, and in need of something to eat, I call DH to pick me up. The nurse hands me the forms to sign for release, quickly explains what I need to do, hands me some papers with a prescription and lets me walk out of the E.R.. What is that all about? Still riddled with questions, but so out of it... I wait for DH to arrive and take me home. I call the hospital with my questions once I got home, call my mother to come over and watch over me because I was terrified having so much pain killer/muscle relaxer in my system and no food in it. My mom, that wonderful woman came over and took care of me. DH helped me with taking out the garbage for the night and did the dishes. He even offered to make dinner, but I felt coherent enough to boil some water to make a pot of pasta.
I did sleep most of yesterday away and even had a full night of sleep overnight. Awake with a slight headache today, I am thankful that I am not hurting anymore. My Uncle gave my mom some homeopathic stuff for back pain that works well for him and worked for my mom. I took one after eating dinner and went to bed after a short nap on the couch. I think this stuff has some serious potential since I was feeling like I was sunburned after getting the muscles to relax from those pain meds the hospital and ambulance gave me, but feel so much better today. I figured that the sensitive feeling I had all over my body was from tense muscles relaxing and would feel that residual pain for at least a few more days, but here I am... facing a new day and feeling just fine. Thanks mom! And be sure to thank my Uncle Bob, too!
Well, back to normal is what I need to be treating this day. I will take it easy, but I have way too much stuff to do. Have a good one everybody!!
Sunday, April 22, 2012
When it rains, it pours... well, maybe a slight drizzle ;)
Good morning! Ever notice when you have advance notice of something that has to be attended to, we seem to have a hard time getting back to a regular schedule for a few days afterward? I know, I know... this question sounds a little weird. Let me explain it this way.....
I knew I had a change in my daily routine roughly 3 weeks ago. My usual Saturday thing is to get up around 6, take a shower, get dressed, put on my makeup and ease myself into greeting a day at the salon. By the time I finish dragging my heels (since I am not really a morning person), this simple task takes me roughly an hour and a half before I leave for work. Once I leave, I stop by the local convenience store to get something to drink and even stop by the McDonalds for a breakfast sandwich. Yes, there is a Weight Watcher-points figured out- reasonable choice breakfast sandwich. Then I get myself to work, haul my equipment in, set up and face the day that technically starts at 8am. Well, there was a fashion show for the local church this weekend and the salon I work for volunteered their services of hair and makeup. With Saturdays being the busiest day of the week, we accommodated for this show by taking care of these people before we were to open and partially into our regular hours of operation, thus making it necessary for some of the girls at the salon to get to work before their day was to begin. Now, it was only an hour earlier for me, but it somehow put me in time management mode to start my day even earlier. I hate being late for things. Knowing that I would have to get up an hour earlier should not be such a big deal, but as I stated before... I need more time in the morning to get into that "happy to be awake" zone. I planned out how I needed to do this, I got prepared in advance, and I had my alarm clock set to wake me an hour earlier. Knowing that I was as prepared as I could be, even if the day was to not go smoothly, I felt prepared.
Well, after spending the week prior to this getting ready with how I was to do things... I forgot to take my allergy medicine before the weather was to take on its turn. My allergies hit hard and fast and the worst of it hit the day before this event. Oh joy! Sniffles, sneezes, coughing, itchy eyes, and sore throat bundled with knocking my back out of whack made it really hard to get a decent night's rest. Up roughly every half hour, pacing the floors to get my nose to "unstuff" since the decongestant can do only so much, to laying on the floor to get the spasm in my back to settle from the tossing and turning when I was able to sleep, I knew I was up for a challenge. By 4:30 in the morning, I gave up the hope of getting any sleep and proceeded to get ready for the day ahead. Showered, dressed and ready, I did not look at the clock before I decided to leave. I was a half hour ahead of schedule. Adrenaline pumping from being psyched that I had a fairly full day ahead of me, I get myself a caffeine free soda at the store, got my breakfast sandwich, and waited in the parking lot of work for someone with a key to let me in so I could set up. My day had me just working everywhere.
I get my first client at 7. I just finished setting up. Makeup was the start of my day. While young faces are the easiest to work on, my first two clients were much older and more of a challenge, but the adrenaline running through my veins made easy work of what I had to do. Being on a time crunch, I was actually ahead of schedule. Then my next client (another makeup) came in late. No worries, she had to wait. I got 2 more makeups to do that did not make an appointment. Then, after finally catching up with all the makeup to do, I get 2 more makeups and missed out on an updo, but did do a little makeup on that client. I get a break from the makeup station and return to my hair station to do a haircut. Then I was off to do a manicure on a client. While I am able to do nails, I am not the biggest fan of that job. My back does not like being hunched over like that. Then off to do a highlight and color touch up, another haircut. Somewhere I got a change to eat a sandwich, but I ate it so fast I did not get a chance to taste it. By the time I was finished... it was 4:00 in the afternoon. That was an awesome day in my book! Darn shame that all of that makeup was done for free for this fashion show. If it was a charged service, I would have gotten the opportunity to have a really nice paycheck in my future, but alas, I won't. I love my job and even if I did it all for free, I would still love it, but I do like to have a little something for my efforts. Well... onward I go....
After all of that work, I return home to make dinner for the family and crash on the couch. That adrenaline and being so busy had me forget that I have a raging, full blown allergy issue to deal with... and between the fact that the shoes I wore to work have virtually no arch support and these allergies... once I get a chance to rest... I felt like I was hit by a bus. Figuring that I would get some good rest once I take something for the allergies that will knock me out was apparently not in the cards for me. Yes, I took the medicine, yes, I took a nice nap (only 2 hours), but sleep would elude me again. Another night of tossing and turning.. of pacing and stretching, and waking up every half hour feeling the fear of oversleeping again makes me wonder if I have some residual effects of something similar to OCD. Yet again, I was up before the sun rose... UGH! This bites!
Well, off to get this day going. Gotta make the grocery list, make breakfast, get the dishes done, and go back to work... I offered to do some work on a co-worker's hair... In fact, 2 co-workers.
Come Monday.... I am going to the doctor and the Chiropractor. It is time to focus on me just a little.
Have a great day everyone and thanks for reading :)
I knew I had a change in my daily routine roughly 3 weeks ago. My usual Saturday thing is to get up around 6, take a shower, get dressed, put on my makeup and ease myself into greeting a day at the salon. By the time I finish dragging my heels (since I am not really a morning person), this simple task takes me roughly an hour and a half before I leave for work. Once I leave, I stop by the local convenience store to get something to drink and even stop by the McDonalds for a breakfast sandwich. Yes, there is a Weight Watcher-points figured out- reasonable choice breakfast sandwich. Then I get myself to work, haul my equipment in, set up and face the day that technically starts at 8am. Well, there was a fashion show for the local church this weekend and the salon I work for volunteered their services of hair and makeup. With Saturdays being the busiest day of the week, we accommodated for this show by taking care of these people before we were to open and partially into our regular hours of operation, thus making it necessary for some of the girls at the salon to get to work before their day was to begin. Now, it was only an hour earlier for me, but it somehow put me in time management mode to start my day even earlier. I hate being late for things. Knowing that I would have to get up an hour earlier should not be such a big deal, but as I stated before... I need more time in the morning to get into that "happy to be awake" zone. I planned out how I needed to do this, I got prepared in advance, and I had my alarm clock set to wake me an hour earlier. Knowing that I was as prepared as I could be, even if the day was to not go smoothly, I felt prepared.
Well, after spending the week prior to this getting ready with how I was to do things... I forgot to take my allergy medicine before the weather was to take on its turn. My allergies hit hard and fast and the worst of it hit the day before this event. Oh joy! Sniffles, sneezes, coughing, itchy eyes, and sore throat bundled with knocking my back out of whack made it really hard to get a decent night's rest. Up roughly every half hour, pacing the floors to get my nose to "unstuff" since the decongestant can do only so much, to laying on the floor to get the spasm in my back to settle from the tossing and turning when I was able to sleep, I knew I was up for a challenge. By 4:30 in the morning, I gave up the hope of getting any sleep and proceeded to get ready for the day ahead. Showered, dressed and ready, I did not look at the clock before I decided to leave. I was a half hour ahead of schedule. Adrenaline pumping from being psyched that I had a fairly full day ahead of me, I get myself a caffeine free soda at the store, got my breakfast sandwich, and waited in the parking lot of work for someone with a key to let me in so I could set up. My day had me just working everywhere.
I get my first client at 7. I just finished setting up. Makeup was the start of my day. While young faces are the easiest to work on, my first two clients were much older and more of a challenge, but the adrenaline running through my veins made easy work of what I had to do. Being on a time crunch, I was actually ahead of schedule. Then my next client (another makeup) came in late. No worries, she had to wait. I got 2 more makeups to do that did not make an appointment. Then, after finally catching up with all the makeup to do, I get 2 more makeups and missed out on an updo, but did do a little makeup on that client. I get a break from the makeup station and return to my hair station to do a haircut. Then I was off to do a manicure on a client. While I am able to do nails, I am not the biggest fan of that job. My back does not like being hunched over like that. Then off to do a highlight and color touch up, another haircut. Somewhere I got a change to eat a sandwich, but I ate it so fast I did not get a chance to taste it. By the time I was finished... it was 4:00 in the afternoon. That was an awesome day in my book! Darn shame that all of that makeup was done for free for this fashion show. If it was a charged service, I would have gotten the opportunity to have a really nice paycheck in my future, but alas, I won't. I love my job and even if I did it all for free, I would still love it, but I do like to have a little something for my efforts. Well... onward I go....
After all of that work, I return home to make dinner for the family and crash on the couch. That adrenaline and being so busy had me forget that I have a raging, full blown allergy issue to deal with... and between the fact that the shoes I wore to work have virtually no arch support and these allergies... once I get a chance to rest... I felt like I was hit by a bus. Figuring that I would get some good rest once I take something for the allergies that will knock me out was apparently not in the cards for me. Yes, I took the medicine, yes, I took a nice nap (only 2 hours), but sleep would elude me again. Another night of tossing and turning.. of pacing and stretching, and waking up every half hour feeling the fear of oversleeping again makes me wonder if I have some residual effects of something similar to OCD. Yet again, I was up before the sun rose... UGH! This bites!
Well, off to get this day going. Gotta make the grocery list, make breakfast, get the dishes done, and go back to work... I offered to do some work on a co-worker's hair... In fact, 2 co-workers.
Come Monday.... I am going to the doctor and the Chiropractor. It is time to focus on me just a little.
Have a great day everyone and thanks for reading :)
Tuesday, April 17, 2012
The natural defense mechanism....
You are climbing and climbing,
nearing the peak.
You reach the top
and rest for a moment.
Looking down
(wow, that is a far way down)
you feel your heart race.
Adrenaline starts pumping
it is fight or flight time.
You descend down
really fast.
Screaming with arms flailing
some will laugh
others won't.
The roller coaster comes to a stop.
You get off and throw up...
Life is similar to that roller coaster ride. What we do with it is by our own design.
The natural defense mechanism differs from person to person. Hearing terrible news puts us in defense mode. While we all would like to remain calm, cool and collected at all times.... We all have a moment that makes us take a step back, but we manage to figure out our options and embrace the inevitable.
I went to visit a friend in the hospital yesterday. She is an older woman that I have gotten to know over the past year or so. We work together.
This woman is probably one of the most generous people I know. She thinks of everyone else first, she strives to make everyone feel special, and appreciates everything people do. She loves to cook and by the size of my waist.... she is really good at cooking. Of course, it never hurts to be of an Italian heritage. Her and I are similar in nature. We are generous to a fault and always offering a smile. I can cook, but I am not a great one.... just average. I might have a little talent, but I just know how to follow a recipe.
One time, I offered to do her makeup (just for fun), and in appreciation of doing that, she fed my family with some delicious stuffed shells with homemade tomato sauce. After fixing some of her jewelry, she gave me even more food. Always with a compliment and a smile... she is someone that warms the soul.
Well, she was not feeling all that well a couple of weeks ago. After endless nagging for her to go see a doctor by everyone at the salon where we work at, she finally goes. She was admitted into the hospital. What we thought was a simple gall bladder issue (the symptoms were the same), ended up being something that gave her the invisible expiration stamp on the bottom of her foot. She has stage 4 cancer blanketing her liver, the bile ducts, her gall bladder, and her pancreas. This blanket has been strangling the connective area between all 3. As I talked to her, I had to sit down. Hearing the "C" word can knock anyone off their feet. As I asked about her options, she appeared to have embraced this. Putting her faith in God and the doctors, but accepting the lousy hand that was dealt to her. As I tried to remain upbeat for her... internally I was freaking out. As I looked upon a person I call friend and see her remain so calm as she tells me that if she remained determined to not see the doctor... she would have only 3 months of life to live. Not knowing how much time she really has with the help of the doctors concerns me. Stage 4 is serious. There is not enough time to do all that you wish to get done. All those personal things you set your mind to do before you die. How is it that she can be so calm in the face of what I see is the most fearful thing to face? She talked about getting out of the hospital and go back to work at the salon... making thank you gift bags and write thank you cards for the new clients. Is this her defense mechanism? To focus on everyone and everything else but herself? Loved by many, all of the visitors she has every day (including me), sure can be a nice distraction to the facts. With a smile on her face and not one tear in her eyes, I see her as the strongest woman I know. I know of a few more really strong women, but this is about her today.
Driving home, tears ran down my face. A person that has been capable of touching my soul in a remotely short amount of time has been given a time limit... an expiration date... an end to her story. I pray that she does recover, that she does have more time, and gets to stay just a little longer. Call me selfish, but I am not ready to say goodbye.
So.... how would you handle devastating news like that? What part of your natural defense mechanism kicks in to handle something like this if it was you? Would you become solemn? Or would you grab on with both hands and make the most of the ride that we call life?
Thanks for reading and have a great day....
nearing the peak.
You reach the top
and rest for a moment.
Looking down
(wow, that is a far way down)
you feel your heart race.
Adrenaline starts pumping
it is fight or flight time.
You descend down
really fast.
Screaming with arms flailing
some will laugh
others won't.
The roller coaster comes to a stop.
You get off and throw up...
Life is similar to that roller coaster ride. What we do with it is by our own design.
The natural defense mechanism differs from person to person. Hearing terrible news puts us in defense mode. While we all would like to remain calm, cool and collected at all times.... We all have a moment that makes us take a step back, but we manage to figure out our options and embrace the inevitable.
I went to visit a friend in the hospital yesterday. She is an older woman that I have gotten to know over the past year or so. We work together.
This woman is probably one of the most generous people I know. She thinks of everyone else first, she strives to make everyone feel special, and appreciates everything people do. She loves to cook and by the size of my waist.... she is really good at cooking. Of course, it never hurts to be of an Italian heritage. Her and I are similar in nature. We are generous to a fault and always offering a smile. I can cook, but I am not a great one.... just average. I might have a little talent, but I just know how to follow a recipe.
One time, I offered to do her makeup (just for fun), and in appreciation of doing that, she fed my family with some delicious stuffed shells with homemade tomato sauce. After fixing some of her jewelry, she gave me even more food. Always with a compliment and a smile... she is someone that warms the soul.
Well, she was not feeling all that well a couple of weeks ago. After endless nagging for her to go see a doctor by everyone at the salon where we work at, she finally goes. She was admitted into the hospital. What we thought was a simple gall bladder issue (the symptoms were the same), ended up being something that gave her the invisible expiration stamp on the bottom of her foot. She has stage 4 cancer blanketing her liver, the bile ducts, her gall bladder, and her pancreas. This blanket has been strangling the connective area between all 3. As I talked to her, I had to sit down. Hearing the "C" word can knock anyone off their feet. As I asked about her options, she appeared to have embraced this. Putting her faith in God and the doctors, but accepting the lousy hand that was dealt to her. As I tried to remain upbeat for her... internally I was freaking out. As I looked upon a person I call friend and see her remain so calm as she tells me that if she remained determined to not see the doctor... she would have only 3 months of life to live. Not knowing how much time she really has with the help of the doctors concerns me. Stage 4 is serious. There is not enough time to do all that you wish to get done. All those personal things you set your mind to do before you die. How is it that she can be so calm in the face of what I see is the most fearful thing to face? She talked about getting out of the hospital and go back to work at the salon... making thank you gift bags and write thank you cards for the new clients. Is this her defense mechanism? To focus on everyone and everything else but herself? Loved by many, all of the visitors she has every day (including me), sure can be a nice distraction to the facts. With a smile on her face and not one tear in her eyes, I see her as the strongest woman I know. I know of a few more really strong women, but this is about her today.
Driving home, tears ran down my face. A person that has been capable of touching my soul in a remotely short amount of time has been given a time limit... an expiration date... an end to her story. I pray that she does recover, that she does have more time, and gets to stay just a little longer. Call me selfish, but I am not ready to say goodbye.
So.... how would you handle devastating news like that? What part of your natural defense mechanism kicks in to handle something like this if it was you? Would you become solemn? Or would you grab on with both hands and make the most of the ride that we call life?
Thanks for reading and have a great day....
Monday, April 16, 2012
Just a simple phrase....
Flipping the channels while the laundry was being attended to, I come across the TV reality show.... "RuPaul's Drag Race". I am not sure if it is just curiosity that lured me in to watching, or seeing a man transform into a very convincing woman that astounds me to keep watching, but I did. That show offers more internal struggles than I figured it would show. These contestants have some serious baggage attached. Being outed for being different is the center of the show. Seeing and listening to these men struggle with their individuality and battling with acceptance within the group is something everyone deals with. Just not all men desire to pose as women, nor does all women strive to look like a man. We all struggle for acceptance and validation.
As I watched these men battle it out at the end... the two that received the lowest scores in the challenge need to convince RuPaul that they are worthy competitors via lip-syncing to a random song. As RuPaul decides to gets to stay and who gets to "sashay away", she tells everyone that gets to stay this one phrase.....
"How in the hell is anyone gonna love you if you do not love yourself... can I get an AMEN."
That phrase is so true. How does a person truly feel loved if the do not love themselves first? Maybe that is the problem I feel I have. I am seeking acceptance and validation of love from others while I clearly have an issue with loving myself. I am most critical when it comes to me. I see myself as fat, unattractive, and droll. Compliments offered my way regarding my eyes being pretty or my hair looking great seem to never boost anything more than a "thank you" and silently disagreeing with the person. When someone says it appears that I have lost some weight, I downplay the sentiment and think about how much farther I still need to go. In fact, I seem to sabotage my ability to really follow through with being consistent when it comes to my diet. This has to be self destructive behavior stemmed from not loving who I am. As I try feverishly for feeling accepted, loved and validated as someone people like, the inner resentment of myself holds me back from truly feeling loved. This probably causes a wall to build around me that others see and keep their distance. My fear of rejection keeps me shackled to accepting every ill-conceived action that people do care, but only if I submit to their needs instead of my own. I just cannot demand attention and feel good about it. Maybe that is why I do more for others than I do for myself. I am the one that bends all the time. I am the one that changes to make a situation work. I am the one that accepts less when I should be demanding for more.
Never to impose or demand attention, I put myself out there ready to accept getting hurt. Kind of like being an "on call" punching bag. While I know that there is a line drawn and that I would never take a physical punch to the face, I seem to be more apt to taking verbal blows. I take criticism to heart and let compliments roll off of me like water off of a duck's back. I do think of others before I think of myself. In fact, probably a little too much. I know that I have been taken advantage of, but accepted it because I made the happiness of others the focus of my energy.
Now, how does someone that chooses to love others first, figure how to love themselves? I really do not know. I know that something I blogged about in the past about "the inner awesome" has a lot to do with self love. I just never realized how important is was. When life humbles you (having a child does that), that self-love takes a back burner. It is finding the right balance of self love is what I need. Loving myself enough embrace others without appearing egotistical. To become more apt to accepting the kindness of others when I obviously have turned my back to truly accepting compliments. To be more accepting of who I am and stop being so overly critical. To validate the fact that I am someone worthy of love and truly embrace all that comes my way.... To be the best that I can possibly be and achieve my goals in life where my lack of self love has sabotaged me. I now acknowledged it, I need to embrace it... I just need to figure how to do it.
Thanks for reading... have a great day.
As I watched these men battle it out at the end... the two that received the lowest scores in the challenge need to convince RuPaul that they are worthy competitors via lip-syncing to a random song. As RuPaul decides to gets to stay and who gets to "sashay away", she tells everyone that gets to stay this one phrase.....
"How in the hell is anyone gonna love you if you do not love yourself... can I get an AMEN."
That phrase is so true. How does a person truly feel loved if the do not love themselves first? Maybe that is the problem I feel I have. I am seeking acceptance and validation of love from others while I clearly have an issue with loving myself. I am most critical when it comes to me. I see myself as fat, unattractive, and droll. Compliments offered my way regarding my eyes being pretty or my hair looking great seem to never boost anything more than a "thank you" and silently disagreeing with the person. When someone says it appears that I have lost some weight, I downplay the sentiment and think about how much farther I still need to go. In fact, I seem to sabotage my ability to really follow through with being consistent when it comes to my diet. This has to be self destructive behavior stemmed from not loving who I am. As I try feverishly for feeling accepted, loved and validated as someone people like, the inner resentment of myself holds me back from truly feeling loved. This probably causes a wall to build around me that others see and keep their distance. My fear of rejection keeps me shackled to accepting every ill-conceived action that people do care, but only if I submit to their needs instead of my own. I just cannot demand attention and feel good about it. Maybe that is why I do more for others than I do for myself. I am the one that bends all the time. I am the one that changes to make a situation work. I am the one that accepts less when I should be demanding for more.
Never to impose or demand attention, I put myself out there ready to accept getting hurt. Kind of like being an "on call" punching bag. While I know that there is a line drawn and that I would never take a physical punch to the face, I seem to be more apt to taking verbal blows. I take criticism to heart and let compliments roll off of me like water off of a duck's back. I do think of others before I think of myself. In fact, probably a little too much. I know that I have been taken advantage of, but accepted it because I made the happiness of others the focus of my energy.
Now, how does someone that chooses to love others first, figure how to love themselves? I really do not know. I know that something I blogged about in the past about "the inner awesome" has a lot to do with self love. I just never realized how important is was. When life humbles you (having a child does that), that self-love takes a back burner. It is finding the right balance of self love is what I need. Loving myself enough embrace others without appearing egotistical. To become more apt to accepting the kindness of others when I obviously have turned my back to truly accepting compliments. To be more accepting of who I am and stop being so overly critical. To validate the fact that I am someone worthy of love and truly embrace all that comes my way.... To be the best that I can possibly be and achieve my goals in life where my lack of self love has sabotaged me. I now acknowledged it, I need to embrace it... I just need to figure how to do it.
Thanks for reading... have a great day.
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