My alarm went off for yoga. When I had problems rolling over to shut it off and then had to use the bedpost to stand up in order to get to the bathroom, I figured I probably couldn't make it from the car to the door of the yoga studio, so I went back to bed, hoping to rest it off a bit more.
When I got up later, I realized that finishing the house for our party was NOT going to happen with me in the state I was in. I called Kaiser to set up an appointment.
They don't take appointments on New Year's Eve. They only offer urgent care.
Here's how much fun it is to have Kaiser (don't get me wrong, I'm grateful I HAVE insurance, but still this is ridiculous).
10:00am Urgent care opens
10:15am I arrive at Urgent Care and take a number.
My number is 40. They are on 10.
The number determines the order that you get to speak to the triage nurse, who determines who needs to be treated first and if there are any labs that can be done in the meanwhile.
11:20am My number is called to speak to the triage nurse (note: this is 65 minutes after I arrived--thank goodness I wasn't puking).
11:22am Triage nurse sends me to the receptionist, where I have to make a $35 copay, since it's Urgent Care instead of my regular $15 copay when it's not. Argh.
11:55am Physician's Assistant calls me back, weighs me, blood pressure, and asks, to my surprise, if I'm still not smoking. I tell her I don't smoke at all, and she says, "Good for you sticking with it." I then tell her I've never smoked ANYTHING in my life (since inhaling fumes from the kitchen fire doesn't count in my book). She told me my health record indicates that I'm a "former" smoker. I again stress that I have NEVER smoked anything, EVER. She said she'd update my record, but I have to say it concerns me as to how that got there in the first place.
12:00pm Doctor visits me. Actually really liked her as she was very sympathetic and flat out said, "What medication will help you most?" (I'd explained that neither Tramadol, which gave me headaches, or Vicodin, which doesn't help me, don't work). I told her I didn't like the idea of asking for medication, but Percoset helped in the past to get me over the wall when I'm acute like this.
12:02pm Take prescription to pharmacy then go over to the lab for overdue bloodwork.
12:05pm Get bloodwork done
12:15pm Get prescription and leave.
Grand total of 2 hours, of which 100 minutes were spent waiting--the first 65 of which probably could have been avoided if they'd had an efficient triage nurse. (She was very nice, just VERY slow.)
Came home, took drugs, laid down. At 4:00 my husband woke me and asked if I was going to work on the house.
Went into panic mode. This means that instead of cleaning, I bulldozed junk into a couple of rooms we decided to close off.
House looked better than it has in ages (with the exception of the bulldoze pits) and we had a great time.
Friday, December 31, 2010
Thursday, December 30, 2010
House Progress, Back Digress
Got a lot of work done on the house, and in particular my daughter's room today. Unfortunately I'm afraid that getting the mattress and boxspring out of the storage space in the garage worked a number on my back as it got stiffer and stiffer through the day.
I caved and took Tramadol again.
It did nothing for my back.
It did something for my head. I got a headache. Ugh.
Then as I was running around the house cleaning and organizing, my husband finally said, "If you need me to do something for you, just ask."
I didn't because
1) He had things of his own to do and
2) Then I would be doing nothing and our party is tomorrow and you can't walk through the house or sit anywhere and I would go insane sitting still.
3) I couldn't figure out why he said that. So I asked.
His response? "Because I'm tired of listening to you moan and groan all over the place."
Oh.
I finally gave up and went to bed on the thought that I would go to yoga in the morning anyway. Besides, I was hoping I could sleep off my painkillers-that-didn't-work headache.
I caved and took Tramadol again.
It did nothing for my back.
It did something for my head. I got a headache. Ugh.
Then as I was running around the house cleaning and organizing, my husband finally said, "If you need me to do something for you, just ask."
I didn't because
1) He had things of his own to do and
2) Then I would be doing nothing and our party is tomorrow and you can't walk through the house or sit anywhere and I would go insane sitting still.
3) I couldn't figure out why he said that. So I asked.
His response? "Because I'm tired of listening to you moan and groan all over the place."
Oh.
I finally gave up and went to bed on the thought that I would go to yoga in the morning anyway. Besides, I was hoping I could sleep off my painkillers-that-didn't-work headache.
Wednesday, December 29, 2010
Bikram Yoga, Day 8
Getting up earlier is getting easier; my whole body is shifting schedule. Unfortunately that schedule doesn't work so well for the whole family in the evening, but hopefully I can adjust my daughter to going to bed earlier too because she needs to.
Today my little piece of progress at yoga was that during Eagle pose I was able to just barely get my fingers in between each other (I had been just grabbing my thumbs).
The rest of the day was spent painting my daughter's room. I had to have it done before my husband got home so that he could lay down the new floor so that we can move her stuff back in her room so that we can clean things up to be ready for the party that we're having for New Year's.
We're hosed.
Today my little piece of progress at yoga was that during Eagle pose I was able to just barely get my fingers in between each other (I had been just grabbing my thumbs).
The rest of the day was spent painting my daughter's room. I had to have it done before my husband got home so that he could lay down the new floor so that we can move her stuff back in her room so that we can clean things up to be ready for the party that we're having for New Year's.
We're hosed.
Monday, December 27, 2010
Bikram Yoga, Day 7
I can really feel the difference in my back between 1 day off and 2 days off between yoga sessions. I just can't put that much space in or I start feeling like I need pain medication again.
Even though we do the same routine every time, I still haven't memorized it yet. I can't get over though how much more quickly class goes than my first one. I'm just breathing and trying to make it through and all of a sudden we're in the last of the seated poses and I'm amazed we're almost done.
I am finally reaching around my foot in the seated head to knee pose. Well, at least with my outside hand. The inside hand doesn't quite go because both the abdominal excess and flexibility, but I'm closer now.
I have got to get pictures of these poses soon since I'm making progress.
Even though we do the same routine every time, I still haven't memorized it yet. I can't get over though how much more quickly class goes than my first one. I'm just breathing and trying to make it through and all of a sudden we're in the last of the seated poses and I'm amazed we're almost done.
I am finally reaching around my foot in the seated head to knee pose. Well, at least with my outside hand. The inside hand doesn't quite go because both the abdominal excess and flexibility, but I'm closer now.
I have got to get pictures of these poses soon since I'm making progress.
Saturday, December 25, 2010
DRIVEeatMERRYCHRISTMASpresentsDRIVEeatMERRYCHRISTMASpresentsDRIVEeatMERRYCHRISTMASpresentsDRIVEsleep
Our Christmas traditions have changed over the years, but since we've been married, they've been pretty much the same. After our very French Christmas eve, we sleep for a few hours, then drive for an hour to get to my Dad's, where we have Christmas breakfast, open stockings and presents, and then lounge for a bit before heading over to my aunt's (about a 40 minute drive), where we have an early (4:00) dinner, open presents, then drive another half hour to my uncle's (other side of the family), where we have birthday cake for my cousin, and do a cousin gift exchange, then drive home (another 45 minutes or so).
It makes for a very long day on very little sleep.
As indicated in my last post, we were able to get more sleep this year, but not for the happiest of reasons.
This year we had to pick up my grandmother as the family is attempting to drive her places rather than let her do the driving. That's a whole long story in itself and this isn't the best place to go into. Anyway, we were elected to pick her up.
We were actually (oddly) running on time when my cell phone rang in the car. My dad was calling--my grandmother was apparently very distressed that we weren't there yet (30 minutes before we were supposed to be there) AND that we weren't answering our phone (which was at home, so therefore not possible to answer if we were on our way).
We got there, right on time, and picked her up.
My grandmother is a pretty amazing woman. She worked for three different governors of the state of Oregon and is not someone you want to have on your bad side when it comes to pulling political power. She's 88, still active in her church, and physically active as well. Since I was a little girl though (and probably since before then), she's had a habit of "patting" people fairly forcefully.
When I was six, this resulted in me being pushed unaware and unable to lift my foot over a step on time, making me crash face first into the pavement. One of my teeth turned gray--fortunately it was a baby tooth. Her comment? "You need to be more careful, dear!"
And as I got older, I learned to set down any beverage glass I was holding because when Grandma came in for a hug, it would inevitably get toppled and I would be told, "Oh goodness, you need to be more careful, dear!"
As I greeted her at her front door, she leaned in for a hug and I literally had to grab the door frame to keep from falling down her front steps. Add that to being unable to take the pressure of much weight because of my back and I was left gasping for breath.
Some things never change.
We loaded up the car with Grandma and her presents and drove over to my dad's.
The rest of the day went fairly normally--visiting with relatives, little kids having more fun ripping open presents than playing with what was inside (and then asking, "Can I open more presents, please?....PLEASE....PLEEEEEASE!!")
We got home, unloaded my daughter's loot, and crashed.
It makes for a very long day on very little sleep.
As indicated in my last post, we were able to get more sleep this year, but not for the happiest of reasons.
This year we had to pick up my grandmother as the family is attempting to drive her places rather than let her do the driving. That's a whole long story in itself and this isn't the best place to go into. Anyway, we were elected to pick her up.
We were actually (oddly) running on time when my cell phone rang in the car. My dad was calling--my grandmother was apparently very distressed that we weren't there yet (30 minutes before we were supposed to be there) AND that we weren't answering our phone (which was at home, so therefore not possible to answer if we were on our way).
We got there, right on time, and picked her up.
My grandmother is a pretty amazing woman. She worked for three different governors of the state of Oregon and is not someone you want to have on your bad side when it comes to pulling political power. She's 88, still active in her church, and physically active as well. Since I was a little girl though (and probably since before then), she's had a habit of "patting" people fairly forcefully.
When I was six, this resulted in me being pushed unaware and unable to lift my foot over a step on time, making me crash face first into the pavement. One of my teeth turned gray--fortunately it was a baby tooth. Her comment? "You need to be more careful, dear!"
And as I got older, I learned to set down any beverage glass I was holding because when Grandma came in for a hug, it would inevitably get toppled and I would be told, "Oh goodness, you need to be more careful, dear!"
As I greeted her at her front door, she leaned in for a hug and I literally had to grab the door frame to keep from falling down her front steps. Add that to being unable to take the pressure of much weight because of my back and I was left gasping for breath.
Some things never change.
We loaded up the car with Grandma and her presents and drove over to my dad's.
The rest of the day went fairly normally--visiting with relatives, little kids having more fun ripping open presents than playing with what was inside (and then asking, "Can I open more presents, please?....PLEASE....PLEEEEEASE!!")
We got home, unloaded my daughter's loot, and crashed.
Friday, December 24, 2010
Bikram Yoga, Day 6
I had originally intended to go to the late class and try to finish pictures of my postures afterward, but with everything I had to do today, decided the early class would be better.
For once, I planned ahead. Too bad it was because I'd procrastinated so many other things that I was forced to.
I'm still feeling change in my yoga poses with every class. They may be miniscule, but for me it's nice to be able to feel progress--especially since I never seemed to be able to make progress in physical therapy (with Kaiser anyway).
The only downside is that now I'm debating whether I should take pictures in my poses as I can do them now, or whether I should go back to where I was. I'll figure it out on another day when I have more time.
I spent the day scrambling and wrapping presents. My husband went up to the mountain to play in the snow.
Our Christmas eve tradition as a couple is FABULOUS. His best friend is French, and I will refer to him as "G" for this. G and his wife put on the most incredible dinner. Usually it is just their family that is invited--and us. I totally married in to an awesome invitation on that one.
Usually the festivities start around 6:00, we socialize for a bit, and then around 7:00 we start in the Christmas-decorated living room with a Champagne toast, complete with some kind of delicacy (imported cheese, truffles--the mushroom kind, olives, and oysters have been a few). Then we meander into the dining room where we have multiple courses up to the main course of lamb. This is followed by (forgive my atrocious French spelling if I mangle it) True Normand, a few more courses, and then at midnight we return to the living room, and open presents. After presents we go back to the dining room, have the Bouche Noel (Yule log) dessert, and then a coffee course.
In all, about a 10 course meal.
Did I mention that nearly every course has a wine specially chosen to match it? Not that my husband or I drink, but on occasion we have sampled them. I, unfortunately, do not have a sophisticated enough palette to appreciate it and usually just refuse now, insisting that they not waste any on me and let someone who will enjoy it have it instead. G still tries, every year, saying, "You just don't like wine because you haven't found one you like yet."
The True Normand is a sorbet and apple brandy. This I happily partake of, even though I'm still teased because I once referred to it as the "stomach bomb."
In my defense, when I asked what it was the first year, it was explained to me that the combination of these specific ingredients has an effect on your digestion that essentially clears room in your stomach so you can keep eating, even though you were full moments before. I SWEAR that G said to me that first year (in his French accent), "Eez like a bome een your stomach." (It's like a bomb in your stomach.) Whether or not he said that, it's what I remember, so the next year, I asked if we were having the stomach bomb and no one knew what I was talking about.
Now they all know and tease me.
Anyway, this is our tradition for Christmas eve--usually we get home about 2:00am, sleep for a few hours, then leave the house by 8:00am to get to my dad's.
This year was different.
G's daughter, who is only 6, has been in the hospital for two weeks, much of it in intensive care. The doctors aren't completely sure what's wrong (and in the interests of their privacy, I won't go into the few details I do know), but she hasn't been able to keep her fever down for more than 48 hours so they won't release her yet.
We (my husband and I) first found out a few days after she was initially admitted. We were told that Christmas eve would be cancelled. The only (selfish) good thing out of this is that it would mean we could sleep before our Christmas day traditions (three parties to go to and about 120 miles of driving).
We found out that the hospital granted G's daughter a 7-hour leave for the Christmas eve celebrations, which they bumped to late afternoon instead of evening.
It was quieter and more subdued. G's daughter stayed in their bedroom on the bed, having stories read to her by her uncle, and we went in, one at a time, to say hello and let her open presents.
Poor kid was weak and in pain. She hurt too much to stay for the celebrations, so G's wife and brother-in-law took her back to the hospital after only a couple of hours.
We still had the rest of the party with G, his parents, and his wife's dad. My daughter and G's son (they're only 4 months apart) had fun playing together.
G came up to me at one point, frantic. "Do you know what the bows are?" Apparently he got a call from his wife at the hospital. I'd given their daughter a frame with her name in it, which had a whole bunch of hair bows hanging from it. She liked it and was demanding it be brought to her at the hospital.
I'd initially felt a little bad because this year our budget forced us to do a number of homemade gifts, but at least one of them was a hit. Probably the most important one, considering how much not fun Christmas in the hospital is for a kid.
We ONLY had a six-course meal this year (no True Normand), and as I was once again refusing the wine on grounds that it shouldn't be wasted, G responded, "Education is never wasted," I decided I would try a little bit.
And I finally found one that I LIKED. REALLY liked. I probably won't ever have it again since it was a 1989 Something or other imported from France, but I enjoyed what little bit I did have. I would probably have consumed quite a bit more, but since I was driving home (my husband doesn't do well with a standard transmission), and it's been so long since I've had alcohol, and I screwed up the tags on my car, I didn't want to get pulled over and then face DUI charges. I'm also so overly paranoid that in all I probably had half a glass of wine and stopped drinking it about three hours before leaving.
We finally left at about 10:30, much earlier than normal. Dad had scheduled his Christmas breakfast to a brunch for us, but it was still nice to know we'd actually get some sleep this year.
For once, I planned ahead. Too bad it was because I'd procrastinated so many other things that I was forced to.
I'm still feeling change in my yoga poses with every class. They may be miniscule, but for me it's nice to be able to feel progress--especially since I never seemed to be able to make progress in physical therapy (with Kaiser anyway).
The only downside is that now I'm debating whether I should take pictures in my poses as I can do them now, or whether I should go back to where I was. I'll figure it out on another day when I have more time.
I spent the day scrambling and wrapping presents. My husband went up to the mountain to play in the snow.
Our Christmas eve tradition as a couple is FABULOUS. His best friend is French, and I will refer to him as "G" for this. G and his wife put on the most incredible dinner. Usually it is just their family that is invited--and us. I totally married in to an awesome invitation on that one.
Usually the festivities start around 6:00, we socialize for a bit, and then around 7:00 we start in the Christmas-decorated living room with a Champagne toast, complete with some kind of delicacy (imported cheese, truffles--the mushroom kind, olives, and oysters have been a few). Then we meander into the dining room where we have multiple courses up to the main course of lamb. This is followed by (forgive my atrocious French spelling if I mangle it) True Normand, a few more courses, and then at midnight we return to the living room, and open presents. After presents we go back to the dining room, have the Bouche Noel (Yule log) dessert, and then a coffee course.
In all, about a 10 course meal.
Did I mention that nearly every course has a wine specially chosen to match it? Not that my husband or I drink, but on occasion we have sampled them. I, unfortunately, do not have a sophisticated enough palette to appreciate it and usually just refuse now, insisting that they not waste any on me and let someone who will enjoy it have it instead. G still tries, every year, saying, "You just don't like wine because you haven't found one you like yet."
The True Normand is a sorbet and apple brandy. This I happily partake of, even though I'm still teased because I once referred to it as the "stomach bomb."
In my defense, when I asked what it was the first year, it was explained to me that the combination of these specific ingredients has an effect on your digestion that essentially clears room in your stomach so you can keep eating, even though you were full moments before. I SWEAR that G said to me that first year (in his French accent), "Eez like a bome een your stomach." (It's like a bomb in your stomach.) Whether or not he said that, it's what I remember, so the next year, I asked if we were having the stomach bomb and no one knew what I was talking about.
Now they all know and tease me.
Anyway, this is our tradition for Christmas eve--usually we get home about 2:00am, sleep for a few hours, then leave the house by 8:00am to get to my dad's.
This year was different.
G's daughter, who is only 6, has been in the hospital for two weeks, much of it in intensive care. The doctors aren't completely sure what's wrong (and in the interests of their privacy, I won't go into the few details I do know), but she hasn't been able to keep her fever down for more than 48 hours so they won't release her yet.
We (my husband and I) first found out a few days after she was initially admitted. We were told that Christmas eve would be cancelled. The only (selfish) good thing out of this is that it would mean we could sleep before our Christmas day traditions (three parties to go to and about 120 miles of driving).
We found out that the hospital granted G's daughter a 7-hour leave for the Christmas eve celebrations, which they bumped to late afternoon instead of evening.
It was quieter and more subdued. G's daughter stayed in their bedroom on the bed, having stories read to her by her uncle, and we went in, one at a time, to say hello and let her open presents.
Poor kid was weak and in pain. She hurt too much to stay for the celebrations, so G's wife and brother-in-law took her back to the hospital after only a couple of hours.
We still had the rest of the party with G, his parents, and his wife's dad. My daughter and G's son (they're only 4 months apart) had fun playing together.
G came up to me at one point, frantic. "Do you know what the bows are?" Apparently he got a call from his wife at the hospital. I'd given their daughter a frame with her name in it, which had a whole bunch of hair bows hanging from it. She liked it and was demanding it be brought to her at the hospital.
I'd initially felt a little bad because this year our budget forced us to do a number of homemade gifts, but at least one of them was a hit. Probably the most important one, considering how much not fun Christmas in the hospital is for a kid.
We ONLY had a six-course meal this year (no True Normand), and as I was once again refusing the wine on grounds that it shouldn't be wasted, G responded, "Education is never wasted," I decided I would try a little bit.
And I finally found one that I LIKED. REALLY liked. I probably won't ever have it again since it was a 1989 Something or other imported from France, but I enjoyed what little bit I did have. I would probably have consumed quite a bit more, but since I was driving home (my husband doesn't do well with a standard transmission), and it's been so long since I've had alcohol, and I screwed up the tags on my car, I didn't want to get pulled over and then face DUI charges. I'm also so overly paranoid that in all I probably had half a glass of wine and stopped drinking it about three hours before leaving.
We finally left at about 10:30, much earlier than normal. Dad had scheduled his Christmas breakfast to a brunch for us, but it was still nice to know we'd actually get some sleep this year.
Wednesday, December 22, 2010
Bikram Yoga, Day 5
Today again felt like I made more progress in yoga, which is a good thing, but also, since I want to take "beginning" pictures, not as great because I'm already further than I was when I started.
The instructor agreed to do the photos after class, but it took so long for the studio to empty and the front desk replacement was late, so we only got a few of the poses done.
Hopefully I will be able to get to it on Friday, although I'm not sure if that's realistic since it will be Christmas eve.
The instructor agreed to do the photos after class, but it took so long for the studio to empty and the front desk replacement was late, so we only got a few of the poses done.
Hopefully I will be able to get to it on Friday, although I'm not sure if that's realistic since it will be Christmas eve.
Monday, December 20, 2010
Bikram Yoga, Day 4
Thankful that yesterday was over, I went to yoga again this morning.
GOOD NEWS! in the "balancing stick" pose (I think that's what it's called), I was able to actually lift my back leg off of the floor for the first time.
Technically, balancing stick is a one-legged stand, with the rest of the body forming a horizontal "T" position. MY balancing stick so far has been more like an upside-down lowercase "y" position because I haven't been able to lift my back leg off of the floor. Not because of weakness or strength, but because it turns on the hot burning knife twisting and poking into my sacrum feeling.
So while lifting my back leg off of the floor by an inch might not seem like much, it's one of those huge milestone progress items for me because it's something I haven't been able to do for SIX YEARS.
What's even cooler is that I did it without pain medication, and after only four days of yoga.
Afterward, I talked to the instructor. I finally came up with how I want to track my progress. I'm hoping to take pictures of myself in each pose, and soon. I want it to be as close a reflection to my "starting" point as possible. Then retake photos in 3-6 months and repeat as I progress. He said he would be happy to help and we could do it after class sometime.
I came home from yoga, ran around wrapping the baby shower present, getting showered and changed, and trying to get everything together. I ended up not having time to get to DEQ and went straight to the baby shower.
It was fun seeing my cousin all pregnant and glowing. She looked fantastic and I have to admit I was jealous because she totally looks better pregnant than I do right now.
Not a very positive self-image on my part, but that's why I'm working on changing things.
My daughter had a blast staying at Grandpa's house with her cousins and didn't want to leave. My sister offered to take her another night, which I might just have to take her up on.
GOOD NEWS! in the "balancing stick" pose (I think that's what it's called), I was able to actually lift my back leg off of the floor for the first time.
Technically, balancing stick is a one-legged stand, with the rest of the body forming a horizontal "T" position. MY balancing stick so far has been more like an upside-down lowercase "y" position because I haven't been able to lift my back leg off of the floor. Not because of weakness or strength, but because it turns on the hot burning knife twisting and poking into my sacrum feeling.
So while lifting my back leg off of the floor by an inch might not seem like much, it's one of those huge milestone progress items for me because it's something I haven't been able to do for SIX YEARS.
What's even cooler is that I did it without pain medication, and after only four days of yoga.
Afterward, I talked to the instructor. I finally came up with how I want to track my progress. I'm hoping to take pictures of myself in each pose, and soon. I want it to be as close a reflection to my "starting" point as possible. Then retake photos in 3-6 months and repeat as I progress. He said he would be happy to help and we could do it after class sometime.
I came home from yoga, ran around wrapping the baby shower present, getting showered and changed, and trying to get everything together. I ended up not having time to get to DEQ and went straight to the baby shower.
It was fun seeing my cousin all pregnant and glowing. She looked fantastic and I have to admit I was jealous because she totally looks better pregnant than I do right now.
Not a very positive self-image on my part, but that's why I'm working on changing things.
My daughter had a blast staying at Grandpa's house with her cousins and didn't want to leave. My sister offered to take her another night, which I might just have to take her up on.
Sunday, December 19, 2010
A Very Long Day of Nothing
Thinking that my sister was coming back sometime in the morning to help out with the house, I stayed home while my husband went up to the mountain with my daughter and our friends.
I did a little cleaning, a little sewing, and alternated between the two through the day.
Midafternoon I started getting annoyed.
When my sister called, I found out she wasn't planning on coming back until tomorrow (Monday). Apparently somewhere we had a little tiny (actually huge) miscommunication.
This meant that 1) I was trapped at home without a car all day long and 2) I could have gone and spent the day with my family in the snow instead.
Completely irritated (and not yet calm enough to look at the situation rationally) when my husband got home, I went into troll mode and about bit his head off.
He, of course, had no idea what was wrong with me.
My dad ended up driving up to get me because I had to have my car to get places in the morning, included DEQ.
I did leave my daughter at my Dad's house though. Tonight will be her very first night without one of her parents. Since we cosleep (she sleeps in the bed with us), this is actually a very big deal. I did my best to prepare her for it and I'm sure she'll be fine, but I'm curious to see how it goes.
My sister thought it would be good for my husband and I to have some time as a couple and go do something, but when I got home, I fell asleep instead.
I did a little cleaning, a little sewing, and alternated between the two through the day.
Midafternoon I started getting annoyed.
When my sister called, I found out she wasn't planning on coming back until tomorrow (Monday). Apparently somewhere we had a little tiny (actually huge) miscommunication.
This meant that 1) I was trapped at home without a car all day long and 2) I could have gone and spent the day with my family in the snow instead.
Completely irritated (and not yet calm enough to look at the situation rationally) when my husband got home, I went into troll mode and about bit his head off.
He, of course, had no idea what was wrong with me.
My dad ended up driving up to get me because I had to have my car to get places in the morning, included DEQ.
I did leave my daughter at my Dad's house though. Tonight will be her very first night without one of her parents. Since we cosleep (she sleeps in the bed with us), this is actually a very big deal. I did my best to prepare her for it and I'm sure she'll be fine, but I'm curious to see how it goes.
My sister thought it would be good for my husband and I to have some time as a couple and go do something, but when I got home, I fell asleep instead.
Saturday, December 18, 2010
Finally, a Visit to Dr. Amy
So because I didn't schedule enough in advance, I didn't get to go to the chiropractor this week on Tuesday like normal and had to wait until today. Thank goodness for the yoga, because I've now been without any kind of painkiller for 5 days. I don't think I would have made it without the yoga.
Dr. Amy approved and encouraged me to continue with the yoga. I struggled so much though to sit up after my prone treatments that she asked if I had an exercise ball I could bring to rest on next time to see if I could decrease the amount of discomfort when I get up.
Know what else? My last headache was Monday--the last day I took the Tramadol. Tuesday was rough pain wise, but my head felt like I was coming out of a fog. I've known I wanted to be done with the stuff, but wow, what a difference.
The anti-inflammatory didn't do anything for me though. I'm so tired of taking those with no benefit I can feel that I quit taking it too.
I got home and was trying to get things to a point where my sister and I could work on cleaning and organizing, but she had promised a friend she would visit, so I let her take my car, and she was planning on spending the night with my dad, so I told her as long as she came back tomorrow (Sunday), it would be fine.
I was hoping to try to get to the 4:00 yoga class, but my husband was out with his car doing Christmas shopping (for me, so I wasn't invited), so I was carless.
I decided I'd better hurry up and start sewing Christmas presents that were going to be homemade.
And put off cleaning yet another day.
Dr. Amy approved and encouraged me to continue with the yoga. I struggled so much though to sit up after my prone treatments that she asked if I had an exercise ball I could bring to rest on next time to see if I could decrease the amount of discomfort when I get up.
Know what else? My last headache was Monday--the last day I took the Tramadol. Tuesday was rough pain wise, but my head felt like I was coming out of a fog. I've known I wanted to be done with the stuff, but wow, what a difference.
The anti-inflammatory didn't do anything for me though. I'm so tired of taking those with no benefit I can feel that I quit taking it too.
I got home and was trying to get things to a point where my sister and I could work on cleaning and organizing, but she had promised a friend she would visit, so I let her take my car, and she was planning on spending the night with my dad, so I told her as long as she came back tomorrow (Sunday), it would be fine.
I was hoping to try to get to the 4:00 yoga class, but my husband was out with his car doing Christmas shopping (for me, so I wasn't invited), so I was carless.
I decided I'd better hurry up and start sewing Christmas presents that were going to be homemade.
And put off cleaning yet another day.
Friday, December 17, 2010
Bikram Yoga, Day 3
I'm still not terribly enjoying getting up this early. I would so much rather stay up until 2 or 3 in the morning and roll out of bed at 10:00am than force myself to try to go to sleep early (which doesn't usually work) and then struggle to get going in the morning.
Oddly, I'm waking up about a half hour before my alarm goes off. I think if I just got up and stayed up I'd be fine, but when I realize I have another half hour to sleep and then try and utilize it, that's when I can't get up again.
My instructor showed me some modifications of the poses for me to use. Some of them are frustrating--like one where the end pose is bent over a straight leg--I can do that, just not wrap my fingers around my toes. The modification, which is bending my knee all the way up to my chest, I still can't completely wrap my fingers (again the excess stomach baggage blocking me from compressing completely) AND I'm not stretching.
It's interesting though, coming from a coaching background and having to just take instructions and not argue.
My job is just to hang in there and do what I can. I'm already noticing changes, which is good, but as with everything else I'm working on, the end goal is a LONG ways away yet.
Today my sister and her two kids arrived. The original plan was that she would come and help me organize/clean my house, but right after she arrived I had to leave to go give a client a massage, then take my Level 9 judging test (I've failed it twice and haven't studied much; my hopes aren't high for this time around), then go swimming with everyone.
I packed all the swimming stuff with me, knowing my husband would be late and I was likely to arrive first and possibly even be done with my own swimming workout before he even got there.
That's not quite what happened.
1) I arrived a little late for my judging test, holding up the process (they were nice and waited for me)
2) The other girl and I talked for a bit and asked questions before we even started the test.
3) The test took longer than I remembered.
4) I was so late for swimming that we didn't even go. We would have had only 20 minutes left, and at $6.50 a person, that seemed a bit expensive.
So we decided to go to my husband's former workplace, which has a hot tub.
It closed--and I'm not exaggerating--two minutes before we got there.
I decided to do another grocery run while my husband stayed and played with our daughter and our friend's family.
So much for family swim night.
I got home after 10:00pm.
So much for cleaning/organizing the house.
Oddly, I'm waking up about a half hour before my alarm goes off. I think if I just got up and stayed up I'd be fine, but when I realize I have another half hour to sleep and then try and utilize it, that's when I can't get up again.
My instructor showed me some modifications of the poses for me to use. Some of them are frustrating--like one where the end pose is bent over a straight leg--I can do that, just not wrap my fingers around my toes. The modification, which is bending my knee all the way up to my chest, I still can't completely wrap my fingers (again the excess stomach baggage blocking me from compressing completely) AND I'm not stretching.
It's interesting though, coming from a coaching background and having to just take instructions and not argue.
My job is just to hang in there and do what I can. I'm already noticing changes, which is good, but as with everything else I'm working on, the end goal is a LONG ways away yet.
Today my sister and her two kids arrived. The original plan was that she would come and help me organize/clean my house, but right after she arrived I had to leave to go give a client a massage, then take my Level 9 judging test (I've failed it twice and haven't studied much; my hopes aren't high for this time around), then go swimming with everyone.
I packed all the swimming stuff with me, knowing my husband would be late and I was likely to arrive first and possibly even be done with my own swimming workout before he even got there.
That's not quite what happened.
1) I arrived a little late for my judging test, holding up the process (they were nice and waited for me)
2) The other girl and I talked for a bit and asked questions before we even started the test.
3) The test took longer than I remembered.
4) I was so late for swimming that we didn't even go. We would have had only 20 minutes left, and at $6.50 a person, that seemed a bit expensive.
So we decided to go to my husband's former workplace, which has a hot tub.
It closed--and I'm not exaggerating--two minutes before we got there.
I decided to do another grocery run while my husband stayed and played with our daughter and our friend's family.
So much for family swim night.
I got home after 10:00pm.
So much for cleaning/organizing the house.
Wednesday, December 15, 2010
Bikram Yoga, Day 2
In comparison to my entire one other day of Bikram Yoga, today was easier and felt a little bit shorter. It still seems like the longest hour and a half EVER, but not like Monday's, which felt like 3 days long.
We had a different instructor today. He seems very good (like Monday's instructor). He spent much less time helping out the newbies as compared to the guy on Monday, but was still kind and patient.
It was really nice knowing (sort of) what to expect this time though.
Warning: oversharing ahead. I just wish that I could make it through a class without farting. I don't know what it is about this; maybe it's some of the poses and the way they push on my abdomen, but I hate that I've had at least one sneaker toot escape my control each class.
At least I'm not the only one, though. I heard a couple of others today and was so relieved it's not just me that I wanted to actually thank them.
The biggest problem was that coming home, there was a SEVERE traffic jam. I took some side roads, which helped until I got stuck behind a bunch of other people with the same idea. I didn't get back home until 9:10--which meant my husband had to call in to his 9:00am work meeting. Oops.
I was pleased though that I was able to feel that some of the poses were not as difficult as the first time. I'm trying to figure out a way that I can track my progress, but I'm not sure how I'll do that yet.
We had a different instructor today. He seems very good (like Monday's instructor). He spent much less time helping out the newbies as compared to the guy on Monday, but was still kind and patient.
It was really nice knowing (sort of) what to expect this time though.
Warning: oversharing ahead. I just wish that I could make it through a class without farting. I don't know what it is about this; maybe it's some of the poses and the way they push on my abdomen, but I hate that I've had at least one sneaker toot escape my control each class.
At least I'm not the only one, though. I heard a couple of others today and was so relieved it's not just me that I wanted to actually thank them.
The biggest problem was that coming home, there was a SEVERE traffic jam. I took some side roads, which helped until I got stuck behind a bunch of other people with the same idea. I didn't get back home until 9:10--which meant my husband had to call in to his 9:00am work meeting. Oops.
I was pleased though that I was able to feel that some of the poses were not as difficult as the first time. I'm trying to figure out a way that I can track my progress, but I'm not sure how I'll do that yet.
Monday, December 13, 2010
Bikram Yoga, Day 1
My friend from massage school is visiting her family for the holidays and called me to see if I wanted to try out Bikram Yoga for a month. There's an introductory special for unlimited classes for a month for only $29.00 at this place she found. It's a fantastic deal, so I told her I would. That was about a month ago. Today was our first day.
Now I knew that one of the critical things that separates Bikram Yoga from other types is that it is done in a room that is 105 degrees F. Considering my relationship with heat over the past few months, this might not be a great idea, but I figured I could premedicate myself and hope it would work.
For some reason, I couldn't sleep at all last night. The last time I looked at the clock, it was 4:15, so when it woke me up at 5:00am, I was less than excited to roll out of bed. However, since the web site said that 95% of the effort of your workout is getting there, I lurched myself across the house into the kitchen, had a small snack and my back medication, and went to go get my clothes out of the dryer to get dressed.
Small problem. My clothes weren't in the dryer. They were still in the washing machine. Fortunately I was up early enough I had time to get them in the dryer and get it running. I got the rest of my things together (which wasn't much because I'd put what I could in the car the night before so I wouldn't forget anything) and waited for the dryer.
When my clothes were dry (enough), I got dressed and ran out the door. It was 5:40, the yoga place is 30 minutes away, and I was supposed to be there at 6:00. Somehow I made it.
Also somehow, I didn't get stopped for speeding. *whew*
My friend met me there, we went inside, paid, and went into the toasty room. It wasn't that bad, although we were just sitting there talking and already I was wanting water.
The guy who ran it was really nice and had a soothing yet demanding voice, instructing us vocally as he walked around the room, offering corrections to individuals (I was impressed that he knew nearly everyone by name) and guiding us through the techniques without demonstrating a single one.
I did okay. There were a few poses that I had problems moving through because I can't bend that way with my back--if I moved into them in my own way, I could get there (or to a modified form), but I couldn't go through the path that was instructed. There were other poses that I was flexible enough to do, but I couldn't hold them. Not because I'm not flexible enough, but because there's still enough (meaning a lot) of excess stomach on me and when I pull my thighs to my chest, it compresses my excess stomach into my abdomen, which pushes my regular abdominal contents towards my lungs, which pushes my lungs I don't know where, but it ends up meaning I can't inhale because there's no room left inside of my ribs for my lungs to expand.
Ugh, sometimes it is so hard to exercise when you're not in shape to exercise.
We were probably about 1/2 to 2/3 of the way through before I was able to let my thoughts drift from what I was doing to thinking about whether or not I was enjoying myself. The weird thing was, when I thought about it, I couldn't decide.
Since I'm competitive, I decided that the only way I would "enjoy" it would be to challenge myself to get to a certain point; otherwise I wouldn't have motivation to keep it up. Silly, perhaps, but it's the way my mind works, and whatever it takes to get me going is what I'm going to have to do to continue to make change.
From there, I started to think about what I'd write in here. And I thought, "December 13: The day I started Bikram Yoga."
Hmmm. What's familiar about December 13?
And then I remembered.
And I burst into tears.
Four years ago today, my mother died. The tears continued to flow and I ended up not concentrating at all on what I was doing, but rather on not sobbing. It wasn't working; the more I thought about it, the more sad I became.
I seriously considered bolting out of the room and not returning.
Thank goodness I was sweating. The tears blended in just fine with the sweat already running down my (purple overheated) face. I blotted myself with a towel as we were instructed to roll over into a new position and ended up looking at a purple lotus flower painted on the wall. I spent quite a bit of time staring at it and the colors on it, trying to think about that rather than anything else so I could stop crying.
It mostly worked.
I managed to finish the class and the instructor asked everyone to applaud for me for making it through my first class. It made me feel nice to have a room full of people cheering for me (and was also a good distraction from my sadness).
I went in to the women's room to change and someone else who had been in the class told me how well I did--that just making it through without leaving the room was a success, and to keep it up. That too, made me feel better.
I met my friend out front and ran out to my car to get my phone--I was expecting a call from my doctor regarding my headaches (because Kaiser would rather make me take a phone appointment or send me to urgent care than let me see my doctor, long story). As I was about to head back in, another woman from class came up to me and was very positive and encouraging and offered me advice about breathing.
She too said I did a good job managing to stay in the room--that many people can't their first time. I talked with her for a bit, then my friend, then couldn't figure out why, since I even got a reminder phone call about my phone doctor appointment, I hadn't received a call from my doctor (it was now 25 minutes late).
Turns out he had called only 15 minutes late but my phone didn't decide to let me know until after the voice mail had been there for 10 minutes.
Finally I got to speak to him and (as I had thought), his thoughts are that I have what are called analgesic rebound headaches. Essentially, what I was taking for the headaches was the cause, so every time it would wear off the headache would come back. He told me to stay off of the back pain medication for a week and he'd give me something else.
He prescribed an anti-inflammatory.
I'm sorry, but I've used anti-inflammatories off and on for the last six years for my back and they don't do ANYTHING. Okay, so I can't see what they might be doing to help me at a microscopic level, but even when taking them regularly, I felt no difference, and since I've read that they can be harmful to your heart after long periods of time, I'm not excited about taking any more.
The migraine creeping in from my early-morning dosage was horrendous by time I got home and it was all I could do to crash in bed. I felt like the worst mother ever, getting up only to feed, change a movie, or (sorry for oversharing) wipe my daughter until the headache finally eased off around 4:00.
I drank what water I could, although the headache was bad enough that I was worried the water wouldn't stay where it belonged.
I'll have to see how Wednesday yoga goes without the back pain meds. I'm glad to be rid of them, but also scared that I'm going to end up in my pain cycle that landed me at this weight in the first place.
One day at a time.
Now I knew that one of the critical things that separates Bikram Yoga from other types is that it is done in a room that is 105 degrees F. Considering my relationship with heat over the past few months, this might not be a great idea, but I figured I could premedicate myself and hope it would work.
For some reason, I couldn't sleep at all last night. The last time I looked at the clock, it was 4:15, so when it woke me up at 5:00am, I was less than excited to roll out of bed. However, since the web site said that 95% of the effort of your workout is getting there, I lurched myself across the house into the kitchen, had a small snack and my back medication, and went to go get my clothes out of the dryer to get dressed.
Small problem. My clothes weren't in the dryer. They were still in the washing machine. Fortunately I was up early enough I had time to get them in the dryer and get it running. I got the rest of my things together (which wasn't much because I'd put what I could in the car the night before so I wouldn't forget anything) and waited for the dryer.
When my clothes were dry (enough), I got dressed and ran out the door. It was 5:40, the yoga place is 30 minutes away, and I was supposed to be there at 6:00. Somehow I made it.
Also somehow, I didn't get stopped for speeding. *whew*
My friend met me there, we went inside, paid, and went into the toasty room. It wasn't that bad, although we were just sitting there talking and already I was wanting water.
The guy who ran it was really nice and had a soothing yet demanding voice, instructing us vocally as he walked around the room, offering corrections to individuals (I was impressed that he knew nearly everyone by name) and guiding us through the techniques without demonstrating a single one.
I did okay. There were a few poses that I had problems moving through because I can't bend that way with my back--if I moved into them in my own way, I could get there (or to a modified form), but I couldn't go through the path that was instructed. There were other poses that I was flexible enough to do, but I couldn't hold them. Not because I'm not flexible enough, but because there's still enough (meaning a lot) of excess stomach on me and when I pull my thighs to my chest, it compresses my excess stomach into my abdomen, which pushes my regular abdominal contents towards my lungs, which pushes my lungs I don't know where, but it ends up meaning I can't inhale because there's no room left inside of my ribs for my lungs to expand.
Ugh, sometimes it is so hard to exercise when you're not in shape to exercise.
We were probably about 1/2 to 2/3 of the way through before I was able to let my thoughts drift from what I was doing to thinking about whether or not I was enjoying myself. The weird thing was, when I thought about it, I couldn't decide.
Since I'm competitive, I decided that the only way I would "enjoy" it would be to challenge myself to get to a certain point; otherwise I wouldn't have motivation to keep it up. Silly, perhaps, but it's the way my mind works, and whatever it takes to get me going is what I'm going to have to do to continue to make change.
From there, I started to think about what I'd write in here. And I thought, "December 13: The day I started Bikram Yoga."
Hmmm. What's familiar about December 13?
And then I remembered.
And I burst into tears.
Four years ago today, my mother died. The tears continued to flow and I ended up not concentrating at all on what I was doing, but rather on not sobbing. It wasn't working; the more I thought about it, the more sad I became.
I seriously considered bolting out of the room and not returning.
Thank goodness I was sweating. The tears blended in just fine with the sweat already running down my (purple overheated) face. I blotted myself with a towel as we were instructed to roll over into a new position and ended up looking at a purple lotus flower painted on the wall. I spent quite a bit of time staring at it and the colors on it, trying to think about that rather than anything else so I could stop crying.
It mostly worked.
I managed to finish the class and the instructor asked everyone to applaud for me for making it through my first class. It made me feel nice to have a room full of people cheering for me (and was also a good distraction from my sadness).
I went in to the women's room to change and someone else who had been in the class told me how well I did--that just making it through without leaving the room was a success, and to keep it up. That too, made me feel better.
I met my friend out front and ran out to my car to get my phone--I was expecting a call from my doctor regarding my headaches (because Kaiser would rather make me take a phone appointment or send me to urgent care than let me see my doctor, long story). As I was about to head back in, another woman from class came up to me and was very positive and encouraging and offered me advice about breathing.
She too said I did a good job managing to stay in the room--that many people can't their first time. I talked with her for a bit, then my friend, then couldn't figure out why, since I even got a reminder phone call about my phone doctor appointment, I hadn't received a call from my doctor (it was now 25 minutes late).
Turns out he had called only 15 minutes late but my phone didn't decide to let me know until after the voice mail had been there for 10 minutes.
Finally I got to speak to him and (as I had thought), his thoughts are that I have what are called analgesic rebound headaches. Essentially, what I was taking for the headaches was the cause, so every time it would wear off the headache would come back. He told me to stay off of the back pain medication for a week and he'd give me something else.
He prescribed an anti-inflammatory.
I'm sorry, but I've used anti-inflammatories off and on for the last six years for my back and they don't do ANYTHING. Okay, so I can't see what they might be doing to help me at a microscopic level, but even when taking them regularly, I felt no difference, and since I've read that they can be harmful to your heart after long periods of time, I'm not excited about taking any more.
The migraine creeping in from my early-morning dosage was horrendous by time I got home and it was all I could do to crash in bed. I felt like the worst mother ever, getting up only to feed, change a movie, or (sorry for oversharing) wipe my daughter until the headache finally eased off around 4:00.
I drank what water I could, although the headache was bad enough that I was worried the water wouldn't stay where it belonged.
I'll have to see how Wednesday yoga goes without the back pain meds. I'm glad to be rid of them, but also scared that I'm going to end up in my pain cycle that landed me at this weight in the first place.
One day at a time.
Saturday, December 11, 2010
Something New
Last night I was on the 24 Hour Fitness web site and looked at the class schedule. I keep meaning to go to classes but haven't been able to get a time that there's a class I want and I have someone to watch Ijja.
I figured a 7:45 am Saturday yoga class might actually work.
Getting up for it was another story.
I scooted in to the class and the room was already quite full. I picked up one of the "public" mats at the door--which are not so great for a variety of reasons. I placed myself near the back in a semi-open space (i.e., less crowded than the rest of the room) and was already self-conscious since the instructor was already talking as I was getting myself settled.
The class was really nice though. My mat proved to be challenging because it stretched--so as I was doing one of the lunging poses, my lunge kept going deeper. Perhaps that's why nearly everyone else had their own mat.
I've only taken one yoga class before--and it was probably at least 10 years ago, so this was really a new experience. About halfway through I remembered what I thought of the last class: it's amazing how staying nearly still can be so much work.
Most of the time I was just focused on trying to do what I was supposed to be doing and breathe. A few times I did glance around to see what others were doing and was surprised by a few things.
Holy cow, my hamstrings and calves have lost SO much flexibility since I got hurt. There was a time when in ANY given situation, I would be one of the most, if not the most, flexible person at an activity. That has exactly flipflopped for those muscles. There were a couple of stretches that it looked like I wasn't even trying to participate, yet my muscles were on the edge of revolt it stretched so much.
Alternately, my balance still seems to be decent. I don't practice balancing much any more, so was surprised that I still seem to be able to control my body to keep it from flipping over. There were a few poses that I was one of the few actually able to do them, let alone hold them. It made me feel a little better for being lousy at the flexibility earlier on.
Again, surprised by how much work it was to stay still. Sheesh!
After I was done with yoga, I decided I hadn't done enough to myself yet, so I went for a swim. Between being sick and having a hard time getting to do workouts lately, it was a bit more challenging than it had been.
Oh, and I learned that the pool I've been practicing my "half miles" in is actually only 25 yards, not 25 meters. Okay, so there's only 3 inches difference between a yard and a meter, but on one length of the pool alone, that's nearly 2 meters difference. On a half mile, it means a 3 pool length difference.
So all those "half mile" practice runs I swam to get ready for the triathlon?
Weren't.
While it may surprise those who have seen my house, I have a few OCD tendencies. With swimming, it is even numbers. So instead of swimming 35 lengths of the pool to get in my half mile, I did 36. Not only that, but I divided up my breaks mathematically as well: 4-8-12-8-4, stopping for about 30 seconds after each group of lengths.
That's not even going into the math I do in my head while swimming the lengths so I don't go crazy following the black line on the bottom of the pool.
Let me step back on this side of crazy now.
I came home from swimming and...felt the beginnings of a migraine. Rather than wait for it to blow up, I took some of my back pain medication. I did spend a few minutes debating this as I'm pretty sure my back meds are causing my migraines. However, since I'd already taken them before yoga (about 5 hours prior), I couldn't take my migraine medication (have to wait 12 hours after back meds before migraine meds), I had a Christmas party to go to in the evening, and the back meds do take care of the existing migraine (before causing the next one), I took them anyway and went to go to sleep.
Four hours later I woke up feeling no worse, but not much better. I got ready for the party, got my daughter ready for the party, and when my husband got home, we left, on Moroccan time, about 30 minutes late.
As we pulled into the street that the home was on we were about to visit, my husband informed me he wasn't feeling well--and he thought I had what I had a few days ago.
I turned around and drove him home rather than expose him to everyone at the party.
Then my daughter and I went back and enjoyed ourselves socializing for a couple of hours. The senior preschool teacher (meaning she teaches the 4-year-olds!) was there and was very complimentary, telling me how cute my daughter was and she was amazed that at 8:30 pm, my 3-year-old was the only child there not in the middle of a meltdown.
And she had been a little angel the whole evening.
Until we walked out the door.
On the way home, I drove her down one of the streets with lots of Christmas lights. I thought she would be thrilled, but apparently I had left the party at the exact moment her nice temperament had worn out and instead she really didn't seem to care.
At least my headache seemed to have disappeared by that time, and by time i got home the whole family was ready for bed.
Except the dog, who needed out 37 times.
I figured a 7:45 am Saturday yoga class might actually work.
Getting up for it was another story.
I scooted in to the class and the room was already quite full. I picked up one of the "public" mats at the door--which are not so great for a variety of reasons. I placed myself near the back in a semi-open space (i.e., less crowded than the rest of the room) and was already self-conscious since the instructor was already talking as I was getting myself settled.
The class was really nice though. My mat proved to be challenging because it stretched--so as I was doing one of the lunging poses, my lunge kept going deeper. Perhaps that's why nearly everyone else had their own mat.
I've only taken one yoga class before--and it was probably at least 10 years ago, so this was really a new experience. About halfway through I remembered what I thought of the last class: it's amazing how staying nearly still can be so much work.
Most of the time I was just focused on trying to do what I was supposed to be doing and breathe. A few times I did glance around to see what others were doing and was surprised by a few things.
Holy cow, my hamstrings and calves have lost SO much flexibility since I got hurt. There was a time when in ANY given situation, I would be one of the most, if not the most, flexible person at an activity. That has exactly flipflopped for those muscles. There were a couple of stretches that it looked like I wasn't even trying to participate, yet my muscles were on the edge of revolt it stretched so much.
Alternately, my balance still seems to be decent. I don't practice balancing much any more, so was surprised that I still seem to be able to control my body to keep it from flipping over. There were a few poses that I was one of the few actually able to do them, let alone hold them. It made me feel a little better for being lousy at the flexibility earlier on.
Again, surprised by how much work it was to stay still. Sheesh!
After I was done with yoga, I decided I hadn't done enough to myself yet, so I went for a swim. Between being sick and having a hard time getting to do workouts lately, it was a bit more challenging than it had been.
Oh, and I learned that the pool I've been practicing my "half miles" in is actually only 25 yards, not 25 meters. Okay, so there's only 3 inches difference between a yard and a meter, but on one length of the pool alone, that's nearly 2 meters difference. On a half mile, it means a 3 pool length difference.
So all those "half mile" practice runs I swam to get ready for the triathlon?
Weren't.
While it may surprise those who have seen my house, I have a few OCD tendencies. With swimming, it is even numbers. So instead of swimming 35 lengths of the pool to get in my half mile, I did 36. Not only that, but I divided up my breaks mathematically as well: 4-8-12-8-4, stopping for about 30 seconds after each group of lengths.
That's not even going into the math I do in my head while swimming the lengths so I don't go crazy following the black line on the bottom of the pool.
Let me step back on this side of crazy now.
I came home from swimming and...felt the beginnings of a migraine. Rather than wait for it to blow up, I took some of my back pain medication. I did spend a few minutes debating this as I'm pretty sure my back meds are causing my migraines. However, since I'd already taken them before yoga (about 5 hours prior), I couldn't take my migraine medication (have to wait 12 hours after back meds before migraine meds), I had a Christmas party to go to in the evening, and the back meds do take care of the existing migraine (before causing the next one), I took them anyway and went to go to sleep.
Four hours later I woke up feeling no worse, but not much better. I got ready for the party, got my daughter ready for the party, and when my husband got home, we left, on Moroccan time, about 30 minutes late.
As we pulled into the street that the home was on we were about to visit, my husband informed me he wasn't feeling well--and he thought I had what I had a few days ago.
I turned around and drove him home rather than expose him to everyone at the party.
Then my daughter and I went back and enjoyed ourselves socializing for a couple of hours. The senior preschool teacher (meaning she teaches the 4-year-olds!) was there and was very complimentary, telling me how cute my daughter was and she was amazed that at 8:30 pm, my 3-year-old was the only child there not in the middle of a meltdown.
And she had been a little angel the whole evening.
Until we walked out the door.
On the way home, I drove her down one of the streets with lots of Christmas lights. I thought she would be thrilled, but apparently I had left the party at the exact moment her nice temperament had worn out and instead she really didn't seem to care.
At least my headache seemed to have disappeared by that time, and by time i got home the whole family was ready for bed.
Except the dog, who needed out 37 times.
Thursday, December 9, 2010
From Bad to Worse
Apparently NyQuil does a really good job of masking symptoms because despite starting to feel a little better yesterday and being hopeful for today, ah...not so much.
Before I go any further, there is a too much information alert in progress. You've been warned.
I was NOT feeling well in the afternoon, decided that because of it, I wouldn't be taking my daughter to gymnastics, and then texted my husband to ask him to bring home some ginger ale.
I only ever ask him to bring home ginger ale when I'm sick or someone else is.
An hour later I texted him and told him he was too late.
An hour after that, he showed up with ginger ale. I sipped on it anyway, which turned out to be a bad plan.
Despite having conversations with him about this, he still asks what I consider the stupidest question in the world when I'm busy with reverse digestion. So while I was occupied making noises so horrific that had I not been the one making them, I would have joined in, he yells across the house.
"Are you okay?"
1) I was physically incapable of answering that question in that moment and
2) Obviously not.
I never answered as I was too busy feeling sorry for myself. Also, I was afraid to open my mouth.
Before I go any further, there is a too much information alert in progress. You've been warned.
I was NOT feeling well in the afternoon, decided that because of it, I wouldn't be taking my daughter to gymnastics, and then texted my husband to ask him to bring home some ginger ale.
I only ever ask him to bring home ginger ale when I'm sick or someone else is.
An hour later I texted him and told him he was too late.
An hour after that, he showed up with ginger ale. I sipped on it anyway, which turned out to be a bad plan.
Despite having conversations with him about this, he still asks what I consider the stupidest question in the world when I'm busy with reverse digestion. So while I was occupied making noises so horrific that had I not been the one making them, I would have joined in, he yells across the house.
"Are you okay?"
1) I was physically incapable of answering that question in that moment and
2) Obviously not.
I never answered as I was too busy feeling sorry for myself. Also, I was afraid to open my mouth.
Tuesday, December 7, 2010
Lurching Along
Our household has not been so healthy this past week or so. I spent much of last week trying to figure out why I had a constant migraine and why I couldn't get rid of it.
Then I realized I'd been eating chocolate in the form of hot cocoa. On the one hand, it's really nice when my body tells me something isn't good for it. It becomes simple to exclude that from my diet.
On the other hand, a little bit of the fun of winter dies when I can't enjoy hot cocoa.
Friday I left for the weekend to do some gymnastics judging. It was a long weekend of work (although LOADS of fun), and I was very grateful to get home in one piece--we passed a flipped over SUV on our drive home through some very icy roads.
I got home and my daughter was sick. She'd had a blast playing with Baba all weekend. She was actually sick enough that when I told her to cuddle up on the couch with a blanket, she obeyed.
Now I'm sick. Ugh. I sat on the bicycle trainer today for only about a half hour, with the fan pointed at me. I've GOT to get a softer seat. Or a harder rear end.
Then I realized I'd been eating chocolate in the form of hot cocoa. On the one hand, it's really nice when my body tells me something isn't good for it. It becomes simple to exclude that from my diet.
On the other hand, a little bit of the fun of winter dies when I can't enjoy hot cocoa.
Friday I left for the weekend to do some gymnastics judging. It was a long weekend of work (although LOADS of fun), and I was very grateful to get home in one piece--we passed a flipped over SUV on our drive home through some very icy roads.
I got home and my daughter was sick. She'd had a blast playing with Baba all weekend. She was actually sick enough that when I told her to cuddle up on the couch with a blanket, she obeyed.
Now I'm sick. Ugh. I sat on the bicycle trainer today for only about a half hour, with the fan pointed at me. I've GOT to get a softer seat. Or a harder rear end.
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