That is the rating this past weekend gets. And the only reason it's not a whole 10 is because we were babysitting rambunctious little kiddos, which entailed sleep deprivation (since when do little kids wake up at 5:30? I slept until 9 or 10 AM at that age). Of course, it was technically my fault for not going to bed until really late both nights....
But it was worth it.
One or two posts ago I was complaining that I never have Friday night dances to go to. Well, that was a slight understatement because once a year I do get my dance, and it is, in my experience, the best kind: a barn dance. Every time the M's have one I gush about it on my blog afterwards and usually end up listing it as one of the highlights of my summer. This year was no different, at least in the sense that it was just as fun. However, it was slightly different because we got Mik, Josiah and Jared to come along. The more the merrier? Yes.
I believe I danced just about every dance between 8 and 11:30, with the exception of one or two during which I got caught up in conversation with people. Aside from the fact that it meant I had to explain my future to well-meaning moms, it was quite enjoyable connecting with all the people I used to hang out with a lot. I find it mildly depressing that I can't get the three circles of my friendship life to intersect often, with one or two groups always getting left out if I focus on one. That, along with about 10 other factors, like dad's business, my hopeful writing career, and not having a GPA to worry about, caused me to...dun dun dun dun....get a Facebook.
Yes. After all the rants about it I've posted on this blog (I considered adding links to them in this post, but it would take too long to fish every single one of them out since I'm not a faithful tagger :P); after all the time I've spent gagging over it; after all the time I've thought it was so stupid and conformist and filled with narcissistic drama kings and queens; I got one.
I think that after spending over 5 years indignantly and rather arrogantly ignoring it, it's going to take a while to get used to. Also, from now on I might think of life as "before I got FB" and "after I got FB."
But then again, also maybe not. All I've done is do what millions of other people are doing, and have been doing.
Anyway, the barn dance made for a good evening. We drove the few miles home (it's like the only social function I don't live an hour away from), and proceeded to stay up late talking about anything and everything, since Mik and Josiah were spending the night (along with Jared and the bambinos). But it made me realize how much I miss quiet, deep, late-night conversations. My Jennifer and I used to have them frequently, but someone decided to get married and leave me all alone..... ;)
Saturday afternoon was the grand letdown because everyone left except for the babies. It really wouldn't have been bad, because the hammock was calling my name, but every time I'd be joined by 3 others, or get tipped out.
Sunday was church, of course, and the H's afterward, of course. Both pleasant and relaxing.
Monday morning, after a glorious 10 hours of sleep, Mom asked me if I wanted to try running. I decided yes, it was time. It was 3 and a half weeks since I had torn my medial collateral ligament, exactly 3 since I had had, by doctor's orders, to sit on the sidelines and watch everyone run the Bob Bridgman memorial race without me. So my knee wouldn't be able to cheat me out of the race entirely, the plan has been to run the course as soon as I felt able. So I drove over to MU with Mom and we mostly ran, partly walked (when I said I could feel my muscles atrophying as I laid on the couch I wasn't kidding) the 3.1 miles. Since the course was backwards this year, it was interesting having the mile of hill at the beginning instead of the end. But it was still hard! Thankfully my knee only gave me trouble for the downhill. I was somewhat surprised at that. Several times while dancing Friday I freaked out internally because I could feel the MCL pulling as I'd skip or swing, so I wasn't sure how well I'd run. But it looks like things are on the mend, and I should get back into a running routine. As long as I'm not lazy.
Speaking of actually doing stuff and not being lazy, Maryah finally persuaded me to join in on the recital she and her musically gifted friends have once or twice a year. I said okay, as long as it was a duet, she on the piano, me on my beloved double bass. That I really should play more often, get better at, and get lessons for. But haven't. Anyway, we tried doing Paradise first, because as everyone knows the bass part is just epic. However, not having the other instruments was proving difficult and, though cool, the bass only comes in a few times and is exceedingly repetitive. Not exactly recital material. So we switched to one of my other favorite songs to play with, Constellations by Jack Johnson. I had to mix it up a bit to make it work with the piano, but it ended up being quite successful, and I am very impressed with Maryah's piano playing flexibility and capability. That was yesterday evening. The recital was today. So was it last minute? Yes. But it was fun. I should do stuff with people more often.
Showing posts with label injury. Show all posts
Showing posts with label injury. Show all posts
Tuesday, June 19, 2012
Thursday, May 31, 2012
Mending
Lying around a lot, healing, does have some good consequences. Yes, it makes me think too much, often in the wrong direction, and yes, the result is a post like the one previous (remind me not to write blog posts at quarter of six in the morning after only a few hours of sleep).
Yet, it also helps a person be thankful. Specifically, I'm thankful for two legs that, until now, have worked quite well for the duration of my life. Not being able to run races, not being able to go on walks with the family, not being able to dance to loud music as I'm putting away dishes, is difficult. However, there are millions of people who can't do any of that for the entirety of their lives. I'm dealing with a bum leg for no more than a few weeks, and though I think I'm a ways from running, dancing will come here pretty soon, and the walking thing is remedied. Today I was helping a neighbor clean their house before they move, and my knee put up with 3 1/2 hours of use including window washing, top-shelf dusting, and cobweb getting (I was the only one there over 5'4", so I got the jobs to match). I was quite proud of it (my knee, not my height). Though, I'll be more proud of it when it starts letting me clutch again. I've tried thinking it through, but I really don't see how I can drive a standard car with just one leg. Especially when I'm still not an amazing standard driver as it is, with two legs.
So, in the midst of discontentment and the ensuing self-pity (detestable thing), I've been trying to not just be more thankful, but also more hopeful. Also, focusing less on yours truly, less on what people think of yours truly, and more about the sovereignty of God and the grace that is here now and that will continue to come in the future.
There is absolutely nothing to worry about. Nothing to fear. Everything is jammed up and jelly tight.
Wait, actually—there are two things to worry about. First, of the trio of cacti that sit on my desk, I do believe one of them is dying. It's getting the right amount of water, and it has enough room and is planted in good soil; however I don't think it gets enough sun. My only window faces west, so it catches just a few rays before the sun sets. So when this cactus finally kicks the bucket, I'll have to get a new one.
The other thing I'm concerned about is that my mood is entirely weather dependent. Though that's really nothing new, my realization of it has been strengthened thanks to the haphazard weather this week. In the course of a day, it'll be sunny for a few hours, then stormy, then sunny again, stormy again...and when it's sunny I'm happy, but when it's grey I'm mopey. So I go through rather drastic mood changes all in the span of one day—at least mentally, on the inside. If I let it show verbally/physically Mom would be after me.
Yet, it also helps a person be thankful. Specifically, I'm thankful for two legs that, until now, have worked quite well for the duration of my life. Not being able to run races, not being able to go on walks with the family, not being able to dance to loud music as I'm putting away dishes, is difficult. However, there are millions of people who can't do any of that for the entirety of their lives. I'm dealing with a bum leg for no more than a few weeks, and though I think I'm a ways from running, dancing will come here pretty soon, and the walking thing is remedied. Today I was helping a neighbor clean their house before they move, and my knee put up with 3 1/2 hours of use including window washing, top-shelf dusting, and cobweb getting (I was the only one there over 5'4", so I got the jobs to match). I was quite proud of it (my knee, not my height). Though, I'll be more proud of it when it starts letting me clutch again. I've tried thinking it through, but I really don't see how I can drive a standard car with just one leg. Especially when I'm still not an amazing standard driver as it is, with two legs.
So, in the midst of discontentment and the ensuing self-pity (detestable thing), I've been trying to not just be more thankful, but also more hopeful. Also, focusing less on yours truly, less on what people think of yours truly, and more about the sovereignty of God and the grace that is here now and that will continue to come in the future.
There is absolutely nothing to worry about. Nothing to fear. Everything is jammed up and jelly tight.
Wait, actually—there are two things to worry about. First, of the trio of cacti that sit on my desk, I do believe one of them is dying. It's getting the right amount of water, and it has enough room and is planted in good soil; however I don't think it gets enough sun. My only window faces west, so it catches just a few rays before the sun sets. So when this cactus finally kicks the bucket, I'll have to get a new one.
The other thing I'm concerned about is that my mood is entirely weather dependent. Though that's really nothing new, my realization of it has been strengthened thanks to the haphazard weather this week. In the course of a day, it'll be sunny for a few hours, then stormy, then sunny again, stormy again...and when it's sunny I'm happy, but when it's grey I'm mopey. So I go through rather drastic mood changes all in the span of one day—at least mentally, on the inside. If I let it show verbally/physically Mom would be after me.
Friday, May 25, 2012
Safety Third
Safety, protecting yourself, is an interesting thing. There are so many moments when you think you are safe, and really aren't, and then there are the times when you think your are flirting with danger and nothing happens. Then, there is also the instance where being too safe, not daring, results in missed opportunities to help someone, to maybe cause a brief spark of light as quick as a smile.
Twice in the past week I've engaged in "questionable activities" that didn't take place in the safety zone. Though first, go ahead and get that laugh out of your system because, I know, the soon-to-be-mentioned activities are quite normal and didn't require much...or any...courage on my part. It's actually entirely a case of living under the authority of overprotective parents (but really I can't complain because I'll do the exact same thing to my kids one day :). Anyhow, the first was when I decided to exit the trails and hop on the main road for the rest of my run. Big no-no, technically, because I'm generally not allowed on the road alone by myself, and definitely not without telling someone, ever since 75% of traffic is gas men.
Yet, it was the 25% that ending up concerning me. During the last stint, a minivan pulled to the side and stopped. The window went down, revealing that the driver and single passenger were both nice old ladies. They were lost. But they told me the town they were trying to get to, and I gave them directions to set them on the right track. Before getting on their way again, they politely apologized for interrupting my run. I said it was fine (and really meant it too. I love excuses to stop and catch my breath. Haha).
So I guess it ended up being good I was out there, otherwise they may have driven way off course, thus polluting the air with more CO2 emissions than necessary. This of course means that the destruction of our world by global warming will take place 25 hundredths of a second later than it would have had I not kept them from driving longer. That's right: the whole world will now get to live 25 hundredths of a second longer in a state of bliss.
Thanks may be sent in the form of Starbucks gift cards.
The second thing that happened was Sunday evening. On the way home from our friends' we stopped at the grocery store to stock up for a few days. Not wanting to walk around in the store in the midst of bunches of people, I informed the parental unit that I would wait on the dike that overlooks the river. Mom's lips pursed and she said, "Well, OK. But be careful." (she later informed me that she then spent the time in the store while she shopped praying for me. Gotta love moms, right?).
Anyhow, I meander up to the dike and am promptly driven back down by the swarms of mosquitoes. So I take a seat in the back corner of the outdoor eating area instead, and get some music playing on my ipod. After being there no more than a minute or two, I get some company. He has earbuds in too, and sits down at the opposite end, turning his chair away from me so he's looking towards the parking lot. Waiting for a ride, I presume.
I go back to staring into space, sucking on a lollipop from the bank that I found in my bag. But suddenly he fidgets and looks over his shoulder at me. He turns back around just as quickly, but the pivot causes his cell phone to drop out of his pocket and onto the cement, partially beneath his chair. He doesn't hear it for the music in his ears. I decide walking up to a strange man and bending around him to retrieve his phone when I'm alone may not be a good idea. Besides, "drop your cell phone for girl to pick up and then start a conversation with her" seems like one of those tricks in one of those books. Though I conclude that that is probably not so since he's listening to music and being as antisocial as I am; so I decide to wait.
Sure enough, within a few minutes a car pulls up and he jumps up and walks around the corner of the building. I shout after him, but he doesn't hear. So I jump up too, grab his cell from beneath the chair, and run around the corner just as he's stooping to get in the car. I get his attention and hand him the phone. He smiles, says thanks, hops in the car, and they drive away. Just like that. As normal as can be.
Sometimes the world is a less threatening place than we make it out to be.
But then of course it has to go and be threatening in other ways, in places you wouldn't think. Like your own home. Wednesday night we were moving furniture around. At one point we had the sofa tipped up on its end, and I was trying to slip between it and the wall to reposition myself. However, at that exact same moment, Isaac, who was to the front left of me, knelt down, legs across my path. I was already so near him, though, my feet tangled up in his legs and I tripped. My left leg twisted inward, there was a shockingly loud pop followed by a burst of pain in my knee, and I slammed into the floor.
I lay there for a bit, more in mental agony from the sickening sound of the pop. Within a few minutes, though, as the inflammation started, the pain in my knee became pretty bad, despite almost instant ice and ibuprofen. Then it swelled up.
Initially we thought it might be my ACL. Which I strongly hoped against because I'd treated people at physical therapy for ACL tears, and it's a long hard road for the injured. By morning, however, though my knee was still all swollen and felt like an elephant had stepped on it, I was able to isolate the main feeling of pain to the medial area. Even so, as I did research to figure out whether or not I should go to the doctors, it still seemed like I may have torn my meniscus, because of the twisting motion I went through and the pop I heard. Granted, I realized that wouldn't be as bad as an ACL tear, but it still required surgery. And it still meant I'd be laid up for the duration of the summer. At the very least, I knew I wasn't running the Bob Bridgeman Memorial Day race like tradition. The thought of that was very un-enthusing.
So I decided I definitely wanted to make the trip to the doctors. Before I went, Sanna asked what he would do. I said, "First he'll look at my knee. Then he'll gently touch it. Then he'll grab my leg with both hands and contort it in all these weird positions." And that's exactly what he did, with surprisingly minimal "ouching" on my part, and with the diagnoses of an incompletely torn medial collateral ligament. Treatment: ibuprofen for a week, rest, and no 5k unless I was pain free for 3 days before it. Since I'm still in pain today, no race. Bummer. I guess I'll be cheering on the side-lines this year.
However, I am exceedingly thankful it is not my ACL or meniscus. Either of those could have impacted my lifestyle for the next couple decades, so a slightly torn MCL, with downtime of a couple weeks at most, is an answer to prayer. Besides, if I am ever going to tear my ACL, I want to do it while participating in something epic, not tripping over my brother in the apparent safety of my own home!
Though I must say this whole experience has been rather interesting (note that interesting is not synonymous with fun) because, despite years of karate, running, and ultimate frisbee with Mr. P, I've never before been hurt to an extent that requires more than 24 hours of downtime.
So perhaps the moral of the story is it's good to climb over the guard rails on occasion 1) because you can help people and 2) because you can get hurt anywhere, and the same sovereign grace that lets you sit here reading this post is the same sovereign grace that steers you through an intersection or walks with you down those dark back alleys. Not saying we shouldn't be wise and prudent, but maybe Dave Stotts of "Drive Through History" got it right when he made his motto "safety third."
Twice in the past week I've engaged in "questionable activities" that didn't take place in the safety zone. Though first, go ahead and get that laugh out of your system because, I know, the soon-to-be-mentioned activities are quite normal and didn't require much...or any...courage on my part. It's actually entirely a case of living under the authority of overprotective parents (but really I can't complain because I'll do the exact same thing to my kids one day :). Anyhow, the first was when I decided to exit the trails and hop on the main road for the rest of my run. Big no-no, technically, because I'm generally not allowed on the road alone by myself, and definitely not without telling someone, ever since 75% of traffic is gas men.
Yet, it was the 25% that ending up concerning me. During the last stint, a minivan pulled to the side and stopped. The window went down, revealing that the driver and single passenger were both nice old ladies. They were lost. But they told me the town they were trying to get to, and I gave them directions to set them on the right track. Before getting on their way again, they politely apologized for interrupting my run. I said it was fine (and really meant it too. I love excuses to stop and catch my breath. Haha).
So I guess it ended up being good I was out there, otherwise they may have driven way off course, thus polluting the air with more CO2 emissions than necessary. This of course means that the destruction of our world by global warming will take place 25 hundredths of a second later than it would have had I not kept them from driving longer. That's right: the whole world will now get to live 25 hundredths of a second longer in a state of bliss.
Thanks may be sent in the form of Starbucks gift cards.
The second thing that happened was Sunday evening. On the way home from our friends' we stopped at the grocery store to stock up for a few days. Not wanting to walk around in the store in the midst of bunches of people, I informed the parental unit that I would wait on the dike that overlooks the river. Mom's lips pursed and she said, "Well, OK. But be careful." (she later informed me that she then spent the time in the store while she shopped praying for me. Gotta love moms, right?).
Anyhow, I meander up to the dike and am promptly driven back down by the swarms of mosquitoes. So I take a seat in the back corner of the outdoor eating area instead, and get some music playing on my ipod. After being there no more than a minute or two, I get some company. He has earbuds in too, and sits down at the opposite end, turning his chair away from me so he's looking towards the parking lot. Waiting for a ride, I presume.
I go back to staring into space, sucking on a lollipop from the bank that I found in my bag. But suddenly he fidgets and looks over his shoulder at me. He turns back around just as quickly, but the pivot causes his cell phone to drop out of his pocket and onto the cement, partially beneath his chair. He doesn't hear it for the music in his ears. I decide walking up to a strange man and bending around him to retrieve his phone when I'm alone may not be a good idea. Besides, "drop your cell phone for girl to pick up and then start a conversation with her" seems like one of those tricks in one of those books. Though I conclude that that is probably not so since he's listening to music and being as antisocial as I am; so I decide to wait.
Sure enough, within a few minutes a car pulls up and he jumps up and walks around the corner of the building. I shout after him, but he doesn't hear. So I jump up too, grab his cell from beneath the chair, and run around the corner just as he's stooping to get in the car. I get his attention and hand him the phone. He smiles, says thanks, hops in the car, and they drive away. Just like that. As normal as can be.
Sometimes the world is a less threatening place than we make it out to be.
But then of course it has to go and be threatening in other ways, in places you wouldn't think. Like your own home. Wednesday night we were moving furniture around. At one point we had the sofa tipped up on its end, and I was trying to slip between it and the wall to reposition myself. However, at that exact same moment, Isaac, who was to the front left of me, knelt down, legs across my path. I was already so near him, though, my feet tangled up in his legs and I tripped. My left leg twisted inward, there was a shockingly loud pop followed by a burst of pain in my knee, and I slammed into the floor.
I lay there for a bit, more in mental agony from the sickening sound of the pop. Within a few minutes, though, as the inflammation started, the pain in my knee became pretty bad, despite almost instant ice and ibuprofen. Then it swelled up.
Initially we thought it might be my ACL. Which I strongly hoped against because I'd treated people at physical therapy for ACL tears, and it's a long hard road for the injured. By morning, however, though my knee was still all swollen and felt like an elephant had stepped on it, I was able to isolate the main feeling of pain to the medial area. Even so, as I did research to figure out whether or not I should go to the doctors, it still seemed like I may have torn my meniscus, because of the twisting motion I went through and the pop I heard. Granted, I realized that wouldn't be as bad as an ACL tear, but it still required surgery. And it still meant I'd be laid up for the duration of the summer. At the very least, I knew I wasn't running the Bob Bridgeman Memorial Day race like tradition. The thought of that was very un-enthusing.
So I decided I definitely wanted to make the trip to the doctors. Before I went, Sanna asked what he would do. I said, "First he'll look at my knee. Then he'll gently touch it. Then he'll grab my leg with both hands and contort it in all these weird positions." And that's exactly what he did, with surprisingly minimal "ouching" on my part, and with the diagnoses of an incompletely torn medial collateral ligament. Treatment: ibuprofen for a week, rest, and no 5k unless I was pain free for 3 days before it. Since I'm still in pain today, no race. Bummer. I guess I'll be cheering on the side-lines this year.
However, I am exceedingly thankful it is not my ACL or meniscus. Either of those could have impacted my lifestyle for the next couple decades, so a slightly torn MCL, with downtime of a couple weeks at most, is an answer to prayer. Besides, if I am ever going to tear my ACL, I want to do it while participating in something epic, not tripping over my brother in the apparent safety of my own home!
Though I must say this whole experience has been rather interesting (note that interesting is not synonymous with fun) because, despite years of karate, running, and ultimate frisbee with Mr. P, I've never before been hurt to an extent that requires more than 24 hours of downtime.
So perhaps the moral of the story is it's good to climb over the guard rails on occasion 1) because you can help people and 2) because you can get hurt anywhere, and the same sovereign grace that lets you sit here reading this post is the same sovereign grace that steers you through an intersection or walks with you down those dark back alleys. Not saying we shouldn't be wise and prudent, but maybe Dave Stotts of "Drive Through History" got it right when he made his motto "safety third."
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