Planet Buchanan

It's All About Me

2011-09-05T14:50:00.000-07:00

I ran into a colleague I haven't seen in a long time at a conference I attended for my professional association a few weeks ago. She has dropped over 100 pounds. She had some questions for me about the industry we share and I had questions for her about her successful weight loss, so we sat down to catch up. She shared some concepts with me that I have heard from other people that have managed to drop a significant amount of weight and keep it off.

To be successful, you have to get to the point where you are doing it FOR YOU and not for anyone else.

At the core of it all - it really isn't about the food. To maintain success, you are committing to a healthier lifestyle.

I have a very busy life: a full-time job, a wonderfully supportive husband, 3 amazing children, 2 dogs, a great niece that I help babysit a few days a week, a handful of committees I volunteer on, a couple of pleasurable hobbies that offer a creative or educational outlet, and an array of close friends and family that help to round out my life. There are very few quiet moments. Very few opportunities for peaceful reflection. Rare chances to do absolutely nothing without feeling guilty.

Did I mention I am a caretaker? A rescuer? A co-dependent? I suffer from "savior syndrome." I'm a fixer. I have trouble setting boundaries and using the word "no."

It can be flattering to have people valuing your opinion or wanting your advice. It can feel good to be "needed" or relied upon. But there comes a time when what I really need is time for me. Uninterrupted, quiet, guilt-free time alone. Time to do what I want to do. All of this care taking gets overwhelming.

So back to my friend's advice - To be successful, you have to get to the point where you are doing it FOR YOU and not for anyone else.

I love walking. I love the solitude of walking laps around the junior high track by our house - just me and my headset. It's a bonus that it happens to be as good for my heart as it is for my soul. So after talking with my colleague at the conference a few weeks ago, I made a commitment to myself to start each and every day with a walk FOR ME. My time. It will send a positive message to me that I am worth it. That I matter. If I can set an alarm to get up for a conference call or to take a friend to the airport or accompany a kid to an appointment, why can't I set an alarm to get up and spend the first part of each day doing something I love and something that is good for me? I can, I will, and I have!

I have walked every morning for the past 15 days straight. My goal is 2 miles or 30 minutes minimum every day. So far I have logged just a little over 40 miles. Some days I push myself to make the minimum, other days I easily double it. But I'm sticking to it - and the message is getting through. I deserve this time to myself. It's not selfish. Taking care of myself can feel just as good as taking care of someone else. Thank you, Lois, for helping me see that.

GOOD READ: The Road of Lost Innocence

2010-04-17T13:07:00.000-07:00

I just finished reading a heart-breaking yet inspiring book called "The Road of Lost Innocence," by Somaly Mam. The author tells the story of her childhood as a sex slave in Cambodia with gut-wrenching candor. Somaly Mam has taken her horrible experiences and turned them into a driving passion to save others from a similar fate. She founded a Cambodia-based organization(AFESIP)a decade ago that exists to rescue victims of the sex trade industry from brothels. Her organization works with law enforcement to conduct raids, provides the victims with safe housing, teaches them to read and write, and trains them in a marketable trade like tailoring, agriculture and cosmetology. She has also opened a US-based nonprofit organization called the Somaly Mam Foundation with the same fundamental goals.

I am embarrassed to admit that prior to reading this book I was very naive about the human trafficking epidemic that is running rampant both at home and abroad. Human trafficking has become the second largest organized crime in the world, even surpassing drug trafficking. Somewhere between 2 and 4 million women and children will be sold into prostitution in the next 12 months - some of these victims as young as 5 years old. Cultural factors, poverty, illiteracy, and corruption all contribute to this growing industry.

I dare you to read this book and not be haunted by its message. Somaly Mam is a heroine in every aspect of the word. She survived horrific circumstances in her early life and yet she is truly making a difference in thousands of women's lives. There is no "woe is me" in her vocabulary! The world would be a better place if we had more of her kind around.

I urge you to purchase a copy of her book "The Road of Lost Innocence" and then tell all your friends. A portion of the proceeds are donated to the Somaly Mam Foundation and go to further her efforts on behalf of the victims of human trafficking. You might also visit www.somaly.org. There are opportunities to get involved, donate money, or purchase items that help to support the foundation.

Deciphering Medical Dictation

2010-04-06T15:44:00.000-07:00

In my roles as an educator and a mentor in the medical transcription industry for the past 9+ years, I have assisted a lot of new transcriptionists along their journey to become productive MTs. One of the most common issues new MTs have is hearing all of the words being dictated. Today I had a student who is studying for her RMT exam write to me for advice on how to fill in blanks and not miss the little words being dictated. The following is my proven method for tackling both problems at once.

1. Listen through the dictation the first time and transcribe everything you can easily hear. Leave blanks for anything you aren't sure of. (Feel free to leave yourself "sounds like" clues in your blanks.)

2. Read through what you transcribed WITHOUT THE VOICE FILE. Correct any obvious grammar and/or spelling errors. Read the report like you would a story - connecting the dots in your mind and making sense of what you are reading. You may be able to fill in some blanks this way.

3. Go back over the dictation a third time - this time listening to the voice file and stopping on your blanks. Don't spend more than 5 minutes per blank. If you're struggling to make out a word, try writing it down phonetically. Then try pronouncing it out loud by putting the emphasis on different syllabus. For example, you hear what sounds like "eye-bip-row-fin." Say it the first time out loud emphasizing the first syllable: EYE-bip-row-fin. Then: eye-BIP-row-fin. Then: eye-bip-ROW-fin, etc. Then try running some of the syllables together: eye-biprow-fin. Or eyebip-rowfin. In the case of this example, hopefully you will eventually hear "ibuprofen."

4. Go over the transcription one last time without the voice file - again reading out loud and trying to understand the story being told.

5. If you end up having to submit the report with blanks, it is imperative that you go back over the report when your instructor or QA person completes it. If you have the opportunity to listen again to the voice file, I highly recommend it. This way you start to make the connection between what you are hearing and what belongs in those elusive blanks.

Learning to decipher medical-ese is like learning any other foreign language. You can't just learn the words using flash cards - you have to hear the words used in "conversation" to truly grasp the language. You will find that there are certain phrases that you hear over and over again: well-developed, well-nourished; no wheezes, rales, or rhonchi; alert and oriented x3. Over time you will almost be able to predict what is being dictated next. And that's when you know you've arrived!

The truth is, you can master anything that you spend valuable time practicing. The only way to master the language of medicine is by repeatedly being exposed to it. Watch medical shows on TV, listen to medical podcasts online, and concentrate when you sit down to the keyboard to do your work - whether for an instructor or your employer. At the end of the day, always aim to do your best. Treat every medical record you work on as if it was your own.

I LOVE: Teavana Teas

2009-09-06T09:30:00.000-07:00

A great friend introduced me to Teavana Teas last Christmas when she gave me the 16 ounce Perfect Tea Maker and a bag of Rooibos Sweet Amore tea as a gift. I have been a tea drinker for as long as a I can remember - raised on hot tea with a little bit of sugar or a dash of milk, maybe the occasional cup of Market Spice Tea (made at Pike Place Market in Seattle), or a tall glass of iced tea on a hot day. I have never been a fan of traditional herbal teas, though. Until now... Teavana has opened my eyes!

A trip to a Teavana retail store is an adventure for the senses. Loose leaf teas are arranged by category in colorful tins lining a large bookshelf - white teas, green teas, oolong teas, black, pu-erh, herbal, rooibos, mate, decaf, organic, and blooming teas - each with dozens of individual flavors to choose from. (Check out Teavana.com and click on "virtual tea wall" to see what I mean!) The employees are standing by to help you pick the perfect tea and will spend as much time as you need pulling down these large tins and allowing you to enjoy the different aromas. They are extremely knowledgeable about the health benefits and caffeine content of each of their teas, and can make excellent suggestions about ways to combine them to create your own custom blends to maximize both flavor and health benefits (I'm currently a fan of a custom blend to help with digestion and weight loss made with monkey-picked oolong, strawberry slender pu-erh, mate lemon blast, and imperial acai blueberry.)

If seeing and smelling aren't good enough, there are always free samples of both hot and cold custom blends to tantalize your taste buds. It's a great way to try something new without having to spend a penny. If you find something you like, you can order a drink to go from their beverage bar. Or purchase a bag of loose leaf to take home.

Loose leaf teas are sold by the ounce, so you can buy as little or as much as you like. They package them in foil-lined bags to preserve the flavors - or you can purchase metal tins to extend the shelf life (and they look great lined up in your cupboards at home). They even sell a variety of pretty tins to match your every mood.

On a rainy day in Seattle, there is nothing better than a hot cup of tea and a good book. Which is exactly what I'm planning to do now.

Woman to Cycle Across America in Support of Military Spouses

2009-06-19T09:31:00.000-07:00

This is from an organization I have worked with to help bring military spouses into the medical transcription industry. A very dedicated group of individuals with a noble cause.

Operation Life Transformed
For Immediate Release

Riding Across America for our military
HeadQuarters - WoodBridge, Virgina- June 19, 2009
Jeannie Benton, a 51 year old female from Bedford, NH, has chosen to seek pledges for Operation Life Transformed by pursuing her first cross country bike ride endeavor exceeding 3600 miles.

A dream that has sat at idle over 12 years to ride across America is becoming unveiled over the next 6 ½ weeks. Jeannie Benton, a 32 year resident of Bedford, NH, believed she would ride the distance one day, but she wanted to do it with purpose. It was at the health club about 12 years ago when she started getting involved in spinning and strength training classes that she realized her ability for endurance on the bike. Jeannie began doing one-day cycling events for fun and for charities and it was then that she started to dream about the idea of riding across America! She is a special education, Para Professional and mom of four grown children. Her ride will start June 21st from Astoria Oregon and will end on August 10th in Portsmouth, NH totaling 3625 miles across the Northern United States.

Operation Life Transformed, established in February of 2007, provides access to flexible accredited online certification programs that lead directly to virtual or portable career placement. These services are offered to military spouses and caregivers of the war wounded. We can also extend our assistance to the military sponsor including; active duty, reserve, National Guard and Veteran service members who have unmet needs due to injury, physical/mental disorders or deployment as a result of service in Iraq or Afghanistan. OLT is expecting to see over 200 students graduate with full job placement by August of 2009. In 2008, over 86% of all monies donated went directly to OLT’s program.
Please join us as we she embarks on her journey across America in support of our military spouses and caregivers of the war wounded around the world!

Learn more: http://www.operationlifetransformed.org/ra.html

Follow Jeannie’s Ride: http://twitter.com/LifeTransformed

Contacts: Operation Life Transformed
Jay Brethen, Grant Development and Fundraising 619-884-0518
Kristina Saul, National Outreach Program Manager 770-445-5286

BOOK REVIEW: Newfound Medical Thriller Author

2009-01-11T22:32:00.000-08:00

I just finished the first of what I expect to be many great medical thrillers by Vancouver, BC, ER physician Daniel Kalla. I found him while searching Barnes and Noble for medical thriller writers that I had not previously read. I wanted to send some to my step-mom for Christmas. By using the "Fans of this book also ordered..." feature, I found my way to Daniel Kalla and quickly scooped up 3 titles. I shipped 2 to my step-mom and kept Rage Therapy for myself. What caught my interest almost immediately about Daniel Kalla's books are that some are centered around Seattle, WA. Who can resist a good thriller placed right in your own back yard?

Rage Therapy is the story of a widowed psychiatrist (Joel Ashman) who consults with the Seattle Police Department doing criminal profiles. When his ex-business partner, the esteemed psychiatrist Stanley Kolberg, is found brutally murdered in his office, Joel is called in to help solve the crime. He soon learns that his ex-mentor was involved in a seedy world of S&M and surrounded himself with a host of shady characters. When Kolberg's partner, Dr. Nichols, is also found murdered, Joel knows he is likely to be next.

Rage Therapy was a real page-turner. The characters were engaging, the plot moved quickly, and there were enough twists and turns to keep my interest. If you're looking for a quick read with a great story line - I recommend you run out and get this one!

For more information on Daniel Kalla, check out www.danielkalla.com

Goodbye Common Sense

2008-10-27T11:04:00.000-07:00

Got this in an email today and just had to share it.

An Obituary printed in the London Times

Today we mourn the passing of a beloved old friend, Common Sense, who has been with us for many years. No one knows for sure how old hewas, since his birth records were long ago lost in bureaucratic red tape. He will be remembered as having cultivated such valuable lessonsas:

Knowing when to come in out of the rain;
Why the early bird gets the worm;
Life isn't always fair; and maybe it was my fault.

Common Sense lived by simple, sound financial policies (don't spend more than you can earn) and reliable strategies (adults, not children,are in charge).

His health began to deteriorate rapidly when well-intentioned but overbearing regulations were set in place. Reports of a 6-year-old boycharged with sexual harassment for kissing a classmate; teens suspended from school for using mouthwash after lunch; and a teacher fired for reprimanding an unruly student, only worsened his condition.

Common Sense lost ground when parents attacked teachers for doing the job that they themselves had failed to do in disciplining their unruly children.

It declined even further when schools were required to get parental consent to administer sun lotion or an Aspirin to a student; but could not inform parents when a student became pregnant and wanted to have an abortion.

Common Sense lost the will to live as the churches became businesses; and criminals received better treatment than their victims.

Common Sense took a beating when you couldn't defend yourself from aburglar in your own home and the burglar could sue you for assault.

Common Sense finally gave up the will to live, after a woman failed to realize that a steaming cup of coffee was hot. She spilled a little in her lap, and was promptly awarded a huge settlement.

Common Sense was preceded in death, by his parents, Truth and Trust, by his wife, Discretion, by his daughter, Responsibility, and by his son, Reason. He is survived by his 4 stepbrothers;

I Know My Rights
I Want It Now
Someone Else Is To Blame
I'm A Victim

Not many attended his funeral because so few realized he was gone.

Where Are The Critical Thinking Skills??

2008-09-30T23:03:00.000-07:00

I'm working on a project for my job that has me really analyzing the skill set involved in critical thinking. Naturally, examples of critical thinking - or more often, not using critical thinking - seem to be popping up all around me.

Tonight we were on our way home from a run to the local Costco when we came upon some road work just getting started. We watched a police officer go to the traffic light control box and turn the traffic lights into flashing red lights. There were 2 cars in front of us - and no one moved. The police officer waved the first car through the intersection, but the second one just sat there. I think they were waiting for either the light to turn green or the cop to wave them through. Finally the cop made a hand motion to them - pointing to the light and showing that it was flashing red, and the car pulled forward. My husband was fit to be tied. He was yelling to no one in particular "flashing red means treat it like a 4-way stop!"

It made me realize how our society tends to wait to be told what to do. Where are the critical thinking skills? Why should we have to be reminded that flashing red lights mean stop and proceed in turns?

Which reminded me of a great You Tube video that was sent to me via email the other day. Another fine example of lack of critical thinking. Check it out if you need a good chuckle. Then consider the tragic nature of a country full of people who are incapable of thinking for themselves.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S13LwVDJb0E

Two years already?

2008-05-22T22:44:00.000-07:00

Today, May 22nd, marks 2 years since the open reduction/internal fixation (ORIF) procedure to correct my shattered ankle. Two whole years! I remember it like it was yesterday. As I prepare to turn in for the night, I can imagine exactly where I was at this time two years ago - in the hospital bed following surgery, complaining through 3 different nurse shifts about the numbing sensation that was working its way up from my ankle toward my kneecap. I remember persistently pushing the button on the PCA machine that administered my pain medication. I remember finally breaking down in tears just after midnight when the 3rd nurse took over for the night shift. I was starting to panic because the numbness was moving its way up my leg. I was having horrible thoughts of losing all feeling in my right leg and having to have it amputated. Imagine my surprise when the kind nurse who finally took time to listen to me (and had already changed my bed pan) turned on the overhead light and I realized she was a girl I went to high school with. Wow! Nothing humbles you quite like looking a childhood acquaintance in the eyes after she changed your bed pan and witnessed you having an emotional breakdown. Bless her heart - she listened to me. I told her that I thought the wrapping was too tight around my ankle and was causing me to lose feeling. She called the surgeon, explained the situation (and my self-diagnosis), and he gave her the okay to re-wrap the ankle. Ahhh...relief!

I can easily picture myself in the same spot two years ago where I now lie - then with my ankle resting atop a stack of pillows, heavily wrapped in postsurgical gauze, and my mind swimming in Vicodin and sleeping pills. I remember the early days well - the frustrating nights of uncomfortable sleep; flipping and flopping, trying to find a position that would allow me to sleep for more than a few minutes before having to move again. I spent the first several days home in a Vicodin-induced stupor. You know you're in a lot of pain when you can't think of anything else.

But flash forward 2 years - 24 months - and while the memories are still crystal clear, I feel almost normal again. Having the metal removed last October was absolutely the right decision. I only occasionally suffer from the painful aching when the weather is wet. I have a good amount of flexibility in the right ankle. It isn't perfect, but I'm managing. The scars are still ugly reminders of what I've been through, and I don't think I will ever be completely healed (physically, mentally, emotionally) - but I've certainly come a long way from where I was 2 years ago today.

There is Hope After all

2008-02-09T10:46:00.001-08:00

I just read an article at CNNMoney.com about the upcoming tax rebates. There is a chance that we will get a rebate. Yippee!! I didn't realize that the rebates are based on "adjusted gross income" - which will help. The goal is to get our tax return done and filed so that I can put this one to bed. Not to mention, I need to do it in order to fill out the FAFSA forms for our 2 college boys. That's always a fun day. It takes hours to pull all of the information together and fill out the numerous pages - which usually results in a message stating that we can afford to pay $30,000 per year out of pocket for each kid's college tuition. Um...right. That's more than we pay for our mortgage at the end of the year - and yet somehow we're supposed to have that kind of disposable cash available. It's important to keep your sense of humor intact at times like this.

Yesterday I was telling a colleague at work that this entire week I have felt like I was running through mud. Expending lots and lots of energy, but not getting very far. I realized last night that I have felt "stuck" like this both at work and in my life outside of work. Lots of activity, but not a lot of progress. Definitely not much time for reflection or appreciation. And perhaps it is the busyness itself that has left me feeling stuck. I am motivated by production. I like to look back on a day at work and be able to say I got something done today! I like to feel that way at home too. Whether it's laundry, cleaning the kitchen, preparing a nice meal, or tackling a project. I feel better if I've accomplished something. I think where I get into trouble is when I lose focus. If I have an endless "to do" list but nothing is prioritized, I become overwhelmed. I really think I need to create a priority list and then approach each day with a single focused goal in mind. If I get that goal completed and manage to tackle others - BONUS!

Of course, there are days when I need to achieve NOTHING in order to feel good. Those are good days too. Sleep in, spend some time reading for pleasure, maybe watch a movie with my kids, go for a walk, work on a puzzle. No deadlines, no expectations. I NEED those days to recharge my batteries - and I think I have finally recognized this and embraced it.

I'm tackling the day today with a new perspective and a more focused plan for moving forward. There is, indeed, hope after all.

Political Rant - Brace Yourself!

2008-01-29T16:21:00.000-08:00

Today our wonderful US House of Representatives passed the "stimulus package." The solution to the economic crisis in America. This is the plan that will provide tax rebates for individuals who really haven't paid much in taxes - but gives nothing to those hard-working Americans like my husband and I. We work hard to make ends meet and hand over a good portion of our earnings in the form of taxes - but we are literally ignored when it comes time for rebates. Once again, the government will take money we have worked hard to earn - and hand it over to those "less fortunate."

Don't get me wrong - I'm all for helping those in need. But I am struggling to understand how I can continue to teach my children to be self-sufficient, when our government continues to reward those that are not. My husband and I are currently paying for two kids in college. We were told we made too much money to qualify for any financial aid - so we have had to take out substantial educational loans. Consequently, I work a full-time job, plus a part-time job, and my husband works a full-time job. We will not qualify for the tax rebate. We get to continue to work endless hours every week to support our family, while others are offered financial aid for their children and will now also receive a tax rebate.

This came around in email today and was too perfect to not share here:

Suppose that every day, ten men go out for beer and the bill for all ten comes to $100. If they paid their bill the way we pay our taxes, it would go something like this:

The first four men (the poorest) would pay nothing.
The fifth would pay $1.
The sixth would pay $3.
The seventh would pay $7.
The eighth would pay $12.
The ninth would pay $18.
The tenth man (the richest) would pay $59.

So, that's what they decided to do. The ten men drank in the bar every day and seemed quite happy with the arrangement, until one day, the > owner threw them a curve. 'Since you are all such good customers, he said, 'I'm going to reduce the cost of your daily beer by $20. Drinks for the ten now cost just $80.

The group still wanted to pay their bill the way we pay our taxes so the first four men were unaffected. They would still drink for free. But what about the other six men - the paying customers?How could they divide the $20 windfall so that everyone would get his 'fair share?'

They realized that $20 divided by six is $3.33. But if they subtracted that from everybody's share, then the fifth man and the sixth man would each end up being paid to drink his beer. So, the bar owner suggested that it would be fair to reduce each man's bill by roughly the same amount, and he proceeded to work out the amounts each should pay.

And so:
The fifth man, like the first four, now paid nothing (100% savings).
The sixth now paid $2 instead of $3 (33%savings).
The seventh now pay $5 instead of $7 (28%savings).
The eighth now paid $9 instead of $12 (25% savings).
The ninth now paid $14 instead of $18 (22% savings).
The tenth now paid $49 instead of $59 (16% savings).

Each of the six was better off than before. And the first four continued to drink for free. But once outside the restaurant, the men began to compare their savings. 'I only got a dollar out of the $20,'declared the sixth man. He pointed to the tenth man,' but he got $10!' 'Yeah, that's right,' exclaimed the fifth man. 'I only saved a dollar, too. It's unfair that he got ten times more than I!' 'That's true!!' shouted the seventh man. 'Why should he get $10 back when I got only two? The wealthy get all the breaks!' 'Wait a minute,' yelled the first four men in unison. 'We didn't get anything at all. The system exploits the poor!' The nine men surrounded the tenth and beat him up.

The next night the tenth man didn't show up for drinks, so the nine sat down and had beers without him. But when it came time to pay the bill, they discovered something important. They didn't have enough money between all of them for even half of the bill!

And that, boys and girls, journalists and college professors, is how our tax system works. The people who pay the highest taxes get the most benefit from a tax reduction. Tax them too much, attack them for being wealthy, and they just may not show up anymore. In fact, they might start drinking overseas where the atmosphere is somewhat friendlier.

David R. Kamerschen, Ph.D.
Professor of Economics, University of Georgia

With gas prices well over $3 per gallon and costs going up everywhere I turn, what options are left for hard-working Americans?

81 days postop - the second time around

2008-01-11T21:01:00.000-08:00

It's hard to believe that I'm almost 3 months postop from my ankle hardware removal on October 22nd. Nonetheless, I am happy to report that I am healing up nicely. The good news is that the persistent aching and stiffness I was having before the procedure has gotten much better. My ankle specialist warned me that I will likely suffer arthritis in the joint and may need another procedure at some point in the future to deal with that. But for now, I am enjoying the relief. My only gripe is the really ugly scars that I am left with. The scars from my initial surgery are still there, though faded some - but the second procedure added another 2, one that is thick and an angry red color about 5 inches in length. In the pictures below, taken about 10 days postop, you can see the incisions beneath the tape. The ones on the inner side are the new ones.

I still have some tingling along the incisions as well. Fortunately, it's the dead of winter. With any luck, these new scars will be faded before I'm tempted to wear shorts again!

Definitely on the mend

2007-10-25T11:50:00.000-07:00

Postop day 3 and I'm feeling pretty good. I am able to walk in the boot relatively comfortably. It's clunky, but much less painful than 2 days ago. I'm having less aching at rest as well. I woke up this morning feeling really encouraged. I even went out to the kitchen and made myself a latte. Being upright for 15 minutes did bring on some throbbing, but it subsided once I put my foot back up. Definite improvement!

I took a bath last night too - which was a little slice of heaven. I put a crutch across the top of the tub and rested my bum leg on that. Getting in and out of the tub was a challenge, but it was definitely worth the effort. It was so rejuvenating.

Yesterday the hardware arrived in the mail. Someone in the surgical center was kind enough to sterilize it and seal it in an envelope for me. It's amazing to see it - it looks much smaller than what I imagined! I thought the metal plate was at least 8 to 10 inches long, but it's actually only 4 or 5 inches in length. Here's a picture!

I haven't had any Percocet since yesterday. I am pretty sure I'm done with that. I was hoping to make it through the day today without needing a nap, but I am starting to doubt it. I'm not going to push it - I want to heal properly and improve my chances of having a great recovery.

So far, so good.

Round Two: Exactly 17 months later

2007-10-22T20:35:00.000-07:00

Today marks exactly 17 months since the surgery for my trimalleolar fracture of the right ankle. And today I again went "under the knife" to have the hardware removed from my ankle. I woke up with my typical stiffness and was anxious to have the procedure done. I believe it all went well - I was sedated through the surgery itself. I had a hard time waking up from anesthesia, and for some reason I struggled with a bad cough and low oxygen saturation rates for the first hour or two postop. They ended up putting me back on O2 by nasal cannula while I was in the recovery ward.

The surprising part for me was the pain. I didn't expect to be completely pain-free immediately after surgery, but I think I was surprised at just how much pain I did have. Dr. Chi told me he was going to give me an "ankle block" and that it probably wouldn't completely cover the pain - but I rated it as 7 out of 10 - with spikes into the 8 or 9 range. Two Percocets and a Vistaril helped take the edge off, but the pain has yet to completely subside. I have been taking 2 Percocets every 3 to 4 hours all day. I tried to take only 1 this last time around, and it's really as if I didn't take any at all. Lots of dull aching just lying still - with stabs of pain if I move it. And it's even worse if I have to get up and use the bathroom. Just the few minutes of being up sends the blood throbbing down into it. Ouchers.

I also haven't been able to fully feel my toes since coming out of anesthesia. I loosened the boot some to see if that would help. At least the numbness isn't moving like it did with my original surgery. I had lost feeling all the way up to my knee cap that time.

Bless my wonderful neighbor for fixing dinner for my family and me. That was very much appreciated. I believe hubby is staying home with me tomorrow, just to make sure I'm on the mend. I intend to spend the entire week in bed with my foot elevated - and work from my laptop. Though today I can't really focus much. The 2 Percocets at the same time leave me nodding in and out of sleep.

I'm really hoping tomorrow is a better day!! If there are a lot of typos in this entry - blame it on the medications.

Sweet dreams ~

Relief in Sight?

2007-10-11T10:29:00.000-07:00

After months of aching and stiffness in my right ankle, I finally went back to my orthopedic surgeon. He did followup x-rays and said I had good alignment and nothing obviously troublesome showing up. We discussed the pros and cons of taking the hardware out from my trimalleolar fracture of 17 months ago. He told me there was no guarantee that removing the metal would improve my situation and that it could put me at risk for a future break. But he also admitted that he is a spine specialist. :) He referred me to an ankle specialist for a second opinion.

I saw Dr. Chi this past Monday. He said at least three times during the review of my x-rays, "That's a bad break!" Tell me about it.

Dr. Chi has recommended that I proceed with hardware removal, arthroscopic debridement, and posteromedial capsulotomy, and I'm scheduled for outpatient surgery on October 22nd. He told me that the likelihood of breaking it again is small - and that he feels the odds are in my favor for improvement with this procedure. He did caution me that I could have long-term arthritis issues, which is in line with what Dr. Price has previously said.

This morning I happened to read an article about arthritis and the effects on working (http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20071011/ap_on_he_me/arthritis_workplace). Since I work at home, I don't foresee a problem with arthritis impacting my ability to earn a living. I do, however, already struggle with driving, exercising, and just getting around. Some days, the stiffness is so bad that I have to go down the stairs sideways. Sometimes the swelling is so severe that I can't wear certain shoes. Driving long distances in my stick-shift car can aggravate my ankle too. More often than not, I wake up stiff and hobble around for the first 30 minutes or so of the morning. An ongoing issue is the lack of strength and stability I feel in the ankle, particularly when walking on uneven surfaces. And I still have flashbacks when I walk down a sloped surface - almost like post-traumatic stress disorder.

So I look forward to the procedure on the 22nd. Dr. Chi told me to expect heavy bleeding for the first several days. I will be on bed rest with my foot elevated during that phase - and then will be in a walking boot for 2 to 6 weeks. Unlike the original injury, I will be able to walk on it immediately. No crutches!! That's good news. Though I'm not sure I will be able to drive the stick-shift car with the boot on. :(

Nonetheless, it's a temporary set back that I hope will result in a better situation in the long run.

Grandpa's Legacy of Love

2007-09-04T21:42:00.000-07:00

Eight days ago I got the call from my mom. My 85-year-old grandpa - her Daddy - had lost his nearly 3-year battle with lung and metastatic brain cancer.

My grandfather was a generous, loving, funny, humble man. He served in WWII with the United States Army. Growing up he told his grandchildren that he was a cook, and a drill sergeant, and a sniper in the army. To this day I don't know if any or all of these are true. He WAS an amazing cook. He made liver and onions palatable. He introduced me to little silver fish called smelt and shrimp cocktail. He made the best green beens and ham hocks and red potatoes. He would also line up my brother, sister, and me and recite a military cadence that I remember to this day.

Left. Left. Left, right, left. I left my wife and my 48 kids back in the states without any hamburgers left. Left. Left, right, left.

This is a picture of my grandpa and some of his army buddies. Grandpa is the handsome young devil kneeling down on the far right.

Grandpa was a real joker. He would show up for Easter Sunday with a frown and proceed to explain to us in his saddest tone about how the easter bunny jumped out in front of his car and he couldn't avoid hitting him. He gave us the same story on Christmas Eve - claiming to have run over Santa and his reindeer on his way over to our house.

These were some of the special stories that were shared by the pastor who presided over grandpa's funeral last Saturday. We had a small gathering of close family and friends at the grave site. Simple and intimate - just the way grandpa would have wanted it. When Pastor Dan related the story about the easter bunny and Santa, heads were bobbing up and down in silent agreement all around me.

Pastor Dan said if he had to choose one word to describe my grandfather it would be love. Grandpa was definitely loved, and he knew how to love in return. Before cancer took away his stamina, he would ride his Schwinn bike around his 55-and-over trailer park, with his Scottish Terrier Duffy in a basket on the front, stopping to visit with his neighbors. Within hours of his passing, a note was posted near the mailboxes in his park and people started stopping by his house to pay their respects.

This is what Pastor Dan referred to as leaving a legacy of love. His parting words for us as the funeral came to a close were a challenge of sorts. He encouraged each of us to create our own legacy - a legacy of love.

It didn't occur to me until a few days later that I had heard a similar message the night before the funeral from the famous Motown musician, Stevie Wonder. Kirk and I had tickets to see Stevie at the Ste. Michelle Winery near our home. We bought them weeks ago. Long before we knew grandpa would be gone. At the end of the amazing 2-hour show, Stevie also chose his parting words to be about love. He is touring only 11 cities this summer - but all in honor of his mother, whom he obviously loved with every ounce of his being. He talked about her regularly throughout his show. He shared stories about his mother and how she expressed love. He shared stories about his relationship with his own children and how much he loves them. And as he prepared to leave the stage, he reminded everyone in attendance that everything is possible through love.

Today has been a long day. The first day of school for my junior high girl, my high school girl, and one of my college boys. I made sure to give each of them some of my time today. I wanted to hear all about their first-day experiences. I wanted to start building my legacy of love.

Grandpa, you may be gone but you will never be forgotten. I love you.

Flashbacks

2007-08-02T22:20:00.000-07:00

I was in Chicago earlier this week for an educator's conference and flew back home on a United flight. United Airlines primarily flies in and out of the North Satellite at Seatac Airport. It had been a long day, and a long flight, and I was tired and ready to get home when the plane pulled up to the gate at 8 pm last night. I gathered my things and found my way off the plane, chatting with my son on the cell phone to make arrangements to be picked up. As I hung up the phone and walked toward the escalators leading to the underground train and, eventually, baggage claim, I had an odd sensation come over me. Right in front of me was gate N10. I recognized it immediately as the gate where my accident happened just 14 months earlier.

I was literally stopped in my tracks. I have traveled dozens of times since that fateful trip last May, but I had never been this close to the scene of the accident. And, frankly, I was surprised at my own reaction all these months later. While I continue to deal with physical repercussions - the aching and stiffness in my ankle and the throbbing pain that wakes me on rainy nights - I had truly believed that the emotional trauma was over.

I have to travel again in another 12 days. I'm grateful that I am not flying United - which means chances are pretty good that I won't be flying out of the North Satellite. I obviously need a little more time to heal.

Three Strikes - you're back to the drawing board

2007-07-28T23:31:00.000-07:00

I attended the Pacific Northwest Writer's conference in Seattle this weekend. I went for my first time about 8 years ago and found the experience to be very inspirational and exhilirating. This year I decided to register primarily because my good friend Pat had entered their writing contest and was a top-ten finalist. I wanted to be there to support her at the banquet in the event that she took home the blue ribbon.

While I have primarily been writing technical articles for work, I do continue to dabble in what I have come to refer to as "pleasure writing" from time to time. I have taken 2 writing courses in the past year, and I continue to devote some brain time to writing ideas and outlines. However, I did not go to the conference this year with a completed project in hand - and I really had no intention of meeting with agents or editors. But when my registration packet arrived with 2 appointment cards, one for an agent and one for an editor, it was hard to not take that as a "sign" and attend those appointments.

My first appointment was with an agent. She was a very nice woman who I would have been happy to have represent me - if I had a completed project. I opted to "pitch" the idea of my transplant memoir to her. I had circulated this idea at this same conference 8 years ago - talking to 3 agents at that meeting. None were intensely interested, but one did give me a referral to a friend of hers that she thought might be. I probably should have pursued it then. This year's agent told me that the idea was not marketable as a book because it didn't have enough "mass appeal." She suggested I condense it into a magazine article and try to sell that. Perhaps it was the fact that I accidentally mentioned that I have been working on this book for nearly 10 years now that turned her off? Ugh. Strike one.

My appointment with an editor wasn't much better. I sat at a round table with 5 other anxious authors, all taking turns pitching their story to this very nice agent who represented a publishing house in New York. It didn't seem to matter much that she was primarily looking for projects in the romance genre. We all carried on with our polished pitches as if we could somehow convince her that she couldn't leave town without our project (assuming we HAD one) in her briefcase.

Two people before my turn, a woman pitched her idea of a memoir centered around her grandfather who was a homesteader in Oregon. The editor suggested she try to sell the project to a local - more regional - publishing house. She went on to say that memoirs only work in the mass market if they are written by someone famous. Ugh.

When it was my turn, I launched into my pitch with a little bit of reservation based on what she had told the woman writing the homesteader memoir. Nonetheless, she heard me out and then smiled and said, "Have you seen an agent yet?" I shook my head yes. "I'll bet she told you to consider turning this into a magazine article..." WHAM. Once again, she reiterated that there is no mass market for this project. I wanted to argue - but it seemed futile at that point. Perhaps it was finally time to bury this idea. After all, I had lost my momentum somewhere around 8 years ago. Perhaps it was after that last writer's conference where the idea was met with lukewarm reception?? Strike two.

The very next session I attended at the conference was about women as influential writers. In the course of the presentation someone asked a question about copyright laws and quoting song lyrics. The other big project I have been working on for the last 2 years is my "Everything I Ever Needed to Know I Learned from Rock Music" book. This is a project I was truly excited about. I had nearly 100 one-line song lyrics saved on my laptop (the one that broke down last summer and I haven't had time to resurrect). Come to find out that you cannot quote song lyrics without first obtaining permission from ASCAP and the publisher of the song. The speaker said one small clip of lyrics in a book she represented once cost $300 just to obtain the rights to reprint the lyrics. I have nearly 100 clips saved! Suddenly this quaint, hip project has gotten very expensive. I asked if I could create a character that often quoted song lyrics as a form of communication (an idea I had for a protagonist in a mystery novel). The speaker said that water is simply too dangerous to tread in and quoting lyrics should be avoided if at all possible. Ugh. Ugh. Ugh. Strike three...you're...broken?

For a moment I felt completely defeated and hopeless. I had put a tremendous amount of time into the transplant book - even though it wasn't anywhere near complete. And I was so excited and fond of the song lyric book. It was like falling in love with a puppy and then being told I can't take it home. I was ready to throw in the towel and admit defeat. I even said to Pat, in a temporary moment of extreme self-pity, "Maybe this is a sign that I'm not meant to be a writer?"

Fortunately, I came to my senses. I have decided that while I didn't leave this years' conference feeling exhilirated and inspired - I did leave feeling more focused and deliberate about my work. So what if I don't have a primary project needling at my brain at the moment - at least I know where NOT to put my energy. That has to count for something.

Oh - and Pat didn't take home a blue ribbon. For now, she has to be happy with being a top-ten finalist in a contest that netted nearly 1000 applicants across 12 categories. In my opinion, that's pretty damned impressive. At least she had a completed project!

The Early Bird Catches the...OUCH!

2007-04-03T07:09:00.000-07:00

I've been wide awake since about 5:30 am. This is unusual for me. It's not that I am well rested either. My eyes feel like they are lined with sand. But I flipped and flopped for about 45 minutes, and then finally got up to face the day. I figured I might actually get something done while the house is still quiet.

I did toy with the idea of going to the gym - but once I got out of bed and realized how stiff my ankle is today, I changed my mind. It's been nearly 11 months since the accident and I'm still hobbling. It's very frustrating.

I am fed up with my weight. I may have only gained 5 pounds over the last 11 months, but I really can't afford to gain much more. I am trying to be more active - but it seems to come at a cost. For example, I'll take a walk - a nice, steady pace. And then pay the price with a swollen, aching ankle for 2 days.

Last night the girls wanted to go swimming at the YMCA. I figured it would be a gentle form of exercise that would be good for my ankle - so I strapped on my suit (more like squeezed into it!) and off we went. It felt great to get in the water. I have to say, it's the one place where I don't feel fat! I swam laps - gentle, slow, easy laps. I also sat in the hot tub for a while. Very nice. I came home feeling really good. I slept solid (until 5:30 am!). I felt hopeful that I had finally found a form of exercise that might work. Until I got out of bed...

Maybe it's just sore because I haven't been swimming in a while. Maybe it's just sore because I need to stretch it more. Maybe it's just sore because I'm still healing.

Or maybe this is the way it will be for the rest of my life. What a depressing thought.

Waiting for the Swarming Locusts

2007-01-03T22:30:00.000-08:00

It has been an insane few weeks for anyone living in Western Washington! Surely there are believers out there who are convinced that the Armageddon is upon us. In early November we were treated to record flooding. Only weeks later, a snow storm hit - followed closely by a deep freeze that blanketed the region in black ice. Then a major wind storm knocked out power to over 1 million homes - leaving some people without power for over a week. Yesterday we broke a temperature record (56 degrees) as well as record rainfall.

If the weather wasn't bad enough, we have had a host of home improvement problems crop up. Two weeks before the wind storm we discovered a leak from the water line going into our new refrigerator. Our son woke us up at 1 am to let us know there was water dripping from the ceiling in the downstairs family room. Hubby ripped out a large portion of the ceiling to diagnose the problem - and a plumber came out and replaced the cracked tubing running through the attic with copper pipe in the floor between the 2 stories of the house. That was an $800 repair job, not including the repair to the ceiling (which still needs to be fixed). We also noticed that the Pergo flooring in the dining room suffered some buckling from the leak.

The night of the wind storm, we discovered a leak in the roof when water was dripping from the dining room light fixture. Hubby was busy dismantling the light fixture when the same water savvy son came up to tell him that the laundry room and bathroom downstairs were flooded. Thinking it was a water pipe that may have broken during the deep freeze, hubby turned off the water main. But the water kept coming. On our way out the sliding glass door downstairs, we discovered that the carpet in the family room was completely saturated. We were in the midst of torrential rain fall at a rate of nearly 2 inches every hour - and it turns out that the rain water was pouring in from beneath the sliding glass door and then seeping down the edge of the house into the bathroom and laundry room. We dug a "moat" around our concrete patio out back to help pull the water away from the house and were in the process of sucking up the water out of the carpet with a wet vac when we lost power. We had used up all of our dry towels on the laundry room floor so I pulled out some flannel sheets and tried to mop up as much of the water as I could. Then the carpet sat wet for the 4+ days that we were without power. The first chance we got, we rented a commerical carpet blower and dried it out - but a moldy smell lingered.

We had a friend come over and help us seal off the gap below the sliding glass door. We also called Empire Today (you know the tune - 800-588-2300 Empire - TODAY!) and ordered new carpet for the family room. While we were at it, we decided to have the Pergo upstairs pulled up and replaced with hardwoods - along with the kitchen and stairs. The carpet installers arrived a few days later and began pulling up the old carpet. We then discovered that the leak from the night of the wind storm was not fixed. The floor was saturated again. ARGH! We had to send the carpet installers away while we diagnosed and repaired the leak. We're pretty sure the damage was coming from a faulty downspout that was literally pouring rain water directly onto the edge of the foundation. We extended the downspouts, put in some drains, and were satisfied enough with the repair job to have the carpet installers back out the next day to finish the job. (The carpet looks awesome, by the way!)

The next day the hardwood installers showed up and pulled up all of the Pergo, kitchen linoleum, and carpet off the stairs. Surprise, surprise. The leak from the refrigerator left a huge patch of damp plywood floor beneath the Pergo and linoleum. The hardwood guys couldn't finish the job until that dried out - so out came the fans. In the meantime, the entire contents of our dining room and kitchen were stacked in the living room, and there were boxes upon boxes of hardwood stacked in our narrow hallway leading to the bedrooms. We could barely move around on the top floor of the house. It took 2 days to get the wood dried out and get Empire to send out another crew to finish the job. (Thank you, Moses, for a job well done!)

Everything is done now and it all looks great. It started raining again yesterday. I have been running downstairs every few hours to check the downspout and make sure the new carpet is safe. So far, so good.

In a way, it seemed like a fitting way to end an otherwise horrific year. In 2006, I was in a car accident that left my BMW a total loss; I suffered a trimalleolar fracture of my right ankle and spent all summer in a cast and/or walking boot; my grandfather's lung cancer has moved from his left lung to his brain to his right lung and now back to his brain; my sister has completely self-destructed - starting with a DUI accident, then jail time, losing her job, a felony charge, more jail time, and now a problem with meth.

I'm ready for a new year - new beginnings. Either that, or the swarm of locusts that will signal the end of it all.

Day 19 and All is Quiet

2006-11-19T21:03:00.000-08:00

The end of day 19 for Nanowrimo is rapidly approaching. I have written a pathetic 2788 words. My 11-year-old daughter is on page 28 of her story - I'm up to page 9. She's kicking my butt. But I'm not discouraged. I have always done my best work under pressure. The problem seems to be my inner critic. I realize that the goal of this project is to JUST WRITE, but I can't seem to stop reading and re-reading and editing every single word. I inherently know that this is absolutely contradictory to the plan. And yet...

So, with 11 days and 3 hours left, I am going to dive in for the next hour or two and see if I can actually get some words cranked out. I am using this blog as a pep talk to myself and my inner critic. Tonight's goal is word count. It's all about quantity and not necessarily about quality.

So cover me, I'm going in.

I Must Be NUTS

2006-11-01T15:41:00.000-08:00

Halloween always marks the beginning of what I call "The Season of Eating." First there is all of that candy. Then just a few short weeks away we celebrate Thanksgiving with turkey and gravy and all of the fixings. Then comes the Christmas delights - plates of homemade cookies and candy from friends and relatives, followed by a big meal (usually prime rib) on Christmas Day. You would think that is the end - but then we have New Year's Eve with the drinking and snacking. I really don't consider the season over until after SuperBowl - another day of fabulous feasting.

During this very busy time of eating, I have decided to take the leap and finally try to write a book. I found out about something called NanoWrimo through a fiction writing class I just finished. The challenge is to write 50,000 words between Nov. 1st and Nov. 30th. To stay on track, you need to pen approximately 2,000 words per day. It's 3:40 pm and I haven't written a single word yet. Oy. Not starting out very well. But I'm not giving up! I have an outline, I have a plot and subplot, and I have a few characters sketched out. Now all I have to do is put pen to paper (or fingers to keys) and JUST DO IT.

5-1/2 Months and Limping

2006-10-27T19:39:00.000-07:00

I can't believe how the time has been flying by since I was given the approval to drive and walk without my boot. I made a successful business trip to Denver earlier this month without incident. My ankle still swells up if I spend too much time on it. It still aches first thing in the morning and is stiff. But I am not nearly as handicapped as I was just 2 short months ago. That's progress.

I'm dealing with the physical reminders of the accident, but what really surprises me are the emotional issues I still have. When I went to board the plane out of Seattle to Denver this month, I was almost afraid to walk down the jetway. I walked very gingerly, holding onto the hand rail and taking small baby steps the entire length of the walkway. I'm sure the people behind me were annoyed - but I didn't care. Once while I was at my conference in Denver, I was carrying 2 cups of coffee, one in each hand, and walking down a carpeted hallway that had a slight decline to it. I had this terrible image of my ankle giving out and had to stop to calm myself down before continuing down the hallway. Any time that I walk down a ramp of any kind I feel like I'm back in the moment of the accident in May. I can picture my heel sliding forward and my ankle rolling. I relive it over and over again. I wonder how long I will continue to have these flashbacks? I wonder if other people who have had similar experiences also have flashbacks. Is this post traumatic stress disorder??

PT FREE!!

2006-08-31T13:13:00.000-07:00

Today was my last physical therapy appointment! My PT said I have made excellent progress but should continue with my home exercise program. I'm still having some aching pain after being physically active, but she said that should start to lessen over time. By 6 months out, I shouldn't be having much pain.

It definitely feels like a major milestone in this unreal journey. I am now able to drive, though extended periods of driving does cause my ankle to ache. I can walk without crutches, though sometimes I hobble a bit. Most of my shoes fit, as long as I don't spend too much time on my feet. The biggest problem is the aching late in the day and throughout the night. I've been icing it in the late afternoon, and yesterday I took an Aleve because the pain was so bad. Slow but steady. My PT said it could take a year before I feel "back to normal." A year. A year of my life because of a steep jetway.

Summer "Break"

2006-08-17T14:33:00.000-07:00

This has been a bizarre summer. I have just returned from two trips. The first was a week in Boston for my annual convention. I spent most of my time on my crutches, with occasional walking in the boot without them. My stamina was much lower, and I found that I had to put my foot up and rest for at least an hour each afternoon. I didn't have the energy to go out with friends and colleagues in the evening. Traveling was a real pain in the neck. While my foot didn't set off any metal detectors, I had to be taken aside at each airport so that my boot and hands could be swabbed for explosive powder residue. At Logan airport, it took an eternity to get through security because they only had one female rep on staff. I offered to take my boot off, but they said that wouldn't help. I'm grateful for the extra security (especially in light of what happened this past week with Scotland Yard foiling a terrorist plot involving airplanes), but it definitely was made worse by the fact that I was in a walking boot with crutches.

Once I returned home from the Boston trip, the family all piled into the minivan and drove 3500 roundtrip miles to Colorado and back. I was able to get around better without the crutches, wearing the boot, but a few days I overdid it and ended up in pain at night. The hotel where we stayed in Colorado had a hot tub and I made a point to sit in that a few times, which did help. It would have been nice to go hiking in Colorado, but that was nearly impossible in my condition. We did visit Boulder Falls (absolutely beautiful) and I was able to "hike" a few yards up the trail, but then had to wait for the rest of the family so that they could go to the top and view the falls. I was more concerned about coming back down and whether or not I would be stable enough to make it.

While my summer hasn't been ideal, I'm just glad that I wasn't completely incapacitated. It will definitely be a summer I won't soon forget.

PT times 3

2006-07-27T12:37:00.000-07:00

I had my third visit with physical therapy yesterday. I have been feeling really good about my progress. After my first PT visit, I ended up having to ice my ankle later that evening because it was so sore. The second visit was much better - with no lingering discomfort. But following yesterday's visit - YOW!

The only "new" thing we did was some stretching of my ankle from side to side. Otherwise, it was a typical visit. However, I could tell within an hour after that I was going to be uncomfortable. I figured it would swell up and I could just ice it, but that's not the case. What I'm having is real pain along the metal rod side (the outer side). If I sit still, it's fine. But if it rubs against anything - my camo boot, the sheets, my clothes - it hurts like crazy. Like a deep bruise almost, though there is no discoloration.

The ankle itself looks really good, and my scars seem to be healing nicely. I don't have a lot of swelling and there is essentially no pain when I weight bear. Just this shooting pain along the edge of the metal rod.

I won't have PT for the next 2 weeks because we'll be traveling. I was given a rubber band and told to do the exercises at home, like I have been. I see the doctor again on August 15th, and I'm hoping he'll clear me for full weight bearing out of the boot and without crutches then. Maybe even approval to drive! THAT will feel like tremendous progress.

Wine Tasting Weekend

2006-07-24T19:13:00.000-07:00

Hubby and I slipped away with another couple to eastern Washington for a wine tasting weekend. We left bright and early Saturday morning and returned last night. It was a great opportunity to spend some time away with good friends, and to test my stamina on crutches and a walking boot.

The drive over was uneventful. I went through 2 skeins of yarn on a crocheted blanket I'm working on for my daughter. It was predicted to be in the low 100's in eastern Washington, and it was! I think the thermometer topped out around 107 on Saturday. YUCK! The worst part was having my foot in the camo boot - which acted as it's own heat conductor. When I finally took the boot off at 8 pm Saturday night, it was soaked in sweat. I did ice my foot for a while before we left for dinner, since it swelled up some in the boot.

It was a little annoying having to crutch my way in and out of 10 different wineries - but it wasn't completely miserable. Nearly everyone wanted to know what happened - and one winery, Maison de Padgett, even gave me a free bottle of wine. I'll call it "sympathy wine." :0) (This winery makes a GREAT coffee-flavored port, by the way!)

After about 4 hours on my feet on Sunday, however, my ankle started to ache. I knew it was sweaty again and I actually felt my foot slipping around inside the boot - which I think just aggravated the ankle bones. After the long drive home, hubby and I had to take a ferry ride over to Whidbey Island to pick up our daughter, and by the time I got home the boot was starting to feel tight - a real sign that there was some swelling going on.

All-in-all, I held up pretty darned well. I'm exhausted today - but that could be the heat wave we are suffering with here in the Pacific Northwest as much as anything. I've got my third PT appointment on Wednesday. I've been pretty good about performing my stretching exercises and I have been doing partial weight bearing as tolerated. I'm feeling pretty good about my progress.

Cast-less Images

2006-07-11T12:32:00.000-07:00

Here are some recent photos.

My dry and crusty foot.

The inner scar - and my really hairy leg!
Check out how skinny my calf muscle is!

My "Frankenstein" scar where the metal plate is.

Fortune Cookies and Horoscopes

2006-07-11T12:13:00.000-07:00

You will have a new look that will do wonders. This is what my fortune cookie said the day before my cast was to come off.

The next morning, my horoscope arrived in my inbox and it read:
You may feel an increased enthusiasm today, which may be due to the changes you have been making in your life recently. When we experience positive changes in our lives we are buoyed by our increase of positive energy. We can use this energy to continue to change our lives for the better, since change only happens when we make a conscious effort to do so.

It was as if the Universe was aligning just for me - just for my BIG DAY!

Things went well at the doc that day. My cast came off. The x-rays look good. Even the 7-week-old pedicure is still going strong.

Now I'm in a camo boot, which my online friend Sarah calls "Robo Boot." I am to wear it whenever I am up and moving around. I can weight bear up to 50% with crutches, though I'm having a tough time figuring out what that means exactly. Fortunately, I start physical therapy tomorrow.

The next milestone for me will be to ditch the crutches. Even with the ability to partially use my right foot, I still find that I am exhausted when I have to walk around too much. I made the mistake of going to Costco the night that the cast came off and I suffered for it. I still break into a sweat if I've been standing on my good leg for too long. I am treating the scars with an over-the-counter ointment called Mederma. I've still got quite a bit of dead skin sloughing off the bottom of my foot too. But the good news is - I can get my foot wet. I spent Saturday at the neighbors, soaking in their hot tub (a little piece of heaven!). I also took a hot bath my first night home and it was wonderful to not have to balance my leg out of the tub. I'm definitely making progress!

The doc says it will likely be another 6 weeks before I am completely crutch and boot free and able to drive again. However, I have been told to expect intermittent swelling and stiffness for at least 6 months to a year. I'm trying not to get bogged down in the thought of a long recovery, and just be grateful for the progress I have made so far.

Thanks to all of my supporters for sticking with me up to this point!

Happy Indendence Day!

2006-07-04T11:32:00.000-07:00

As we celebrate our country's "birthday" - the 230th anniversary of the signing of the Declaration of Independence - I would like to be signing my own declaration of independence. For me, the battle to be independent rages on.

I have just returned from a trip to the grocery store with my husband. I decided I could tag along using my crutches. Even after all these weeks, I still can't endure more than 15 minutes or so before I break into a complete sweat. It's so frustrating!! I tried to be helpful, hobbling down the aisles to take things off the shelf. But if the cart wasn't nearby, I found it very difficult to carry anything while using the crutches. ARGH!!

I am making a salad for our 4th of July party this afternoon. I will have my daughter put all of the ingredients on the kitchen counter, and then I will put a chair up to the counter and sit while I chop up the ingredients and assemble the salad. That's a baby step towards independence!

I see the doctor in 46 hours. Hopefully the cast comes off and the walking boot goes on. Another giant leap towards independence.

I wish everyone a blessed and happy Independence Day. A day to be thankful for the freedoms we are so proud of. And a day to think of our troops who are scattered all over the world, working to protect those freedoms.

HAPPY 4th of JULY!

Six Weeks and One Day: Take Two

2006-06-29T17:10:00.000-07:00

This time last week I made a post where I claimed it had been 6 weeks and 1 day since my accident. Turns out I miscalculated. I jumped the gun by a week. TODAY is really 6 weeks and 1 day since my trimalleolar fracture. For real!

This week I'm in better spirits - probably because I am counting down to the day the cast comes off. Six days and 17 hours from now. I am really anxious to have an x-ray done and see what kind of progress my bone healing is making. Over the last week or so, I have noticed that I am using the toe of my bad foot to balance myself. Consequently, the underside of my cast has a crack in it. I must also be putting my foot down more, because the bottom of the cast is dirty and I can barely read the writing that Kayla put on the cast there.

Have I mentioned yet that I am getting ugly brown calluses along the outer edge of the heel of my palms from using the crutches? I have been trying to rub Burt's Bees Hand Salve into the rough, cracked skin at night before going to sleep. My right hand is pretty bad. Reminds me of my days on the playground in elementary school and the rough spots that would develop on my hands from playing on the "monkey bars." I may end up having to use a pumice stone on my right palm to get back down to smooth skin. The "Toe Paste" that I've been dealing with has also helped form a deep groove on the bottom of my foot. I am sure that will require some serious pumice work once my foot is free of the cast as well. I look forward to the first time I can take a bath and put my bum foot in the water. Ahhhh...

The other weird thing I've noticed lately are bruises cropping up on the insides of my upper arms and my thighs. I am wondering if it's because of the 2 aspirin I take every day to prevent blood clots while I'm so sedentary. I don't recall bumping into anything - but I have 3 bruises on the inside of my right thigh - not circular bruises, more like streaks. There is also a dark, round bruise under my right arm about 3 inches from my armpit. It's about the size of an M&M. The kind with chocolate inside - without the peanuts. :0)

The good news - I'm 100 pages shy of finishing my 7th book since the accident. I read 2 Jodi Picoult novels the first week (actually finished one I had already started and then read another one entirely), followed by 3 Chuck Palahniuk books, then a Lisa Scottoline mystery (thanks, Denise!), and am now rounding the corner on finishing up another Jodi Picoult story. This is the most "pleasure reading" I have done in years! Fortunately, I still have a healthy stack of books waiting for my attention. If I could handle the heat we've been dealing with here in Seattle, I could get a good base tan while I do my reading. What an interesting "farmer's tan" my cast would create!

My Colorful Cast of Characters

2006-06-28T18:37:00.000-07:00

I finally uploaded some pictures off the digital camera - including this snapshot of my very colorful, artistic, love-covered cast.

On a Clear Day...

2006-06-28T14:16:00.000-07:00

...you can see forever! It is an absolutely beautiful day here in Seattle today. The high temps of the past few days have finally cooled down to a more manageable 75 degrees. There isn't a cloud in the sky today, with a gentle breeze blowing. My friend Jane picked me up and took me out to lunch. We ate at a nice restaurant on a lake. Great food, great views, and even greater company! THANKS JANE!

We also stopped by our friend Carolyn's to see her newly painted bathroom. Very nice! It's inspiring, really. There is so much I would like to be doing around the house. I told my daughter that as soon as I can be up on my feet a little, we will paint her bedroom. We are also in the process of getting bids to have a concrete patio poured out back - and possibly a parking pad - and to have the house painted. I would also like to get someone to do some yard work, particularly out back.

I've got 8 more days in my cast! I did find a nifty product called Xerosox that I wish I had known about 3 weeks ago. It is a "sleeve" of sorts that fits over the cast and then you attach a vacuum apparatus that sucks the air out and provides you with a waterproof seal. This would have allowed me to go swimming, sit in a hot tub, take a bath, etc. I couldn't justify spending the $40 with only a week left in it, though. Oh well!

Today is definitely a two-thumbs-up day. I am seeing the light at the end of the tunnel.

The Visuals

2006-06-27T14:55:00.000-07:00

Here are some pictures taken 8 days after my surgery:

This one is of my postop splint. Check out the beautiful pedicure! I had that done the night before the accident and even now, almost 6 weeks later, it looks amazing. Kudos to InStyle Nails in Woodinville, WA!!

This one is the inside incision where 2 screws were placed. It's pretty bruised up.

This is the outer incision where 8 screws and a long metal plate were put. I think I counted 35 stitches between the 2 incisions.

These are the x-rays 8 days postop. Check out all that metal. Groovy! If you look carefully, you can see my poor shattered fibula behind that long metal bar.

The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly

2006-06-26T14:36:00.000-07:00

First off, I can't add. I miscalculated the dates in my last post - saying I was 6 weeks and 1 day out from my accident when I was really 5 weeks and 1 day out. Jeesh! And I've even been exercising my brain with crossword puzzles almost daily!! I have 10 days until my doctor's appointment and potential cast removal. And yes, I added the dates up twice to make sure I had it right this time. Ten days. Of course, today we are experiencing record-high temperatures in Seattle. They are expecting the low 90s today. Other than the downstairs basement, I am in the coolest room in the house, in front of an oscillating fan, and I can still feel the sweat collecting inside my cast. Ick. I may take a cool bath just to get some relief. And the dull aching continues. I hope to God it means my bones are healing.

Saturday night we took our nephew Al to Jazz Alley with some friends of ours to see Larry Carlton. Larry has been a session player and played with some amazing acts like Steely Dan and Joni Mitchell and Michael McDonald from the Doobie Brothers. The show was wonderful! As I told one of our friends though, I can understand why Ted Bundy used a fake arm fracture to lure his victims. The attention and sympathy I get for this broken ankle is amazing. It is both beautiful and loving as well as humiliating and annoying for an independent girl like myself. While waiting in line before the show, one of the valet men brought me a chair to sit on. Nothing like standing out like a sore thumb in a crowd when you're the only one sitting at crotch level! But it was very sweet of him - and I'm sure it saved me from the ritual of breaking into a sweat after being on my feet for too long. I truly did appreciate it. I don't mean to belittle the efforts of the very generous people around me. A few minutes before the doors opened we were told to go to the back door to the "handicapped entrance" so that I didn't have to deal with 2 levels of stairs. What a life-saver! We were able to walk right in and the hostess immediately set up a table for us and the rest of our party - right in front of the stage. As I hobbled over to the table she said, "You poor thing. How much longer are you going to be in that thing?" She was very sweet, and I really did appreciate her being so accommodating. After the show, Larry Carlton and his band lingered around and signed autographs. We sent Al (along with our friend's son Matthew) with our CD and his and a pen to collect the autographs. What a great surprise it was to see Larry Carlton following the boys back to our table so he could sign my cast! He said, "I don't get this opportunity every day!"

Being crippled certainly has its privileges. I've got an autograph on my cast to prove it - and I had the pleasure of watching the show without the risk of falling down 2 flights of stairs. But as much as I appreciate the generosity and kindness of everyone I encounter, I would trade it all for the ability to take my new car for a drive on my own. Or the chance to go swimming with my daughter. Or the ability to take my dogs for a walk around the neighborhood. The truth is, I'm used to being my own woman. I hate having to ask someone to fill my water glass, or get me something to eat. I hate watching my husband do all the work around here. I hate feeling like all I am doing is TAKING and not giving at all. Always RECEIVING. I hate watching my legs get flabby, knowing that I have a battle ahead of me to tone them up that is even greater than it was before the accident. I just want my normal life back. I won't complain about having to cook or clean. I won't complain about running kids all over town.

Ten more days until my next milestone.

Six Weeks and One Day

2006-06-22T18:04:00.000-07:00

That's how much time has passed since the accident on May 17th that resulted in a trimalleolar fracture of my right ankle. The first time I saw the doctor, he told me to expect surgery followed by 4 weeks in a cast and then 4 to 6 weeks in a walking boot. That leads me to believe that I am half way through this process. So - at the half-way point, it's important to ask the question - is my glass half empty, or half full?

Today, I'm leaning towards the half empty attitude. Only half way through the process! No guarantees that it won't take even longer to return to normal... I can't imagine another 6 weeks of relying on others for everything! WAAA WAAA WAAA

The good news is that my cast should come off in exactly 2 weeks. I do look forward to that milestone and perhaps once I've made it that far, my attitude will improve. Either my swelling has gone way down or I'm losing inches of muscle mass from my right calf muscle - but my cast is getting sloppier and sloppier each day. I am convinced that I could wiggle my foot out of the cast if I set my mind to it. I've seen boys haircuts with shorter hair than the hair growing on my leg right now. And the bottom of my foot is dry and crusty. Earlier this week I slathered what I could reach in Vaseline. Now I'm "peeling" off some bizarre mixture of Vaseline and dried skin. My son called it Toe Paste. When I stretch my legs out in my sleep, my right leg quivers.

I've had a resurgence of discomfort in my foot - over the ankle bones and across the top of the foot. I'm determined to stay away from my Vicodin so I continue to keep my foot elevated as much as possible, which leaves me feeling completely useless as a contributor to my family. My husband's shoulder has been bothering him and I know he doesn't feel well, yet I know if I were to try and get up to help tidy up the house or prepare a meal I would pay the price physically and he would be upset with me for pushing myself. So I lie here with my trusty laptop, tapping out my frustrations in this blog.

To add to things, my best friend of 33 years moved to Detroit this morning. We hugged and cried like babies last night. I reminded her that we never say "good-bye," we only say "see you soon." We have lived in separate parts of the country off and on for our entire adult lives, but it doesn't make it any easier.

Six weeks and one day with my mood hovering dangerously close to self pity and depression. But the sun came out today, my friend Dee Dee is going to take me shopping in my wheelchair tomorrow, and if I can get a good nights' sleep tonight - tomorrow should most certainly look brighter than today.

Three is a Magic Number

2006-06-20T17:54:00.000-07:00

warning: this post may continue elements of "too much information" for some. Read on at your own risk!

Have you heard the old saying "good things come in threes?" How about "third time's a charm?" "Three strikes and you're out?" Whenever I hear about a famous person dying, I always wait for the other 2 that quickly follow. And they always do! When someone I know suffers a bout of bad luck, I wait anxiously for the third thing to happen, knowing that the end is in sight. I really believe there is something to be said about the magic of the number 3.

Anyway - today I added my third reason to lock myself away and feel sorry for myself. As if the imprisonment of the broken ankle and a sudden bout of bad allergies (sneezing, coughing, rough voice, feeling crummy) keeping me up at night wasn't enough...today "aunt flo" came to visit. My "monthly cycle." Menstruation. My stupid period. Last month it was a week early (probably due to the trauma of my accident), and this time it's one day late. I was hoping it would just take a vacation for a while.

Ever since I was 14 years old, I have been plagued with awful menstrual cramps. The kind that have you doubled over in bed with a heating pad and a bottle of ibuprofen. I knew I was in for it this morning when the cramping started to make my legs go numb. My immediate reaction is to reach for the ibuprofen - but I remembered my orthopedic surgeon telling me NOT to take ibuprofen because it slows bone healing. ARGH! I've tried aspirin and non-aspirin products and nothing works for me like ibuprofen. I've been determined to NOT take any more Vicodin unless absolutely necessary because I am so fearful of addiction. But when you can't feel your legs because the cramps are making them numb...well, desperate times call for desperate measures. Fortunately, one Vicodin seems to have done the job. At least for now anyway.

The bright side is this is the third irritation. Things can only get better from here.

One Step Forward, Three Steps Back

2006-06-19T13:57:00.000-07:00

Friday my friend Pat and I had plans to attend a Medical Informatics Conference at Bellevue Community College. I checked the map of the campus before agreeing to attend, thinking we wouldn't have room for a wheelchair in Pat's Toyota Corolla, but the map showed a parking lot that we could use right next to the building where the conference was being held. Perfect! I've gotten a lot better using my crutches and it looked completely doable.

Because it takes me so long to shower and get ready - and because I always end up in a pool of sweat from the exertion anyway - I took a shower the night before and set my clothes out for the next morning. I was able to get up and ready in about 30 minutes, not too shabby, and I was only mildly overheated when Pat arrived to pick me up. I wanted to bring a notebook to take notes at the conference so I packed that with a bottle of water in a small backpack to take along. The extra weight of the backpack almost had me tumbling down the stairs on my way out!

We made it to campus, found great parking, and, as expected, it was a short hobble to the meeting room. We took seats in the front row and Pat found an extra chair so I could put my foot up. She even brought me coffee and a pastry. (Such a great friend!)

Everything was going really well. The speakers were amazing, the facility there is beautiful, and I was so happy to be out of the house with my good friend and doing something that exercised my brain a little. Everything changed when they announced lunch was going to be in the campus cafeteria. A quick scan of the campus map showed that it was quite a long distance from the meeting hall. Uh-oh. There is a lot of construction going on at BCC right now, so the road that normally goes around the outer perimeter - the road that would have taken us right up to the cafeteria - was shut down. The only option was to hoof it. I had been on a "glass-is-half-full" roll for days and summoned all of my positive power as we headed out. I had to stop at least a half-dozen times along the journey. Sometimes to catch my breath. Sometimes to give my arms or "my good leg" a rest. Some of the staff offered to help - they called Security to find a wheelchair but were told there weren't any available. We were the last one's to make it to the cafeteria and I was absolutely drowning in sweat. Nonetheless, we enjoyed a very nice lunch (which Pat graciously carried for me).

The trek back took even longer - even more rest stops. I was exhausted and not at all sure I was going to make it back. At one point I joked about just dropping to the ground and ROLLING my way back to the meeting room. Just as we rounded the corner and the building - our destination - was in sight, a torrential downpour of rain appeared out of nowhere. Pat and I scurried under a tree where we managed to protect ourselves from the bulk of the deluge. Random raindrops would pelt us as the wind shifted, but mostly we just huddled under the tree giggling until it passed over. Then we hobbled back into the building where I was once again completely covered in sweat. We enjoyed the rest of the conference and headed for home.

On the drive home we got stuck in some horrible traffic. I was losing my last shreds of energy rapidly. I couldn't wait to get home and lie down. By 4:30 that afternoon I was tucked into my covers and slept for a solid hour before I had to get up to greet dinner guests. But the rest of the night I fought off the urge to sleep.

Have you ever been so tired that you CAN'T sleep? I can remember my kids being so overtired that they just cried and cried rather than go to sleep. That's how I felt all night Friday - and the bulk of Saturday too. Saturday night I broke down and took a Valium to help me sleep better, but Sunday I still didn't feel well-rested. In fact, today I am having a hard time doing much of anything. And while my foot hasn't really "hurt" much lately, today I can honestly stay the aching has returned. I'm doing my best to not take the Vicodin though. So I'm staying in the supine position as much as possible today - with my foot back on the usual stack of 3 or 4 pillows.

It's the last day of school for my kids. I have always had fresh baked cookies ready for them when they get home - our own little traditional way of kicking off the summer. But not this time. No cookies. No anything for that matter, since I'm essentially a prisoner to the pillows today. And something tells me that if I don't get a really good nights' sleep soon, the depression of week 3 will rear its ugly head again.

Patients Using Blogs to Track Recovery

2006-06-14T10:05:00.000-07:00

An article in the San Francisco Chronicle today states that more and more patients are using blogs as a way of keeping their friends and loved ones informed about their health and to share treatment experiences with other patients. If you want to read the entire article, click here.

This is certainly my case! I only wish I had known about blogs back in 1997 (if they even existed then) when my husband was going through kidney failure and a subsequent kidney/pancreas transplant. I used to send out regular emails to a list of friends and family members to keep them in the loop.

I appreciate you - my friends - who are checking in one me via this blog every day. It's nice to know you're out there thinking about me. :0)

To Speak Up, or Not To Speak Up...

2006-06-13T21:38:00.000-07:00

I spent my morning on conference calls, and then my best friend of 33 years picked me up and took me to see a movie - "The Break Up." (Great movie, by the way!) We caught the early matinee, got there in plenty of time for me to hobble into the theater on my crutches while my pal carried 2 large sodas and a bag of popcorn. We were the first people there so we picked the row with a metal railing in front of it - perfect for putting my leg up to rest. I only had to go up 2 small steps and then slide sideways a little bit. The seats were a little left of the center of the theater but it was fine. Soon enough we were joined by a small spattering of other movie fans, spread out all around the theater.

A few minutes after the movie started a group of 3 older women and 3 or 4 kids came into the theater. They had literally hundreds of seats to choose from, but there must have been a stinkin' neon light flashing "pick me, pick me" because they took the seats directly behind my friend and I. No Way, I thought. They were chatting with each other. I took a deep breath and hoped they would settle in quickly. Next came the crackling of whatever snack bags they were trying to open up. Crackle, crackle. Crackle, crackle. That little voice inside my head was getting pretty worked up. Throughout the movie they would talk to each other. Not whisper - TALK. All 6 or 7 of them, chatting with each other. At one point in the movie, the characters were singing a song together and, I kid you not, the group behind us chimed in singing right along with them! That little voice in my head kept saying, There are hundreds of other seats in here...

While I shot a few evil glares over my shoulder a few times, I never did say anything to these people. If I hadn't been handicapped, I would have moved myself away from them. In hindsight, I probably should have done that, though it's tough maneuvering through those thin aisles with crutches. I really should have just asked THEM to move. I'm such a PLEASER!

Last week another friend of mine told me a story about how she got out of her car to yell at someone who was being inconsiderate in the school parking lot. I hailed her a hero for being so brave. (If you want to read her post about this you can visit her blog entitled "School Drop-off Rant" here.) I'm not sure I have it in me to be so bold, but I'd sure like to learn how!

Cleanliness is Next to Godliness...

2006-06-12T21:18:00.000-07:00

...but that is so much easier said than done when you're dealing with a broken ankle! First, I'm not allowed to get my cast wet, so it has to be wrapped in a plastic garbage bag and then sealed shut with special plastic water-proof tape. To take a shower, I have to back myself into the shower with my crutches, hop over the lip of the shower stall, and then back myself into a folding chair that I have set up inside the shower. I then lean forward and set my crutches up outside the shower door. Once I'm done, I drag a towel inside the stall with me, towel off as best I can sitting down, then reach outside of the stall and put the towel over the top of the toilet seat. I have to use the crutches to help me hop back over the lip of the shower stall and then back myself on to the towel on the toilet seat to finish drying off. To get dressed, I pull my undies and pants up as far as I can sitting down, putting them on over my big bulky cast first, and then I have to push off the toilet to a stand so that I can pull them up the rest of the way - standing on the good leg. To brush my teeth or blow dry my hair, I rest my right knee on the corner of the sink for balance while standing on my "good leg." By the time I have maneuvered myself through this little ritual, I am usually drenched in sweat and exhausted. The simple things we take for granted.

Tonight I desperately wanted to soak in a warm bath and read a book. To do that, I had to lay my crutch across the top of the bathtub so that I had a support for my leg. Once again, I wrapped the right leg in a garbage bag, sealed with the special plastic water-proof tape. I sat on the edge of the tub and lowered my good leg down into the tub, then lifted my bad leg from the side and set it on the crutch. It's actually moderately comfortable - better than you might think. But after a while, you start to cramp up. Getting out of the tub is a little trickier because I can't reach to pull the plug on the drain with my leg elevated, so I am trying to maneuver myself around with the tub still full of water and slippery. Sometimes - like tonight - I can pull myself up and sit on the edge of the tub to dry off. Other times - like last week - I have to call for my husband to help me. I feel like a toddler. A helpless toddler. Again - the simple little things we take for granted.

The slightest little effort takes so much energy. I scanned the Internet for statistics on how many calories my healing must be requiring. I didn't find anything. I would be surprised if I haven't lost some weight in the past 4 weeks since I have very little appetite, it's difficult for me to get up and fix myself a snack if I'm hungry, and every bit of movement requires so much effort. I do feel a whole lot weaker than I did before the accident. I also find that I don't sleep as well at night - probably because I do so much lying around during the day. Sometimes it's hard to get comfortable in bed at night. Sometimes my foot throbs and I get that antsy feeling because I can't get comfortable. If I go for a few days without good sleep, I will break down and take a Valium (which they gave me right after surgery). That often helps, but I certainly don't want to become dependent on them to sleep.

I guess antsy is a good way to describe how I feel about everything right now. My mind is clear enough now that I am off my medications that I WANT to be doing more - but my body still won't allow it. I'm looking forward to the next milestone - cast removal on July 6th. That's the light at the end of the tunnel right now.

In the meantime, at least I'm clean!

What a Difference a Day Makes!

2006-06-11T17:11:00.000-07:00

The fog has lifted and I am feeling much more positive about life in general. Yesterday I attended a graduation party for my neighbor's daughter. Most of our friends were there and it was really great to just get out of the house and enjoy the company of some good friends. Earlier in the morning my wonderful neighbor brought me a wheelchair that he bought at a garage sale that morning. He actually bought 2 of them and then built the best one using parts from each. When his wife delivered it she said he told her, "We need to get her out of that house!" So sweet. There is nothing like the love of good friends to lighten your mood.

Today we met friends for coffee and then took our daughter and her friend to see the new Pixar movie "Cars." I highly recommend it. Typical of other Pixar movies, it is a movie that kids will love for the animation and characters, but parents will relate to because of the inside jokes. Very uplifting theme about the value of friends and working together.

So, all in all, the weekend started with a downer mood but will end on an up beat. The leg is thumping from all of the activity, but I intend to spend the rest of my evening with it elevated on my stack of pillows, reading a good book.

Struggling at week 3

2006-06-09T23:54:00.000-07:00

I remember when my husband underwent major surgery (a kidney/pancreas transplant in 1997), the nurses told me that day 3 was usually the worst postop. There must be something about the number 3. I am 3 WEEKS post injury and I am struggling mentally. Three-plus weeks ago I suffered a trimalleolar fracture of my ankle while trying to board a plane out of Seattle. I was on my way to Washington DC on business, but my husband was going to meet me in DC 5 days later so we could embark on a 2-week vacation to London and Scotland together. We had tickets to see Eric Clapton at the Royal Albert Hall. Who would have thought that a simple slip on the jetway would cause so much trouble.

The first week, I was dealing with the pain of the injury. I was also bombarded with love from friends and families - flowers, balloons, teddy bears, and cards. I underwent surgery 5 days after the injury and that kept things interesting for a while. But now, 2+ weeks later, the lack of exercise and lack of fresh air is starting to get to me. I have ventured out of the house a couple of times - a 3-hour trip to lunch and Target last weekend, a brief trip to the pharmacy and out to lunch earlier this week. But I find that the excursions, while uplifting mentally, completely drain me of my energy. I can usually count on a day in bed recovering after an outing of any duration.

For the past few days I have found it more and more difficult to be productive. I am teaching an online class this quarter and have been able to continue working. The first 2 weeks I would wake up and attack my work with enthusiasm, grateful for something to occupy my mind. But this week has been entirely different. I am spending more and more time staring at the TV - or checking email without responding. I don't want to answer the phone when it rings. Getting up and hobbling to the living room with my crutches is more work than I want to deal with. This feels like familiar shades of depression starting to take its toll. I am hoping that by writing this all down, I will begin to turn things around.

Tomorrow is a graduation party for my neighbor's daughter. A lot of our friends will be there, and I am really looking forward to feeling like a normal person. It will be so nice to visit with friends outside of my own 4 walls! Perhaps writing this down tonight and spending the afternoon with friends tomorrow will make a big difference in my attitude.