I am no longer entertained by this situation

Nope, not at all. My parents left for their trip* on Thursday at noon, so I’ve been on my own since then. I have a ton of food stashed in my fridge, but the little things (like bringing coffee to the couch!) are a wee bit more challenging on my own than they were while I was being waited on.

On Wednesday I went to an Actual Real Pilates Class with my mom at her gym. Um,this was hard. Very hard. The good news was I could actually do/attempt to do almost everything, since it was a mat class. It was hard because it’s all abs and core. Because it’s a Small Town I saw three more moms of friends from high school (different from the original three moms from last week).

After the class I got to do the second Big Reveal…no more bandage day! So of course, I took photos in the handicapped shower.

For the past two weeks every time I took a shower I’d been using a professional “cast cover” (even though I didn’t get a cast, I was supposed to keep it from getting wet). I didn’t trust the professional cast cover (I don’t trust) so I slapped some duck tape on there just to be sure. Then I’d hobble into my mom’s bathroom shower and use the shower chair (sexy) borrowed from the neighbors.

Professionally Wraped

While this was effective, it was also a royal pain in the booty, so I was happy to be done with it.

And as we know, I like icky gross wounds, so I was excited to unwrap the leg.

Are you excited?

Goodbye bandage!

Unwrapping

Exposed...more bruising then last week!

After the shower expedition (and accosting my dear friend Ben’s mom in the locker room – if she didn’t already know I was crazy, she would’a known then) we headed home so my mom could finish packing for her trip. While she packed, I earned my keep.

I do not recommend this

Then we (heh) packed the car and headed back to NoVA. My dad followed separately several hours later with the pooch. (Craftily, this also got him out of having to unpack my car.)

We stopped once more at the grocery store (really, does it seem like all we’ve done is go to the store? Partly it’s been so I could try the wheelie carts, but this time it was to stock my fridge). Giant did not disappoint. They are owned by the same corporation that owns Martin’s, so unsurprisingly, the wheelie cart there was also fab. What did surprise was that we had to ask for it; they keep it hidden so people don’t take off with them (?). I also got to drive it out to the parking lot, and a cart attendant then came and picked it up. Two thumbs up for Giant!

Loving the Giant. Except: See that cottage cheese in the front? Expiration date of 1/9 being sold on 1/25. Not cool, Giant. Not cool.

On Thursday morning before my parents left*, my mom and I headed to one last store: Trader Joe’s. Well. Let me just tell you: WALMART HAS BEEN UNSEATED! The Trader Joe’s wheelie experience was like no other. The cart was waiting when we entered the store. It had the horesepower of the Martin’s cart and the turning radius of the Walmart cart. The aisles were wide, and the credit card reader rotated so I could use it. And at 8 a.m. in Clarendon, the store was very empty.

Why yes, I am wearing the same outfit as last night. Shut up.

I told the checkout guy they’d unseated Walmart and for a moment he thought I was a mystery shopper. He also offered to carry our bags out to the car, until I told him I’d have to take his picture for the blog. Then he got scared. Silly guy. We should have purchased flowers, too, just to make use of the optional flower caddy. (I had a picture of the flower caddy, but apparently I deleted it and deemed it unworthy. Sorry, flower caddy.)

We returned home, and I practiced crutching out to the courtyard with the dog, just to see if I could do it (I could. This way she can pee.) My parents took off* on their trip, and Miss Turkey and I were On Our Own.

Within an hour of their departure, I had my first visitor. The flower man! He redelivered my mystery flowers, which I’d discovered were from Ray’s Mom, so I was expecting his arrival. I was so excited about getting them. Flower Man did not appear particularly excited about Miss Turkey, and tried to hand me the basket. I indicated that he’d need to actually come inside. He then asked if he could just put them on the floor inside the door. Dude. No. Not on the floor. Come inside and put them on the table.

(Ironically, when I later wanted to photograph said flowers, where did I need them to be?)

Pretty!

The flowers also came with a balloon.

Thanks, Linda and Don!!!

In other good news, Solha’s parents-to-be very quickly raised all of the money needed to help bring her to the US. She may actually be on her way very shortly, beating Jake home! If you clicked over, thank you! If you didn’t, click now so you can see how cute she is for yourself!

*abandoned me

Worldwide Dogs

It’s no big secret that I love dogs. Turkey, of course, but also random dogs. Especially homeless dogs (or more accurately, “Dogs Seeking Homes.” When I was in b-school I had a line on my resume under “interests” about “walking homeless dogs” and they made me change it to “walking shelter dogs” because the Career Center thought the former was “misleading.” Still puzzled about that one, but ok. I changed it.)

My dog, is of course, legendary for her Turkey-like howls. I’d never considered videotaping her, but after the Ravens’ meltdown on Sunday, she couldn’t hold it in anymore.

Anyway. I adopted my doggy from a no-kill rescue in Raleigh – she’d been rescued from rural backwoods shelter in Rocky Mount where she would’ve met death – back in December 2008. She was a mess. Heartworm positive, too skinny, and afraid of anything that made a sound. The amazing veterinary students at NC State Veterinary School treated her for heartworm, and thankfully she made a full recovery. I took care of fattening her up and tried to socialize her so she’d become less frightened of things she found scary (e.g., aluminum foil, men in hoodies, other dogs, and vacuums. Doing well on the first three, not so much on the last).

Last summer, I began reading the tales of the Turkey-Opposite, Solha, which means “peace” in Dari. Solha is a bad-ass dog who lives in Afghanistan. I read and adore Solha’s owner (Jake’s) wife’s blog, Rurally Screwed; it is funny and well-written and I heartily recommend. (Ok, technically maybe Jake is Solha’s “caretaker” right now, since she’s an Afghani dog, but he has known, loved, and cared for her since last July, and “caretaker” seems a little much yuppie/hippie for me.)

Solha has about 47 lives: since July she has been bitten by a poisonous snake, escaped into the Afghan wild with feral dogs about 3 times (and always returned), and several other incidents I no longer recall. But she’s sweet, looks a lot like Miss Turkey, and from my reading of it, has brought tremendous comfort and strength to a man who, to serve this country, sacrificed, upheld his commitment, and left his wife and newborn baby for 18 months. (Did you know an “Army year” is 18 months? I did not. It is.) In the near term of his departure, both of their family dogs died. This pissed me off, and added insult to injury and depth to their heartache.

Why am I writing about some lady’s dog who I don’t even know? (either the lady, or the dog). I’ll tell you why: ‘Cause 1) I love dogs. Duh. I thought we’d already established that. Do you read? 2) Both of Jake and Jessie’s family dogs died in a very short span of time, both quite tragically (I cannot bring myself to search for those posts. Heartbreaking). 3) Through an organization called Nowzad, they are working to bring Solha back to Virginia to be their dog when Jake returns from deployment (can I get a “HELL YEAH??!”).

This is not as easy as it might seem. For one, as we all know, Afghanistan has been ravaged by multiple wars, and infrastructure is minimal at best. Yet it is also not as uncommon as you might think. And to points above, the love of a dog is very special, and gets you through some terrible times, be it loneliness (check) or depression (check) or the separation from a loved one during war (I’m venturing a guess on this one, but I’m gonna say “check”).

Yeah, kids, I’m a fundraiser. I became a fundraiser for “real” after I started with Team in Training and all this Ironman ridiculousness and had the realization that when you’re passionate about something, fundraising is not work at all. Outside of work, you’ve all helped me raise almost $50,000 for causes I care deeply about. (Inside of work I think I’m over about $7.5 million, but that shit’s just bragging.)

So, please take a minute to click over to Jessie’s blog, read about Solha and her adventures (as well as Adventures in Rural Virginia Living, of which there are many), and consider donating anything to help Bring Solha Home!

When she arrives in VA this summer, I hope Miss Turkey and Solha might have a playdate (since I quit the “Walgreens” gig I know the Bo playdate ain’t ever gonna happen).

Isn't Solha amazing? Photo respectfully borrowed/stolen from Jessie's blog, Rurally Screwed, but credited (and linked to) right now. Please go visit!

Sponsored by Sandisk and Other Important Things

Wow, people. I have my first corporate sponsor! Arriving all the way from California, and shipped with love from my dear friends Minnie and Jon, my recovery is now sponsored by Sandisk.

Minnie can relate to the crutches business, having spent several months out – and housebound! – after fracturing her pelvis on a ride in 2006. Jon can relate because he’s awesome, and because I taught that bad boy how to swim and then he did an Ironman.

Brought to you by Sandisk! (and the US Postal Service)

This poor package took the pony express to get across the USA. Shipped from NorCal on 1/11 it arrived only today – my dad went to the tiny post office in McGaheysville (population 756) (McGaheysville, not the post office) and the postmaster lady (postmistress?) was able to dig it up. It had only just arrived, leading me to believe it was shipped by mule. Or in a Pinto.

I also received a mystery delivery yesterday, of a gorgeous and tasty-looking gift basket.

Still life with snacks. Thanks, Whitney!

Amazon has stopped putting gift notes in their packages (apparently), so I had to put out the Facebook call to figure out who it was from. Whitney! Who thoughtfully found one with only almonds, so I can eat it. Though I’m keeping it all sealed til I return to NoVA, lest it be eaten by my parents.

Today I crutched 3/4 mile at the “track.” Sadly, though, today is also the last day I will be track-crutching, because tomorrow I’m going back to NoVA and being abandoned by my servants…err, parents. There is a lovely track near my apartment (real red track, with lines) but without being able to drive, I will not be able to get there. Sadly at the track is also the pool (ot that I even know when I’m going to be cleared to swim).

Why yes, we do bribe Turkey to exercise

After the intensive track workout, I had to go home and take a nap (no kidding). Then we headed into town as Miss Turkey had an appointment at the vet. Back in December, when she was out playing with a neighborhood dog pal, I found a suspicious lump on her back. I took her in to the vet the next day, and they aspirated it and sent it off for cytology. They reported back that it was “inflammatory cells” and not cancer, and everyone in Turkey-land was very relieved.

Well. Since mid-December that lump has almost doubled in size, and she’s sprouted a new, second one on the opposite side of her spine, in almost the same place. So I wanted to get her checked out. We took her in to Dr. Vicky, who I worked for when I was a wee lass (ok, a freshman in college. Still wish I would’ve switched majors, done hard science and become a vet! Then I could’ve even used all those free organic textbooks). Dr. Vicky read the lab report, and aspirated the new lump. She is pretty certain the new one is just a fatty lipoma (speaking of fatty, Miss Turkey weighed in at 35 lbs. Someone was into the Christmas cookies a bit much). She also re-aspirated the original lump (twice. That makes three needle sticks in the backside. But Brave Dog did not cry or squeal once, which is a record).

Please don't stick me again!

Because the original lump has been growing so quickly, we decided the best course of action would be to remove it, before it gets any bigger. This will also allow them (her husband is also a vet, and he’s the one who hired me oh-so-long ago. I won’t say the year because it makes me feel too freaking old) to determine for sure what the lump is.

Soooo my poor baby is scheduled for surgery of her own on February 7. While she’s under they will also clean her teeth, snip a baby tumor on her eyelid (she’s had it forever and they’re very common) and clip her nails. Hopefully this will all be nothing. I am just very sad that I won’t be here for it (unless I convince my parents to bring be back here after their trip, since I’ll be working from home that whole week anyway I could do it from here!). She will most likely have to wear a lampshade, which you can be sure will lead to many fun photos.

No idea what I'm in for, but I better get some salmon as a reward for enduring all these needles!

 

Remembering Betsy

Today would have been my aunt Betsy’s 58th birthday. It is the second birthday since she died (11/14/10) and I still miss her just as much.

She would absolutely KILL ME DEAD if she knew I put this on the internet. But she's so happy, it makes me smile.

We were 20 years apart in age, which sometimes made her feel more like my sister than an aunt. When I was in college she WAS that big sister, coming to visit me for Parents’ Weekend when my parents couldn’t, and inviting me to her house in Marblehead for Christmas parties, Easter brunches, and random weekends I just needed to get the heck out of Swellesley (even before I had a car, which meant making the 70-mile roundtrip drive twice in one weekend). After college, she served as the built-in handyman, driving to Boston to help me hang photos, and bringing me plants and home-cooked meals. And if you ever wanted a card full of random sparkly confetti that will get all over your house and in your hair and clothes? She had some for every season, and reason, imaginable.

We completed the Harrisonburg Wheelie Visitation Program today (do I get a Girl Scout badge?) with a stop at Walmart. Well. Let me tell you. Walmart was full-service. First, the wheelies were out with the carts, and underneath a HEAT LAMP, so the seat was warm when I got in (I spot-checked another wheelie just to make sure it wasn’t just, ahem, my seat). Then, as we entered the store, the Greeter offered to take my crutches and keep them while we shopped, so my mom wouldn’t have to carry them, and we wouldn’t have to put them in the cart. I was a bit skeptical (what if someone ran off with them?) but he assured us it was fine.

Way to Go, Walmart!

The power and pickup was not quite as great as the Martin’s wheelie, but the turning radius? Oh my. As the cart attendant said when we left, “you can turn on a dime and have nine cents left!” Most items on the shelf were easily accessible, except for the very top shelf. The only downside was the reverse motion; like the others there was a “beep-beep,” but unlike the others, it kept moving backwards when you took your finger off the lever! Not so safe. You needed to plan far in advance for the reversing.

When we got to the checkout line, I was pleased to see that the credit card reader was actually rotatable, so that I could turn it downwards and reach it myself. We then swung back by the Greeter, who had, as promised, guarded my crutches. Then I tried to parallel park the sucker. Didn’t work too well. I was determined to get it in the spot (that’s what she said) but a lady came over and needed the cart, so I wheeled it out and gave it to her.

So, here’s how the ratings broke down (I think we’re all out of stores now):

• Overall: Walmart, Martin’s, Costco, Target
• Accessibility (of products, aisle width, etc): Walmart, Martin’s, Costco, Target. Target so bad I would be unable to shop there if actually permanently disabled.
• Customer Service: Walmart, Martin’s, Costco, Target
• Horsepower: Martin’s, Walmart, Costco, Target
• Turning Radius: Walmart, Martin’s, Costco. Target again so bad I don’t want to rate it.
• Flag for visibility: Costco (only one)
• Let me take to parking lot, even though “illegal”: Costco, Martin’s, Walmart (only did for Costco, but the others offered)

Surprising results, given my love for all-things Target and my usual disdain for Walmart!

GO NINERS!!!!

Deeper and More Abiding Respect for People with Disabilities

Well, I can tell my posts are gonna be pretty boring til I am on my own and trying to survive/not tear my wound next week. ‘Cause not much happened today that was any different than the preceding eight days. For my “outing of the day” we did manage to make it to Target and to Martin’s (grocery store), and sure enough, they had wheelie carts.

The Target cart was terrible – perhaps it wasn’t fully charged, but my mom could walk faster than I could drive. The turning radius was terrible, and I kept knocking things over (including a clothes rack. Not pretty.) Also, the aisles at Target (at least this one) are not big enough for both a wheelie cart and a regular shopping cart to pass one another. Not to mention that 3/4 of the things you might like to see are absolutely out of your reach. They’re pretty much assuming that if you come to the store and want to use a wheelie, you have someone with you who can also assist you. This might be a correct assumption, and I’m sure our dear friends at Target have done research into this, but it was a new realization for me. Like I would never have clothes from Target again, because I can’t get through the aisles without knocking over the racks and running over clothes. And there was a lot of good stuff on sale, too.

I had a thirst for Arbor Mist

From Target we went on to Martin’s (massively large grocery store. This place is easily 10x the size of the teensy grocery store both my brother and I worked in back in high school, and which sadly went out of business when I left for college. Total coincidence.)(and as this was Before the Internet was Available to the Public there is nothing relevant to which I might link. Every “Mick-or-Mack” Google takes me to somebody’s obituary.) Anyway. Martin’s was 1000x better for a number of reasons. Wide aisles. Nice people. Surprisingly, way more things at eye level or within relative reach. And the horsepower and training radius of this wheelie? Wow. The best of the three so far.

So very sad to be in the candy aisle...I am committed to "No Candy til No Crutches." It just gives me sad face (and my leg was hurting)

As we left Martin’s, my mom and I realized that now we MUST go to Walmart (though I generally try to avoid the place…sorry to all my b-school friends in Bentonville) to test out their ride sometime over the next few days. Then I think we may be clear out of places to try. Though I hear Whole Foods has them, so once I’m back in Whole Foods territory, I am going for a ride.

Seriously, though. My grandma had Multiple Sclerosis for over 50 years and was in a wheelchair-bound for most of those (and my entire 30-year memory of her). She was fortunate because she had my dad to help modify things around the house for her, and do the shopping for her, and aides who came daily to help her get dressed, and as she got older, Meals-on-Wheels to bring her a hot lunch every day. But I can only vaguely imagine how much more intensely complicated life becomes when you are in one of these things all of the time, and how utterly dependent you are on others to help get you through even the simplest of things you used to have independence around. Have I said lately how lucky I am that this is only temporary?

300 dips, no pushups, and we forgot to do Pilates.

PS – I’m off the drugs (‘cept Tylenol). Not quite as funny. Sorry.

PPS – Still no books. Thumbs up: The Adjustment Bureau. Thumbs-oh-so-predictable: Friends with Benefits.

Speed Work

Today I limbered up* and headed** to the local track***, where I proceeded to crutch ONE HALF MILE! Woo! I had to take a few breaks, but I was bound and determined to make it two laps. (*got out of jammies at 3:30 p.m., after watching DVR of Thursday’s episodes of 30 Rock and Ellen; Wednesday’s Law & Order: SVU with special guest star Harry Connick, Jr.; and Oprah’s finale from last May)(**was driven)(***nearby area of asphalt that is 1/4 mile in circumference. I was expecting a red rubber surface and white lane lines)

Track...note wild creature way far in front of me

Wild creature on the other side of the track...embarrassed to be wearing her horse blanket/ dog coat

What with my taxing morning and all we didn’t make it to Target, Martin’s or Walmart to check out their wheelie carts, but there is “bad weather” in the forecast, so those places would’ve been mobbed anyway. I’ve just been informed by my mother that I will be doing (mat) Pilates with her tomorrow, so perhaps the additional wheelie carts will happen on Sunday.

You know your parents are retired when they utter things like “ever since NBC took over The Weather Channel, it’s all gone downhill.” And when you counter this statement, the response is “no, it’s not just us, you should see the blogs!”

Today I also did 50 (girl) pushups and my dear old friend Katie (who knows dear old friend Dr. Keith!) came over for dinner. When the “winter storm” mix began falling, we pushed her out into it so she could make it home safely. ‘Night!

Wheelies at Costco

Today was “errands day.” My mom went to the gym and I tagged along…only she went to a class and I sat there, read a book, and talked to moms of my high school friends (3 in an hour, not bad). Turns out my mom had unknowingly befriended a friend’s mom in Zumba, without either of them ever realizing they knew each other 20 years ago!

Then we went to the local farmer’s market, and looked for a parking space so we could have lunch.

Sign says "do not park next to horses"

Next, though, was the highlight of my week: the wheelie cart at Costco! This had not even occurred to me, but thankfully, it had to my mom. Please note foot on cart *AND* the flag on the back. Best part: cart beeped when it backed up. Tomorrow we’ll be visiting Target, Walmart and Martin’s to check out their carts.

Costco!

The Big Reveal

Today was the big reveal…I went to Dr. Awesome Doc for him to look at the wound and change the dressing. But the drive there was 2 hrs plus so we had to leave at 8 am. On the way we drove through several snow squalls.

Also on the drive, my dad informed me that I had linked to the wrong book (he started writing texts in 1979 and there are about 22 versions so excuuuuse me) (I also have a copy of the text in Korean so if you’d like to practice organic chemistry in Korean, let me know and I’ll hook you up.). Here, as proof, is me in the textbook, page 792, chapter on Carbonic Acid. (Carbonic Acid and Lactic Acid have something to do with one another. What, exactly, I can’t tell you, as I was an english major. Please see page 792.)

We got to the doctor’s office with no drama – except the parking garage robbed us blind, $13 for part of an hour! I’d made Wanda the Surgical Coordinator banana bread last night, to thank her for all the time she’s spent with my insurance so far. I think I’ve finally won her over.

Then it was time for the big reveal…Dr. Awesome Doc* removed the bandages, and……voila!

(Graphic Photo ahead, but not as graphic as it’s gonna get in a few. You were warned.)

Bad Ass Scars

*Dr. Awesome Doc further proved his awesomeness when I asked if I could photograph this, and he took my phone from me to “get a better angle.”

He then went on to tell me how because the interior damage was better than expected, he closed the wound with steri-strips, which are basically stitches that will disintegrate on their own (He also pointed out that they are “made by 3M, the same people who make Post-It notes!” I am sure 3M appreciates the additional plug). After another week, I can take the bandages off (still on crutches) and take showers without the giant cast cover on it. Woo!

Then the real magic began. While he was operating last week, Dr. Awesome Doc took photos (not with my phone. I was asleep and phone was in car, remember? So I presume with his own camera or something). Which he then proceeded to show me during our visit yesterday, explain to me and then email my way.

Warning! Warning! Warning! If you are squeamish and/or eating breakfast and/or chicken (eating chicken or just generally you are a chicken), you may wish to finish what you are doing and return at a later time.

How freaking cool is this? It’s me. I’m sleeping peacefully. This is my right ankle, cut open for all to see.

MFF

More foot. Should I feel naked?

There were a few more pics, but even I realize they may begin to feel redundant. We left the doctor’s office, had a lovely lunch from the bagel shop by my house, checked my mail and headed home. 250 miles RT for a 20 minute appointment. Oh well. The photos and making Wanda happy were worth it.

So, the good news is that I can take a shower next Wednesday, and I don’t have another doctor’s appt til February 13, when I go back to work. The bad news is that my time on crutches is not at all reduced by me not having a cast. Boo, hiss, boo.

Additional good news: I did 202 228 dips today (all going up and down my parents’ stairs), plus 35 (girl) pushups AND I crutched an honest 1/4 mile.

More bad news: I have not read one single book of that stack of 22 (I do, however, heartily recommend you watch both “Ides of March” and “Moneyball”); the DC Library is insisting I still have a book and dvd I returned last week; and I just remembered I have a “coaching call” (what I refer to as “Ladies Leadership” from a leadership course I was selected to attend this past fall) tomorrow at 9:30 a.m. I have already put it off twice so there is absolutely no way I can get out of it again. Oops. But I do need to pretend to be prepared. Going to bed at 1:46 a.m. is probably not a good way to do this.

Flowers from Strangers

I forgot to post about my stranger flowers, back from Thursday night. Before I got home from work on Thursday, my parents were out taking Turkey on her long walk, and passed a lady with some beautiful flowers. My mom asked her where she’d gotten them, as she’d been thinking that getting me some flowers might be nice. The lady replied that they were from a guy set up outside of Farragut North. My mom told her that she was hoping to get flowers for me, since I was having tendon surgery the next day.

What happens next does not ever happen in NoVA.

The lady gave the flowers to my mom and INSISTED she take them for me, saying, “I’ll be back downtown tomorrow and will get more then.” She wouldn’t let my mom give her money for them, either.

So, thank you Nice Lady of Arlington who gave me the pretty flowers!

Flowers commuted to Arlington, then rode to my parents' in a Big Gulp cup

“You look like Bill Belichick”

That was my dad, to me, Sunday during the football games. I am pretty sure that was not a compliment. He tried to explain himself by saying it was due to my affinity, like Belichick’s, for gray hooded sweatshirts.

I didn’t realize how completely boring my life would be to write about once I got through the surgery and immediate aftermath. From Saturday night I slept 12 hours, which meant I woke up finally feeling like a human being. I did set the alarm for 3:45 a.m. for the mid-night Vicodin, but I rolled over, swallowed the pill, and was back asleep in 30 seconds. After I woke up I watched both big football games. I also decided I was “ready to go on a walk.”

Because my parents live in the woods, at the base of a mountain, it is very hilly. I convinced my mom to drive down to a “flat” part of their neighborhood so I could try to walk with her and the dog. I think she actually wanted to exercise (my mom, not the dog – if you know Turkey you know how lazy she is), so she wasn’t too thrilled, but she agreed anyway.

We drove to the flat road, where I proceeded to crutch about 100 yards. I’d like to think it was at least 1/4 mile…but I know it wasn’t. Then the road proceeded to go steeply up (never noticed that before) so I figured it was probably best to go back before I fell over.

Walking companions - can you tell this is a huge hill?

They kept on walking, and I played Words with Friends back in the car.

Look how far I walked!