Sunday Sweet Sixteen

Okay so I'm trying to get better about blogging so I'm resurrecting the Sunday Sweet Sixteen

1. I still can't run
2. The ortho wants me to get a cortisone injection.
3. The PT disagrees.
4. I still haven't made up my mind as to what I'm doing.
5. I'm about ready to say F it and go back full force.
6. Because at least if I re-injure it, they have something discrete to fix, right?
7. Right?!!
8. The team ran an 8K this morning.
9. I hate that I couldn't run it.
10. Checked out a 5K to run instead.
11. Then I had an asthma attack Saturday night.
12. Leaves are pretty. Leaf mold is toxic.
13. I am RESTLESS.
14. I think this is how people who go cold turkey off of their psych meds feel.
15. CT5K is running a 5K at the end of the month.
16. F my hip! I'm running it!

Three Strikes Law

In the meantime I’m marooned on the sofa watching the Philly bike race on DVR and whimpering at the screen the way an indoor cat does at the glass preventing him from stalking a bird outside.

By the way, did you know that Jelly Belly has an actual racing team? I guess it makes sense since they make Sport Beans. I think this is the perfect team for me, what with having a Jelly Belly being typical of a panda's physique.

Picking a date for surgery was slightly less complicated than picking a space shuttle launch date. I had mass amounts of work travel in March and another week in April, and I had to move at the end of May. Add to this that at some point I actually had to get the MRI done before I could get the insurance to approve the surgery. And we were randomly super busy at work. This should be our slow time but there were unending budget drills and congressional inquiries and TPSs had to be done. Yes, we actually have TPS reports at my job. I make the joke daily and no one ever gets it. That might be a good thing.

And it had to be early enough to where I could recover enough to be able to handle flying to LA later in the month. And it had to be before the end of June so I could burn some unused funds in my FSA. I’m getting to the point where I’m actually planning for a surgery every year when calculating how much to contribute to my FSA. Sigh.

Super friend M came up from Richmond and took care of me. Now, for a non-DC person to drive from Arlington to Reston in rush hour traffic which involves no fewer than 4 highways, is deserving of a medal in and of itself.

If you’ve read any of my other posts, you know my life is one long I love Lucy/ Seinfeld episode.

I had to have my surgery at the hospital instead of the surgery center because a special table was needed traction hip something something. Generally I prefer to have surgery at a surgical center since my experience with hospitals hasn't been great. There was the time I had a broken leg and they told me my ankle was sprained, the time I had a shoulder surgery and the nurse dropped a needle and still wanted to inject me with it, and thennnnn there was This Time.

So first we went through the “Are you pregnant?” drill:
H: Are you pregnant?

IP: No.

H: Are you sure?

IP: Yes.

H: Are you really sure?

IP: Yessssssss

H: Prove it!

IP: What?

I had to take a pregnancy blood test. Which seems like a relatively simple thing since they were already going to have to stick me and insert tubing so I could become one with the Matrix. Yeah you would think.

This particular nurse tried three separate times to try to find a vein. I directed her to where I had scars from the IV from my tonsillectomy. She … did not listen. She found a vein and shot through it. Then she tried another and something … wasn’t right. All of a sudden I hear M say, “Whatever you do, DON’T LOOK”.

Have you ever seen a campy horror movie where there’s blood shooting out of a vein after someone gets attacked by a zombie/werewolf/vampire with a chainsaw?
My arm was covered in blood. They had to give me a new blanket I was so covered with blood. Now I have strict rules on puncturingcritical systems. You get three tries to give me an IV or draw blood and you're out. Thankfully at this point she gave up and called in another nurse who got it on the first try. If I have to have surgery again, I’m just getting a port put in.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the curtain …

Another nurse is telling OR horror stories to a guy about to get a vasectomy. I could not make this up if I tried. Nurse Kramer pops in a couple times, which included an attempt to guess my age. He was on the high side by about 20 years. I am not amused. He says he was basing it on the hip surgery. Note to self: I cannot get away with not wearing makeup.

Oh and the test results come back: I'm not pregnant!

With that cleared up I shuffle off to slumberland where the forest critters fix my hip. Well, what could be fixed. More on that another time.

Moving, a race report

Being the genius that I am, I moved the weekend before I had surgery.
While I was playing Keep Toss or Donate, the Team was off racing Mountains of Misery (MOM) and the Wilderness Road Ride. Rides so difficult they make Savageman look like cake. Since my sense of masochism only goes so far, I decided not to race the world’s hardest course on a torn hip and then try to move in two days.
But it did make for a fun game of “Would you rather” with the roommate.
Me: Would you rather race Mountains of Misery in a thunderstorm or … move on the hottest days of the year?
Roommate: The race. Absolutely.

There was a bit of stress since I didn’t officially have the new apartment until about 3 days before I needed to move. I had a panicky moment full of Catholic guilt that I would not be approved for the apartment. I had some contingency plans, but it was all pretty tenuous.
Second point of stress came when the movers I’ve used the last two times were fully booked. I think this was a blessing in disguise. The movers the new apartment complex suggested were great. They were super nice and took great care of my stuff. This was key since being injured and all I was pretty limited in what I could carry and move myself. And, I wouldn’t be able to move anything if it wasn’t where I needed it.
I took Friday off to pack. Saturday the movers came. I don’t know why, but it always takes twice as long to move stuff in and it does to move stuff out. It’s bizarre.
Now I had moved six months ago from a townhouse (under some serious duress) to a tiny 2 bedroom apartment with a roommate. I still hadn’t unpacked a lot of boxes when I moved to the new place. Which has absolutely. no. storage.
There was also a certain amount of pressure because 3 days later I would be having hip surgery and wouldn’t be able to walk so everything needed to be in its place.
I quickly found out that when I moved out of the townhouse, I didn’t get ANY of my kitchenware moved.
My awesome sorority sister R came down and drove me (because my car was still packed full) to Bed, Bath, and Beyond to get basic necessities like flatware, dishes, and pots and pans. We also went all over creation trying to find a squid strip surge protector. Did they recall them? I can’t find one anywhere!
She also helped me make my bathroom handicapped accessible with a removable hand rail, fish bath tub grips, and a handheld shower head. All lessons learned from the previous surgeries.
As much stress as it was there’s something to be said for living within a 1/8th of a mile of restaurants, a grocery store, and a coffee shop for two weeks.

BTW, did you know that most people don't consider a bike to be living room furniture?

Can I get a new hip for my birthday?

So I was going to skip my birthday since it’s not a milestone and I was kind of depressed about being old and the whole being broken thing. In the end I decided like a week before to have a happy hour since I was going to be off early anyway for the MRI.

So the MRI:
I negotiated to get the MRI done in Springfield instead of out in Reston where my Dr. Is. Getting from DC to Reston can be challenging to say the least. I thought that I would have time to come home and take a nap before the happy hour. I was wrong.

My MRI was a contrast MRI, unlike my shoulder. First you go through the usual 20 Questions regarding medical history, medications, and “Are you sure you aren’t pregnant?”.
Then the usual disrobing and removing of all piercings and putting on the super awesome slipper socks. I have a collection.

Then they took a few X-rays of my femur/hip bone.

Then the actual radiologist came in. She was wearing a huge lead apron. This was not confidence inspiring.

First they inject you with a “numbing agent”. This so called numbing agent was supposed to “sting” a little. Instead it felt like someone was jamming a railroad spike into my hip and like my whole leg was on fire.

Then they continuously x-rayed my hip so they could see where to place the needle that would inject the contrast dye into my hip. Dye injected then I head off for my MRI.
I had a good hour’s worth of MRI pictures that needed to be taken. But that was nothing in comparison to the injections so it was cake. I put in the earplugs, took a nap, and channeled Snow White.

Then I put everything back on and in and headed out to the waiting room for my CD of very expensive pictures. Half an hour goes by and nothing. I go ask and apparently no one has bothered to burn the CD. I wait another half an hour and bingo, happy birthday to me!

I have to say I love looking at these kinds of things. How often do you get to see yourself inside out? I took a couple minutes to check out the CD before I left for happy hour.

Now, when they MRI’d my hip, they MRI’d BOTH hips. I can only assume for comparison’s sake. I would post pictures, but I was startled to find that when they MRI your hips, they MRI EVERYTHING in between your hips, ahem. So not only do I have beautiful full color pictures of my hips, I also have a vivisection of my reproductive organs.

So instead I give you panda birthday pictures:

Pain in the Arse

So about a month ago I needed to run 18 miles in my plan to run the Shamrock marathon.
My plan: drive up to Columbia and run the 9miler with the Howard County Striders. And run it twice so I would make my 18.

Well I got there. And lo and behold, they had canceled the 9 miler and were only having the 2 and 6 miler. Now the 6 miler would be running the 2 mile loop 3 times.

Why? Because the trails were still covered with snow.
YA THINK?!!! Yes, maybe a week after we get 28" of snow the trails won't be shoveled or clear. Certainly no one could have checked that and posted it to your website before that day.

So I would be running the 2 mile course nine. times. to make 18.

Well instead I ran one mile of a ridiculously hilly course. Like straight up straight down. Immediately I felt something happen. Something bad.

I decided discretion was the better part of valor and headed back to my car after one loop.

The best part: people cheering me on the second mile as I'm limping back to the car. I wanted to scream, I have been running all winter!! I am not out of shape! I have a thyroid thing! I can run 9 times this!
Sigh.

It became pretty clear that I had done something serious. It HURT. And it wasn't getting better, really.

I had planned to go snowboarding the following weekend, it was too late to back out, and I had already paid for my share of the house.
Let's just say that while I made some awesome strides boarding but I also spent a lot of time drinking bourbon at the bar in tears from the pain.

I finally ponied up when my toes kept going numb on the left side.
After a frustrating exchange with a rocket scientist/ receptionist I got in to see my orthopaedist.

So not a piriformis injury like I was worried about. Not IT Band. It seems to be a hamstring pull and a dislocated hip/ torn labrum.
Apparently the clicking is a telltale sign.

Why does this seem familiar? Because it's the Exact. Same. Thing. I did to my shoulder.

The good news: I technically can't make it worse.
The bad news: It won't heal on it's own either.

I'm not psyched about having surgery again. But I think I'm the most pissed that I missed out on the best snowboarding season in like 15 years to run every weekend training for a marathon that I can't run.

Freaking lame.

Saturday Morning Haikus

6am alarm
Neighbor's dog crying since 5
Wide awake for now

Planned to run at 9
Torrential rain and gale wind
Gym is looking good

Four Courts 4 miler
First race in Pacers series
Is a wash for me

Running in the rain
Don't want bronchitis again
Flying on Monday

Sunday Sweet Sixteen

Okay, I'm trying to get back to normal which includes posting.

1. I am super sick this week. A cold and bronchitis.
2. Not sure if this is related to kissing frogs.
3. Or running in sub-arctic weather.
4. Or lots of stress and travel.
5. Signing up for tons of races makes sense from the comfort of my couch
6. And pajamas.
7. Prices for Set-up Events races go up tomorrow ...
8. A supersprint the week after my marathon is reasonable, right?
9. Right?
10. I was considering the Icy 8 next week in prep for the marathon, and just for fun.
11. But now it's supposed to snow YET AGAIN.
12. I should probably start swimming soon.
13. Like a month ago.
14. I'm also considering field hockey again.
15. I can totally train for tris, row, play softball, and play field hockey, right?
16. I signed up for belly dance. Just for fun.