Since my last post (a distant memory) quite a bit has happened, as it does for everyone. Here's a catch up post before I move on to the new year starting where I left off .
Dave and I rearranged the flower bed, I transplanted some things in new spots and amped up the herb garden. We got the Milky Spore down and there was a marked decrease in the Japanese beetle population throughout the rest of the season. Sayonara suckers!
Planter boxes for the porch
In April E and I went to visit friends on the west coast.
Here's the ferry we arrived on.
We had a great visit and celebrated Easter there. I came home to a promotion at work, one which all but eliminated my having to go out and collect grocery carts! Now I get to ask other people to do that but I have a lot of respect now for the job they are doing. After all we know what a jungle it is out there. Emma was in a couple of plays in the spring which were very cool and then her Tap Recital in which she was amazing. I'm not biased at all.
In May, all other plans for the garden came to a screeching halt when I foolishly bent over to put the fitted sheet on my mattress. Apparently my spine (and the muscles around it) were not up to the task and I came up after some difficulty, the astonished and unwilling recipient of a bulging lumbar disc which had forcefully invaded the previously allotted space for my sciatic nerve which was highly offended and screaming. Surely this wasn't brought on by hours of weeding and bagging groceries day after day? Nooooo.
True to a family genetic malfunction that prevents us from seeking medical treatment until there is no alternative, I diagnosed and treated this injury myself with ice pack, heat and ibuprofen and continued to weed the garden and work (both of which required walking, bending, twisting and lifting) until the pain was constant and my left leg buckled randomly when I used it. At this point I astutely surmised I may need the intervention of a qualified physician so in mid-late June I went and she (shaking her head in disbelief) said I should not be working at all. Since my diagnosis clashed with hers (denial gene) she suggested Ice, Ibuprofen, PT and to swim if at all possible.
After a couple more weeks working, etc. (while she was on vacation) my left leg went weak then my foot numb and the hot flashing pains that radiated down my leg via my sciatic nerve intensified and I began to randomly fall down if I put my weight on it as if it were paralyzed. So much for my diagnosis and treatment plan. Ironically when PT called that week to set up my appointments I cavalierly chirped that I thought maybe I didn't really need to come, after all I was able to walk. I wasn't as bad off as some people. She almost let it go at that until I mentioned falling down in my daughter's room the day before. Since they couldn't get me in for another 2-3 weeks we decided to head up to our cabin where I could swim every day for free without chlorine.
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| Dave put in a driveway this year. Hurray! He did an awesome job, don't you think? |
Upon my doctor's return she said absolutely no work for 6 weeks unless I wanted permanent debilitating chronic back pain and gave me these nice little yellow pills called muscle relaxers. The bottle said to take them 3x per day but if I did that I'd be unconscious 24/7. The cautionary label says not to drive or operate machinery while taking these. Yeah, I'm out like a light 10 minutes after taking one of these, never mind driving. I like them.
I began PT 3 times a week, which as everyone knows who has been there stands for Physical Torture. My primary therapist was a very nice woman...until we got into the gym where she proceeded to torture me with lunges and squats and trying to get me to stand on this weird rubber ball with an outer ring like Saturn to balance on while simultaneously lifting weights. This combo in my mind could inspire an even greater back wrenching injury, but what do I know? This all took place directly in front of the un-openable picture windows with the heat of the July sun streaming in. She smiled a lot while I was doing this and wrote things on my chart. I was looking pretty.
Primary therapist expectations. |
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I hate to be harsh on my own sex but the proof is in the pudding, girls are tougher on other girls. I don't think it helped that she was pregnant at the time either. When you're pregnant you think, hey, if I can do this pregnant then by God you can too. In my defense, and having been pregnant and able to compare the two, I would argue that a baby and an acute spinal injury really are not equal. What she did do for me that I liked was traction because it took the pressure off the injury and I could always walk better afterward.
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| Secondary therapist expectations. |
My secondary therapist was a man and therefore nicer to me in the gym. He was more encouraging and ready to alter an exercise to make it easier to accomplish a goal. When we did water exercises he complimented my choice of bathing suit and my performance of the tricky little balance exercises in the pool. I know, I fell for it all. Once when I was apparently visibly tense during a weight lifting session he gave me a shoulder massage to release the muscles which I carry in a nice knot between my shoulder blades most of the time. It is very difficult to concentrate on your reps while you are receiving an unexpected massage. From then on I wished he was my primary therapist and envisioned spa like treatments such as massages with warm oil, calming music, hot tub therapy, facials and cool cucumber slices on my weary eyelids to relax me. This did not happen.
Eventually I was released from PT for limited return to work and I went back to the doctor who gave me said pass to go back to work up to 4 hours a day, every other day but not before performing her own exam of my spine (Untrusting soul) which included pressing on the priorly improved injury point and making me involuntarily drop to my knees like a repentant sinner from the searing pain. This took some days to recover from. I have not let her examine my spine again.
So, I ended up with a few weeks off from work throughout the summer, which would have been much more sweet if I had been able to do more fun things like garden more, use my kayak at the lake, ride my bike, etc. but alas, maybe next year.
Thanksgiving, Christmas and New Years Eve were all quiet and enjoyable and we were invited to a friend's house for an after Christmas get together which was very nice.
Well, I think that pretty much sums it up for 2014. I wish you all a happy, healthy and prosperous New Year!
Tonight I was working the service desk at the grocery store. During the many long and boring intervals between customers I was randomly cleaning, looking in all the drawers and cabinets to take a mental inventory, observing customers and pacing. 
As soon as my shift ended I washed my hands with the foamy hand soap in the kitchen at work. I'm not sure what I was expecting but all I succeeded in doing was adding a layer of that smell to the others. I have no words to describe the aroma which I drove home in my small car with. 
At bedtime I went into my daughter's room and she said, "God, mom, your hands stink, go out!" Shunned and contemplating a night without sleep as the stench would surely follow me (I like to have my hands up near my pillow), I finally reached for the baking soda. I have scrubbed with that twice and it abated it slightly but it is still there. I only pray it will diminish further with a couple more baking soda treatments. Perhaps I should wear my gloves to bed tonight in the name of sleep for all concerned? Who knew lotion could be so lasting? And the worst part is...my hands are super dry after all this washing and scrubbing and I'm afraid to put anything else on them!
