The Luckiest

"I don't get many things right the first time, 

In fact, I am told that a lot,

Now I know all the wrong turns

The stumbles and falls brought me here...

Now I see it everyday,

That I am the luckiest." -Ben Folds

Sorry, I have been late of posting. This weekend was one of those moments, that everyone needs from life. A reminder from the universe that you are loved and that you matter. Especially for us perpetually single people, you can feel beat down believing love is something that you can never obtain. However, this weekend served as an example for me.  While, I may have not found the one, and perhaps I may never find him, I am not lacking in love. 

I turned 33 this weekend, and while I didn't do anything spectacular or crazy, I still got a chance to be around friends and family. This is my favorite time of year, regardless of the fact that it was my birthday, and just being able to be outdoors and surrounded by laughter while you drink a cold beer, helped me feel better. Especially after being inside for so long from ACL surgery.

I try so hard to struggle through my troubles without complaint. The long work hours, the long school hours, the lack of pay, etc. But even though I am a confident person, I still struggle. I struggle with the feeling of never being good enough for a man to love. I struggle to lose weight, any weight. I struggle to find a job that satisfies me and pays the bills. I struggle to find my purpose in this world. I so often go to bed feeling like a failure, even though I have worked so hard. 

But this weekend uplifted me in so many ways. The fact that my wall was flooded on Facebook, the numerous text messages and voice mails left on my phone, or the friends just showing up to buy me a drink, helped me to see that my life is so blessed in so many ways. I may still struggle and continue to fight the loneliness in my heart, but I am still loved.

It is silly that such a thing as cold beers out on a patio enjoying nice weather on Saturday night, could bring me to tears, but it does. I have so many people in my life that have remained by my side despite my setbacks and my mistakes. People who love me because of me, not because of my weight, my job, or my martial status.

I think we all need those days. The reminder of our personal impact on the world. To understand that even in our small corners of the world, we still make a difference in someone's life. That someone, even just one person, marks our passage of time and appreciates our presence.

That has been hard. I have lost a few friends over the years because of my mistakes, my bad relationships, and physical distance. My best friend of twenty years has not spoken to me in almost 18 months because of a misunderstanding. Even though I have called, e-mailed, and apologized for something that wasn't even my fault, it has been hard. I still read occasionally think back to my ex-friend who referred to me as "passive aggressive" and "jealous" of my failure to find marriage and happiness. I feel let down by the people I supported throughout my life, who abandoned me when I needed friends the most.

Some nights, I lay awake feeling like my life has been a failure.

But am I really a failure? Is being single, a failure? Or am I in a transitional period (albeit a long period) where I am moving towards greater satisfaction and perhaps that ultimate goal of love? I am a year away from a doctorate. A goal I have dreamed about since I was 8 years old. It was something I have wanted longer than a husband. It has something that I never let anyone tell me "no" to. The completion of my doctorate is proof, that I am not a failure and not a coward no matter how tough the struggle. No matter how much I need a vacation.

Like many people, I can get caught up in the negative in my life. Trust me, when you live paycheck to paycheck, it is hard not to be a "Negative Nelly". But turning 33 might be the year for me. Without being overtly sappy or condescending, I appreciate all the well wishes and love this weekend. It has meant so much to me. It is the light that I will try and hold on to when the days become dark. 

We forget that sometimes the greatest gifts we can give to another person is our time, our compassion, and our love. Since I am a believer in the little things, it was those little things this weekend that meant the most to me. Many of you, that read my blog, were one of those people who took the time to tell me you thought of me. And I thank you.

I am another year older, but yet, I pass another year on this Earth knowing that I am loved and valued. In my darkest days when I used to contemplate suicide because I was so isolated and depressed in my abusive relationship, I had lost sight of my self-worth and my value. 

I may not have that one special person who thinks the world of me, but I have quite a few people who are glad for me to a be small presence in their life. My life is rich and full of joy because I can wake up knowing that a few people are glad that I am alive. And I need to remember, that no man or person for that matter, can take that away from me.

In the end, maybe that is all that should matter. That we love and our loved. I for one, am the luckiest, because I know I am loved.

Free

ACL Surgery: Post-Op Day 7

It was a week ago today, that I had my surgery. In that week, I have seen the muscles in my calf and quad atrophy to the point of looking like something that resembles a pasty Gumbi leg with a swollen club foot. My vanity of looking good this summer in shorts, has certainly gone out of the window. But surgery is certainly a humbling experience.

I had a lot of problems last night sleeping due to the leg pain. Throbbing and searing pain running down my incision (below the knee cap) and medially on the inside of my knee. I almost broke down and took some of the prescription pain medicine I had been reacting badly to, but instead spent the wee hours of the morning watching the Mindy Project online.

Today after a lot of icing and laying around in bed with the cats working on school work and procrastinating on being anything useful, my knee pain has subsided. Which means my weekend will be spent working on my rehab exercises, cleaning my apartment, entertaining an old coworker from Andrews, and working on school work and work work. My only consolation is that by this time next month, summer will have begun, and I will be confident on where my job prospects with be for the next year (at my current employer or somewhere else). I will also hopefully be more mobile with a better looking leg than what is currently underneath all of the Ace bandages.

ACL Surgery: Post-Op Day 6

Today was the hardest day yet, and that had more to do with a reaction to my pain medicine than my knee. A few days ago I had my opiate medicine changed from Oxycodone to Hydrocone due to a mild allergy. 

Last night I took the Hydrocodome and felt terrible. I was nauseated, itched all over over, my face and hands were numb, and I felt like I couldn't get a breath. I looked up the side effects and the symptoms for a reaction, and couldn't figure out which was happening (thanks WebMD).

I then made the decision to go to the ER and after an unsuccessful phone call to a co-worker I decided to drive myself (bad knee and all). By the time I reached the ER I was feeling panicked, which didn't help matters when I saw the that the ER and registration area was dark. I knocked frankly on the glass to be greeted by a nurse who blew me off and said, "Someone will be there in a minute" before walking away. Needless to say by the time I was ushered in to the room I was dizzy, nauseated, numb, and hyperventilating. 

While I tried to explain through tears that I didn't't feel right, my blood pressure had sky rocketed to 170/100. Apparently I was in the middle of a panic attack, which is also not normal for me. It also didn't help that I had the same nurse who had blown me off minutes before.

After some cajoling by my the doctor, I got myself under control enough to give them a list of symptoms and hand them my medication. Which after an administration of a high dose of Benadryl, I learned that I probably was having another bad reaction to the medicine but not enough to be in a "life threatening" emergency. (Although a male ER nurse told me he would still take the medicine if he was in pain.)

Needless, to say I felt embarrassed. While I might be a science teacher, I am not a medically trained professional. When the medication's side effects are as similar to the symptoms of a reaction, you don't have time to decide what is an emergency or not. Especially when you leave alone. My cars certainly lack the ability to dial 911 or to keep an eye on my breathing should I pass out.

However, if the doctor had just felt it was a mere side effect, I doubt I would have received the Benadryl and the prescription for the EpiPen. I just wish, I had been reassured that my reaction and decision to seek medical help was the right reaction, instead of being made to feel like an overreaction. Don't make the single person feel bad for getting help, especially when it comes to a medication that is highly abused by many patients.

I did speak to my knee doctor since my early morning visit, and we both decided that I would withhold on taking any more prescription pain medicine. As he phrased it, "I would be more concerned about a patient calling for more narcotics after a few days, then calling and saying they don't want to take them."

You see, my familiarity and experience with narcotics is pretty minimal beside my experience with my wisdom teeth at 15. With my mother's battle with prescription pain medicine addiction (Percoset), I have always declined the offer of prescription pain medicine when offered (dental fillings, sports injuries, etc.) in the past because of that fear. However, I now have an even bigger reason to say no, the hypersentivity. For me the side effects negate any of the potential benefits of taking the medicine. (Not to mention I felt like a crazy person.)

On the plus side, my physical therapy went well and I got to enjoy the evening sitting outside with friends with a bottle of wine. I think alcohol will remain my pain medicine of choice during recovery. 

ACL Surgery: Post-Op Day 5

Today was the first day that I ventured out of my apartment since surgery. After spending the last few days with my face pressed up against the window screen like my three cats, my mom came for a visit.

Albeit, the reasons for the visit were to bring my laundry and take me to a job interview. Either way, it was nice to be outside in the fresh air and sunshine. The job interview went well and my interviewers seemed impressed by my mobility on my crutches. Of course, I insisted on doing everything myself to prevent any sign of weakness showing in my interview or to my mom. (This might also explain the swollen foot.)

While the interview went well, it will be a couple of weeks before I hear either way whether or not I got the job. It is a good school district and competition is high for jobs. Of course, the highlight of the interview had to be me responding to their question of why they should hire me with: "Because I am fun." Of course about forty minutes into the interview, I was desparate for pain medicine and a bathroom. (I spent thirty minutes waiting in the lobby before the interview had begun.)

My mom who feels like she never sees me, insisted on lunch afterward, and we headed to Aladdin's to debrief over the interview. However, after a few hours outside on crutches and the cramped restraint of my metallic brace, my surgical staples were bothering me and I longed for the couch. I was probably not the best of company having eaten most of my lunch in silence.

What has surprised me about my ordeal is that while my surgery was neither complicated or lengthy, I still feel pretty wiped out. Last week I was running a 5K and feeling good, today I was sweating trying to make it up 3 flights of stairs on crutches. I also find myself worn out by company. I have been grateful that most friends have kept their recent visits somewhat brief. Even being social has been draining.

The fatigue I am experiencing, also drives home the need for rehabilitation therapy after any kind of surgical repair. It is obvious that despite my athleticism and willful stubbornness, the recovery process will be long and challenging. Any surgery exacts some sort of physical and sometimes mental measure from the patient. It also gives me a deeper respect for those people who have come through more serious and physically debilatating procedures. I am not sure I am as strong or as brave as I want to believe I am. However, I will soon have a chance to learn what kind of stuff I am made of. 

For tomorrow, the real challenge begins...physical therapy.

ACL Surgery: Post-Op Day 3

If yesterday's challenge was my allergic reaction to the Oxycodone, then today's challenge has been my swollen foot. I realize this is singular, since my left foot is normal but my root foot looks like it belongs to Andre the Giant. The swelling is probably a combination of surgery and trying to walk around too much (without crutches). I have now resorted to icing my ankle as well as my knee. 

While I can say I moved from the couch to the bed and back again several times in an attempt to get comfortable, I did manage to have a productive day. I will also say that FitBits do not work well when you are on crutches. According to my FitBit I have gone 4,257 steps today while hobbling along on crutches in my apartment. I think it's pity steps.

My mom helped me get new pain medicine today to replace the Oxycodone that made me feel like I had poison ivy all over my body. I also set-up a job interview for Wednesday, and my first therapy session for Thursday. Which means I am going to feel like Jessica Tandy the rest of the week from the movie, Driving Miss Daisy. Except I am not a cute, white-haired old lady.

My sisters have also been checking up on me regularly, which has been nice. However, they seem to wait and do it once my pain meds have kicked in. Thus my text conversations looks like this:

Sister: How are you feeling?

Me: I am okay. (Original message: I amf oklsay) 

Sister: You take off the bandages yet?

Me: Yes. (Original message before 5 minutes of editing: Yggesd)

Sister: Did you try the kimchi yet that I made?

Me: It was good. (Fell asleep for 5 minutes after writing this original message: Fhgoofd)

In other words, I am like a drunk three year old trying to type something that resembles sense on my Smartphone. To which, if you have texted me during the height of my narcotic induced stupor, I apologize. It feels like I am moving through maple syrup.

But today, was a small victory, because the bandages came off, despite the fact that my knee looks like a Van Gogh with the reds, purples, violets, and fuschia. And according to my sister who has had ACL surgery, the fun really starts with therapy.

ACL Surgery: Post-Op Day 2

So, today my post is definitely a lot less cheerful. This would also be due to the fact that the femoral block is now gone and I am having an allergic reaction to the Oxycodone. Thus, I have to forgo any strong pain medicine until the doctor calls me back on Monday. 

Today, my ankle on my right knee is about the size of Kansas and the mobility of yesterday is replaced with a snail's pace as everything hurts. The worst is finding a position comfortable enough to sleep in, where my leg doesn't feel like it's being snapped off. This is also compounded by the fact that my oldest cat, Stitch, sees my pain and wants to cuddle. Of course, he doesn't understand that 16 pounds of pressure doesn't feel good on a post-surgical knee.

Tomorrow, is the day I am supposed to remove the bandages from surgery and take a look behind curtain #1. The reality of actually being sliced into will be hard to ignore once the steri-strips and incisions are revealed in all of their glory. I am also hoping that being able to put the ice pack on top of the actual incisions will help with the pain and swelling tomorrow. 

I am already tired of the ACL brace and crutches, and it is only Day 2. And today, I lacked the courage to do any rehab exercises other than squeezing my quads. I have a feeling like any road, there is going to be some ups and downs in this journey. 

ACL surgery: Post-Op Day 1

Well if I am posting, the good news is I survived my surgery yesterday. I will admit that going into the surgery, I was nervous and frightened. Any surgery that requires anesthesia always runs the risk of complications, not to mention post-op challenges of possible tissue rejection or clotting and infection.

I have to say that nothing takes the place of quality patient care. While perhaps, I am premature in giving a review for the staff at the Health & Wellness center in Montrose, their professionalism and humor went a long way in reducing my fears. The pre-op nurse was all smiles and the anesthesiologist came in and introduced himself as "Dan" before informing me that I would be receiving the "top shelf" medicine. My orthopedic surgeon came in and marked my knee with a smiley face, and spent time with me to discuss the surgery and the femoral block I would be receiving. We also talked about our cats (his wife and him also rescue cats).

Once I was wheeled into the operating room, it was hard not feeling like I was either in the movie, Dead Man Walking, or being somewhat Christ-like as I was strapped to the table with my arms outstretched. As they prepared the arthroscope and my doctor played with cadaver tissue like kneading dough, they made conversation with me and laughed about my Anatomy students asking me to request the "pirate" option for surgery (a wood leg instead of ACL reconstruction). In fact, the surgery team decided to provide an alternative option to the wood leg as they began speaking in pirate accents, and informed me that I would be walking the plank. Of course this light banter, had an ulterior motive. As my anesthesiologist was talking about changing his Facebook page to "pirate" he injected the anesthesia into my IV. Thus, rather than the anxious lead up to being put under, instead I heard laughter from what appeared to be great team camaraderie as I fell asleep.

I woke up about an hour later in recovery to yet another cheerful nurse who offered me a virgin cranberry and vodka. Unlike the anesthesia which left me extremely loopy after wisdom teeth (I was 16), I awake feeling fully alert and was able to dress myself without assistance. By the time my mom and sister walked into recovery, I was sitting in a chair with my second "cocktail" and ready to go. 

While the femoral block lasted all of yesterday, requiring me only to take a couple of Alleve. I decided to take my Oxycodone before bed since the block would be wearing off by the next day. (I try and avoid taking any narcotic/opiate due to my family history of addiction unless necessary). 

While there is some pain today as my block has worn off, it is manageable and I am able to get around well with crutches and putting some weight on my repaired knee. It is odd knowing that yesterday I could run up and down hallways, climb stairs, and carry several bags of groceries up three flights. Or the fact that last week I played football, went line dancing, and ran a 5K, to having a leg today which feels and acts like jello. (Getting up the stairs was the biggest challenge yesterday, but I managed it pretty well).

Since I haven't had to rely on my Oxycodone today, I decided to reward my good patient behavior with a beer as I work on my quad squeezes and leg lifts. And I took a shower (although I was told not to for 3 days) by wrapping my bandages in a garbage bag. Of course getting into and out of the shower is not easy with no leg strength in my guiding knee. I am almost feel head first into the wall as my knee gave out with no brace on. However warm water and soap goes a long way in making you feel decent again.

On Monday, I will schedule my first physical therapy appointments as I begin my 6-8 month rehabilitation. In the meantime, I have been blessed and extremely grateful for the countless texts, phone calls, e-mails, and prayers from family, friends, and students alike. While it may be nice to have a man in my life for the heavy lifting, I would not trade the support I have in my life for any man right now. (If you are reading this, chances are, you are one of those people I owe my thanks to. You have no idea the extent of my gratitude for your friendships and endless support.) While I may not have a man, I am certainly not lacking in love. I feel stronger because of the strength in my life.