phatDonna

A few weeks ago I went to the orthopedist for my ridiculously painful shoulder. Within a few moments of evaluating my range of motion and where it hurt and listening to my symptoms, he came to the conclusion that my problem is frozen shoulder. He sent me home to do some research and gave me some pain pills and an appointment for a follow up appointment.

I did my research. I took a few pain pills. The pain was still ridiculous, especially at night which is a hallmark of frozen shoulder. I don’t question the diagnosis. But I also can’t go months more like this.

Today at my follow up, we talked more and he again explained that the pain part probably would only last me another few months and then it would ease up follow by the temporary loss of motion. Yeah, great news. At night when I’m practically crying from the pain, or when I forget and accidentally reach for something the wrong way with my left arm, that is not comforting at all.

We talked about the nasty cortisone shot. He says that his success rate with the shot for pain relief for this is only 50/50, and it can hurt like a bitch (my words, not his) for a few days afterward. I looked at him and said simply, “I can’t take a vicod!n every day. I just can’t.” He immediately stood up and said, “We’ll do the shot.”

I will not lie. That shot is murder. It’s simply awful. There was deep breathing and tears before it was over. But so far I think it’s working. My shoulder stil hurts, but in an all over kind of way, and not the shooting pain I usually have when I try to do basic tasks. This will end in a day or two, I’m sure, but this is tolerable.

I’m free! Well, mostly free. Free enough for now.

Any guys out there, please avert your eyes. I’m going to talk about my period. Shoo! Shoo!

For the past two years I have had the worst periods. The first one I had like it had me convinced I was having a miscarriage. Then I kept having periods like it, and I realized that it wasn’t that. I thought that eventually it would go back to normal. Needless to say, it has not.

I asked the doctor about it at my last annual, and she did some bloodwork and sent me for an ultrasound to make sure everything was ok, and it was all fine. And I let it go for a few months after that. But today I finally went back and basically begged her to do something for me because I CANNOT TAKE IT ANYMORE.

She was terribly understanding and has presented me with several options. (I was really mad at being kept waiting for 45 minutes past my appointment time but then she spent a really long time with me too, so I had to mentally forgive her.) Now basically it’s my choice. She has agreed to whichever option I pick, and is also willing to try a few things until we find the answer.

I initially wrote this long rambling post going over the pros and cons of each option which likely would have bored you all to tears. But then after re-reading it, the answer was so plainly obvious to me.

A sex change is clearly the only way to go.

Just kidding. I think the IUD is the best first option.

She gave me a surgical option – an endometrial ablation – which I thought I was going to take because it’s absolutely hormone-free. But in the end, I can’t make that leap yet. Doing that would end any possibility of having more children. And while I KNOW that I don’t want any more children, I’m also not ready yet to take a final surgical step to that end. I’m not ready to have it taken out of my hands again. I spent too many years struggling with infertility to just hand it over again. If the IUD doesn’t work out how I want, then I’ll revisit surgical options.

So thanks for playing absolutely no part in my decision. Internet, you are a great sounding board.

Earlier this year I made a promise to myself to try to make a life here in Austin rather than running away out of town to escape my boredom. When I moved here in 2009 I had four really good friends (two couples) and while I ADORE them, they do have lives that don’t revolve around me. And just because I am bored and free on a Saturday doesn’t mean they are. I needed more friends.

I’m proud to say that I have done it. Through the magic of Twitter, I’ve met some really amazing women whom I adore. And the mother of a former classmate of Bridget has become a friend. It’s kind of hard to make friends when the context in which you know each other is school and parenting. Women can be so judgmental of other moms and sometimes just downright fucking mean. So just because Bridget really liked Sally (not her real name), there was no guarantee that the moms would do more than tolerate each other for the sake of the kids. But this friend and I click. She’s awesome. Plus Sally is one of the handful of Bridget’s friends that I actually love. I’m actually wondering if a sleepover might be in their immediate future.

All that sap is just to report that I am actually making a life here and I’m really happy about it.

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This thought occurred to me and then strangely I was just watching the Louis CK show Live at the Beacon Theater (if you are at all a fan and have a sick mind like me, please do go pay the $5 to download or stream this show – you won’t be sorry) and he made mention of the same thing. Weird. Anyway, the thought is this:

Bridget is now at an age that I remember being. I clearly remember being five. In some ways that makes the parenting thing a bit easier, because she’s more relatable now. On the other hand, all I can think now is, “I better not screw this up, because this is the shit she’ll be talking about in therapy in twenty years.”

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I had the BEST time last night. There is a U2 tribute band from Austin and they play pretty regularly at my favorite bar. Last night I went with Sally’s Mom (see above) (also I have no idea if she cares if I use her real name but I won’t for now just to be safe) (how many parentheses is it ok to have in one sentence?) (is this too many?) (yes?) (ok, I’ll stop) for my third time.

Listen, they are tribute band. They are not U2. But they do a great job and put on a fun show and every time I’ve been to see them, I’ve met amazing people. Last night, we shared a table with two really nice guys – there was no flirting or monkey business they were just nice fun guys. One was Australian and he answered a question for me that I’ve had forever about Australia. Then we discovered it was his birthday so we did Irish Car Bombs to celebrate. Although Sally’s Mom was responsible and didn’t drink hers because she was driving. I thank her heartily for that because I was obviously working hard to get my liver in shape for Vegas in two weeks.

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I have bought Bridget a Christmas present that I’m not sure I should give her. I won’t really go into what it is, but it’s kind of expensive and although I know she’ll love it, I wonder if she’ll care for it properly. It’s expensive enough that if she destroys it, I will be mad. I’ll be giving her her presents from me the day before she goes over to The Ex’s for Christmas, and I know she’ll want to take it there, which is fine. I totally trust him to help her take care of it. Plus she has had an iPod Touch for a year now and other than one incident where it was lost for a few days when she shoved it in the pile of giveaway clothes, she has cared for it remarkably well. But the control freak in me wants to wrap it in bubble wrap and make her wash her hands before she touches it. I need to get over this. (See above re: her remembering things and me not fucking up.)

Blah blah blah, it’s Christmas and I am the biggest humbug Scrooge McDuck around this year. I have purchased all of Bridget’s presents and no one else’s. I have no idea in fact what I’m getting anyone else. And I don’t seem to have any motivation to think about it.

Could be the cold I’ve been nursing for a week now, complete with a random vomiting episode and multiple nose bleeds. I am a sexy bitch, I know it. In any case I just don’t give a crap about Christmas this year.

But my living room does not reflect my lack of Christmas spirit.

Here’s the mantle. Stockings hung by the chimney with yada yada yada.

There’s the Christmas tree. All four staggering feet of it. Sitting atop my end table. My condo is simply too small for a regular sized tree. I hate fake Christmas trees but in my world there are some things that are just Man Jobs, and dealing with the set up a real Christmas tree is definitely a Man Job. If I ever move out of here, maybe I’ll decide to learn to use a saw and deal with a live tree. And maybe I’ll learn to hang pictures but I wouldn’t hold my breath if I were you.

So yeah. Merry Christmas. Ho ho ho.

I have the Cold That Will Not Die or CTWND for short. Is that shorter? I don’t know. I can’t be expected to think clearly in my condition.

It started last week on Sunday and I was pretty sure I was dying of rheumatic fever. I had to ask the EX to take Bridget on Monday night because sitting upright was a challenge for me and I knew that I was not going to manage getter her fed, bathed and in bed. As it was, getting up to go to the bathroom or make my own soup was enough to make me cry.

It seemed to be better every day. By Thursday I was able to do my first day of running. After the run my lungs decided to revolt for a good 30 minutes or so, but all seemed well.

But when I got up yesterday at 8 am fully prepared for my second run, I was again a gross mucus mess. Coughing, stuffy nose, sneezing – the whole shooting match. I let the dog out, realized it was raining and decided to just lie down again for a quick second to consider the path my day should take.

Five hours later… Yes, I woke up again at 1pm. I would feel guilty about this but my body obviously needed it. Today is not much better. I mean, I didn’t sleep until 1 pm. I woke up at 6:40 so I could work. But the phlegm. Oh the phlegm. (I am one sexy motherfucker, aren’t I?)

This is the cold that will not die. And now today is COLD and rainy and I need to run but WAAAAH! Maybe I should have a hot toddy and think it over.

Regret is the worst feeling in the world. Maybe you regret how you behaved in a certain situation. Maybe you regret how you treated a friend.

I think the worst thing in the world would be to reach the end of your life with regrets for chances not taken, for things left unsaid. But sometimes, too much time has passed. Too many things have changed. Life gets in the way. It would be wrong to say the things you want to say.

There’s nothing to be done but try to drive those feelings away. But that’s the hard part, isn’t it?

I did the Couch to 5K program a few years back with my friend in Dallas. We decided on September 1 that we were going to run the Turkey Trot on Thanksgiving day. We did that but because it was so crowded and impossible to run, we decided to run another one right before Christmas. That happened the day after I had to put my dog Lucy to sleep. Needless to say that wasn’t my best performance either. Then I started having problem knees when I ran and I gave it up in lieu of a personal trainer.

The point of all that is to say that this is not my first Couch to 5K rodeo. I’ve done it. I know it works.

Since the divorce I have gained weight, which makes me so mad because I worked my ass off for a year with my trainer in Dallas and was in decent shape. I’m pretty pissed that at myself for letting this happen.

Luckily I have wonderful friends in Austin who love to run and are motivating me. I am doing at least one 5K in February and another one (possibly a half marathon) in March. I WILL DO THIS.

I was planning to start this on Monday but I got struck down by the crud on Sunday afternoon, complete with fever and gross cough. So I gave myself until today to let my lungs recover from that. I was not exactly thrilled to put on my running shoes today but I did it. I have the Couch to 5K app on my iPhone which is AWESOME. I don’t have to worry about watching the time. I just listen to music and when it’s time to do something different, a nice lady comes on and says “Run now,” or “Walk now.” Although I have to admit when she tells me to run it feels like a warning and I wonder if there is an axe-wielding psychopath behind me. Other than that, I love her.

My lungs still aren’t sure they are going to forgive me. But I do have that fun endorphin rush right now, so there’s that.