Sunday, June 29, 2008
Me and Common Sense
Or more appropriately, me and my lack of common sense. Sometimes I truly baffle myself with my lack of common sense.
Last weekend, for instance, I ate and apple and drank a cup of coffee before going to the gym. Good smartie. 5 minutes on the elliptical and my gym experience was kaput and I was running for the locker room toilets. Why can't I think stuff like that through?
Then last weekend as well (what a weekend! Maybe I was just off or something) Savory Man and I went out for a little dinner on Friday night. **hold on interim story** We saw the most spectacular double rainbows at dinner! The primary rainbow was enormous, so much that it wouldn't fit in my camera frame. And how often do you get to see a double rainbow?
Anyhow, we are driving back and there is a fabulous sunset and as usual, I get all sorts of excited and need to run into the house and up onto the roof with my camera. As I'm trying to push the roof door open because it is stuck, I manage to put my head through the plastic panes of the door itself.
Savory Man taped it up and it survived the horrific storm we had so it'll be ok for now I guess. I did get my sunset shots. You're probably bored with them as they always look the same. I can't help it though. I just adore watching the colors of the sky change.
Last weekend, for instance, I ate and apple and drank a cup of coffee before going to the gym. Good smartie. 5 minutes on the elliptical and my gym experience was kaput and I was running for the locker room toilets. Why can't I think stuff like that through?
Then last weekend as well (what a weekend! Maybe I was just off or something) Savory Man and I went out for a little dinner on Friday night. **hold on interim story** We saw the most spectacular double rainbows at dinner! The primary rainbow was enormous, so much that it wouldn't fit in my camera frame. And how often do you get to see a double rainbow?
Anyhow, we are driving back and there is a fabulous sunset and as usual, I get all sorts of excited and need to run into the house and up onto the roof with my camera. As I'm trying to push the roof door open because it is stuck, I manage to put my head through the plastic panes of the door itself.
Savory Man taped it up and it survived the horrific storm we had so it'll be ok for now I guess. I did get my sunset shots. You're probably bored with them as they always look the same. I can't help it though. I just adore watching the colors of the sky change.
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
Accepting This Stage of Life
I know sometimes my fervent readers (well ok, my sister) like to read when I write about all the deep thoughts that penetrate my days. For the record, all days are not so thoughtful and deep - thank god - my life is exhausting enough. Last night, however, I had a thoughtful night inspired by nostalgia for my twenties. Perhaps it was my recent 32nd birthday, perhaps it's summer, perhaps it's just reflection and I should stop making a big deal about it.
Last night Savory Man and I went to the Dave Matthews concert. I've gone to the Dave Matthews summer concert in greater Boston for at least the last 8 years, maybe longer. Some years, I went to both a winter and summer show. Most of these summer shows I've gone to with Susan. It was our summer activity to look forward to every year and we went and enjoyed religiously. In our mid-twenties, we drank like, well, like we were in our mid-twenties. We enjoyed the lights and sounds in a hyperbolic way. In our late twenties, we opted for reserved parking to beat the kiddos out of the lot late night and fewer drinks, but still enough to remain altered in mind and spirit similar to the musicians of this, one of our favorite bands.
For the past two years, Susan and I have not had the opportunity to go to the concert together which is in a way, metaphorical of how we are growing in different directions and see each other less often than we did 5 years ago. Though I've had tickets for back to back shows every year through the Dave Matthews fan club, last year Susan couldn't go due to schedules and this year I couldn't go. We both went to shows this year, albeit with different people. I do miss our sometimes extravagantly carefree outings, adventures in the parking lots, and singing and dancing to all of the songs we enjoyed as the band came out with new cds throughout our college years and early twenties. I am sad that these times have changed and I'm not necessarily sold that the current times are better than my days of excess and measured irresponsibility in my twenties.
I'm not blind to the idea that a lot of this thought process has to do with my ever-present issues of searching for meaning and finding value in everyday. I'm also not unaware that some psychologists would tell me that all that drinking and excess in my twenties was my way of 1) finding myself; or 2)numbing the difficult feelings associated with all this search for meaning. While I'm building equity by owning a place, and I'm proud of the place and proud of my ability to stay on top of the costs, I'm not sure it has created that meaning that I'm hungering for.
As Savory Man and I drove into the parking lot last night, it was hard not to have a little nostalgia for the times when we were like the college kids, home for the summer, going to concerts and practicing our drinking skills outside of the dorms. As we were walking to the ampitheater, Savory Man and I were bumped into and were apologized to by dozens of laughing, unsteady twenty-somethings. I have to admit I miss that. I miss the freedom of drinking like that and the laughs and understanding of friends who also enjoyed that liberty of those nights. These days, I have an honest fear of hangovers and a bank account that scares me enough not to waste money on empty calories.
Yeah, old. Hangover fear, money, and calories. Is this what my life has come to? I can't say I know definitively that there was meaning in drinking and partying the way we did during the summers, and undoubtedly the drinking and partying contributed a good amount to the credit card debt I'm enslaved with. It is surely no mystery that they did their share contributing to the spare tire around my waist as well. Were all of those good times not tempered with enough concern? I guess not. I was out for risk and reward and boy did I have a good time.
Beers inside the concert were $8. Eight bucks for a bottle of beer. Mortgage payments make it really easy to spend the 3 hours of the concert not partaking of ANY drinks, water, or fried dough. Sometimes I go overboard and am too frugal and don't allow myself any leeway in my new spending habits. I can't say I've been as successful with my caloric habits, but that's a work in progress. Frugality and avoiding temptations in spending (ie reassessing how much value I place on the things I previously spent my disposable income on)is working and I've been able to successfully keep up with all of my payments. My social life has suffered drastically and sometimes I hate it. I hate this stage of life. I hate being so careful. I hate being so disciplined. I hate not rewarding myself as much as I think I deserve. But I know I'm not alone and it's not like everyone around me is still enjoying that freedom.
Savory Man and I sat near some real fanatics at the show. Most of them were our age and they were sober and enthusiastic. They have probably been fans since back in the day as well. They probably had wild nights tailgating and finding alternative places to empty their bladders too. They probably had nights when they passed out while waiting hours to exit the parking lot and others when they cooked burgers and had a couple more drinks with the nice people they parked next to. Savory Man and I waited a champion TWO hours to get out of our parking lot last night. This is one of those times when I should have left the frugality behind and opted for easy exit parking. It was a lesson for my early thirties.
I am genuinely frustrated with feeling as though I have gone, or I am going in one direction but I have such strong feelings for a different direction. But I can't prove to myself that all those years I look so fondly on were productive or progressive. Another side of me KNOWS they didn't have to be. It was a time when I learned a lot about myself and cemented incredible friendships with some great people. It was a time that shed light on times before it and informed (oh god am I writing a report for work now?)what I'm doing today. For that I should be thankful right? Am I just not looking at this comprehensively enough? Am I being an ingrate and not being thankful for what I've done and what I have? Am I just being dramatic? Probably.
Last night Savory Man and I went to the Dave Matthews concert. I've gone to the Dave Matthews summer concert in greater Boston for at least the last 8 years, maybe longer. Some years, I went to both a winter and summer show. Most of these summer shows I've gone to with Susan. It was our summer activity to look forward to every year and we went and enjoyed religiously. In our mid-twenties, we drank like, well, like we were in our mid-twenties. We enjoyed the lights and sounds in a hyperbolic way. In our late twenties, we opted for reserved parking to beat the kiddos out of the lot late night and fewer drinks, but still enough to remain altered in mind and spirit similar to the musicians of this, one of our favorite bands.
For the past two years, Susan and I have not had the opportunity to go to the concert together which is in a way, metaphorical of how we are growing in different directions and see each other less often than we did 5 years ago. Though I've had tickets for back to back shows every year through the Dave Matthews fan club, last year Susan couldn't go due to schedules and this year I couldn't go. We both went to shows this year, albeit with different people. I do miss our sometimes extravagantly carefree outings, adventures in the parking lots, and singing and dancing to all of the songs we enjoyed as the band came out with new cds throughout our college years and early twenties. I am sad that these times have changed and I'm not necessarily sold that the current times are better than my days of excess and measured irresponsibility in my twenties.
I'm not blind to the idea that a lot of this thought process has to do with my ever-present issues of searching for meaning and finding value in everyday. I'm also not unaware that some psychologists would tell me that all that drinking and excess in my twenties was my way of 1) finding myself; or 2)numbing the difficult feelings associated with all this search for meaning. While I'm building equity by owning a place, and I'm proud of the place and proud of my ability to stay on top of the costs, I'm not sure it has created that meaning that I'm hungering for.
As Savory Man and I drove into the parking lot last night, it was hard not to have a little nostalgia for the times when we were like the college kids, home for the summer, going to concerts and practicing our drinking skills outside of the dorms. As we were walking to the ampitheater, Savory Man and I were bumped into and were apologized to by dozens of laughing, unsteady twenty-somethings. I have to admit I miss that. I miss the freedom of drinking like that and the laughs and understanding of friends who also enjoyed that liberty of those nights. These days, I have an honest fear of hangovers and a bank account that scares me enough not to waste money on empty calories.
Yeah, old. Hangover fear, money, and calories. Is this what my life has come to? I can't say I know definitively that there was meaning in drinking and partying the way we did during the summers, and undoubtedly the drinking and partying contributed a good amount to the credit card debt I'm enslaved with. It is surely no mystery that they did their share contributing to the spare tire around my waist as well. Were all of those good times not tempered with enough concern? I guess not. I was out for risk and reward and boy did I have a good time.
Beers inside the concert were $8. Eight bucks for a bottle of beer. Mortgage payments make it really easy to spend the 3 hours of the concert not partaking of ANY drinks, water, or fried dough. Sometimes I go overboard and am too frugal and don't allow myself any leeway in my new spending habits. I can't say I've been as successful with my caloric habits, but that's a work in progress. Frugality and avoiding temptations in spending (ie reassessing how much value I place on the things I previously spent my disposable income on)is working and I've been able to successfully keep up with all of my payments. My social life has suffered drastically and sometimes I hate it. I hate this stage of life. I hate being so careful. I hate being so disciplined. I hate not rewarding myself as much as I think I deserve. But I know I'm not alone and it's not like everyone around me is still enjoying that freedom.
Savory Man and I sat near some real fanatics at the show. Most of them were our age and they were sober and enthusiastic. They have probably been fans since back in the day as well. They probably had wild nights tailgating and finding alternative places to empty their bladders too. They probably had nights when they passed out while waiting hours to exit the parking lot and others when they cooked burgers and had a couple more drinks with the nice people they parked next to. Savory Man and I waited a champion TWO hours to get out of our parking lot last night. This is one of those times when I should have left the frugality behind and opted for easy exit parking. It was a lesson for my early thirties.
I am genuinely frustrated with feeling as though I have gone, or I am going in one direction but I have such strong feelings for a different direction. But I can't prove to myself that all those years I look so fondly on were productive or progressive. Another side of me KNOWS they didn't have to be. It was a time when I learned a lot about myself and cemented incredible friendships with some great people. It was a time that shed light on times before it and informed (oh god am I writing a report for work now?)what I'm doing today. For that I should be thankful right? Am I just not looking at this comprehensively enough? Am I being an ingrate and not being thankful for what I've done and what I have? Am I just being dramatic? Probably.
Friday, June 20, 2008
Trippin'
It has been a long time since I traveled for work. Part of the reason for that is my job change out of the International Division and into overall administration. Part of it was that I burned out last year with personal and work travel combined with buying a house. But I got myself involved in a pretty big proposal for work that looks very promising for us. As a result, I'm off to the friendly skies again next week to, of all places, Liberia.
And no, similar to Ukraine, I had no idea where Liberia was until I looked it up. Turns out it's in West Africa and the capital city is right on the ocean. Also turns out that it's the rainy season in Liberia right now. Shoot.
Liberia actually has a really interesting history though it's been tainted by some pretty horrible civil wars in the past decade. It is indeed on the State Department's list of countries one should not voluntarily go to. But I'm going to take my chance and chalk it up to adventure. Woman could use a little adventure these days...let me tell you.
You can go to Wikipedia and read ALL about Liberia, but for those of you taking a quick break to read just here, I'll give you the shorter version.
So there are 17 main ethnicities in little Liberia, a country of only 3.4 million people on 43,000 square miles (Florida has about 54,000 land square miles if it helps and about 18 million residents). Many of these folks came from neighboring lands due to collapsing empires though some came due to invasion. In the early 1800s, the controversial American Colonization Society saw Liberia as an ideal place to 'send' freed black slaves from America. In 1847, the new settlers declared Liberian independence. Much of their new culture was based on their American experience giving them a much different experience than most West Africans whose roots were more indigenous.
In the early 1900s, Firestone Rubber moved in to make a killing - you know financially. It was a touch of modernization and helped out the job force but obviously caused some issues with culture and corporate imposition. In 1980, a mixture of indigenous groups came together to rebel against the Americo-Liberians who had been leading the country for 100 years. A lot of corruption followed and Samuel Doe led an authoritarian regime until 1989 when the people had just had enough and a civil war broke out.
Former allies warred against each other in bloody battle for years each with backing from different African countries and leaders. In 1997 a fellow, backed by the infamous Muammar Al-Gaddafi, named Charles Taylor was elected President. He was a monster and over 200,000 Liberian residents died in civil war under his throne. International pressure forced him out of power and he was extradited to Nigeria and then Sierra Leone where he was charged with war crimes against humanity.
In 2005, in a heated election, Ellen Johnson-Sirleaf, a Harvard-trained economist, won the presidential election. Born in rural Liberia, Johnson-Sirleaf worked for Citibank and the World Bank as well as for the UN before winning the election. There is a lot of hope for her leadership and progress for the country.
I am going to Liberia to help construct a budget for a $52 million program to build and improve the infrastructure of the public health system in collaboration with the Ministry of Health. I'll be getting prices for essential labor, equipment, and materials needed to run a program of this size for 5 years. I may meet with local NGOs (non-profits) who we plan to partner with to help them with our budgets and orient them to how my organization does business. It should be a quick two weeks and there is a lot of work to do, but we have a good chance of winning the project.
On the other side, it is the rainy season in Liberia which does not lend itself to good picture taking. My sister will be glad to know that sewing and quilting are some of Liberia's main industries. You may also remember it from the Blood Diamond movie of its involvement in diamond exporting schemes which have since been halted by the UN.
I hope to blog while I'm there but from what I've heard, electricity and internet are not stable in Monrovia, the capital city.
And no, similar to Ukraine, I had no idea where Liberia was until I looked it up. Turns out it's in West Africa and the capital city is right on the ocean. Also turns out that it's the rainy season in Liberia right now. Shoot.
Liberia actually has a really interesting history though it's been tainted by some pretty horrible civil wars in the past decade. It is indeed on the State Department's list of countries one should not voluntarily go to. But I'm going to take my chance and chalk it up to adventure. Woman could use a little adventure these days...let me tell you.
You can go to Wikipedia and read ALL about Liberia, but for those of you taking a quick break to read just here, I'll give you the shorter version.
So there are 17 main ethnicities in little Liberia, a country of only 3.4 million people on 43,000 square miles (Florida has about 54,000 land square miles if it helps and about 18 million residents). Many of these folks came from neighboring lands due to collapsing empires though some came due to invasion. In the early 1800s, the controversial American Colonization Society saw Liberia as an ideal place to 'send' freed black slaves from America. In 1847, the new settlers declared Liberian independence. Much of their new culture was based on their American experience giving them a much different experience than most West Africans whose roots were more indigenous.
In the early 1900s, Firestone Rubber moved in to make a killing - you know financially. It was a touch of modernization and helped out the job force but obviously caused some issues with culture and corporate imposition. In 1980, a mixture of indigenous groups came together to rebel against the Americo-Liberians who had been leading the country for 100 years. A lot of corruption followed and Samuel Doe led an authoritarian regime until 1989 when the people had just had enough and a civil war broke out.
Former allies warred against each other in bloody battle for years each with backing from different African countries and leaders. In 1997 a fellow, backed by the infamous Muammar Al-Gaddafi, named Charles Taylor was elected President. He was a monster and over 200,000 Liberian residents died in civil war under his throne. International pressure forced him out of power and he was extradited to Nigeria and then Sierra Leone where he was charged with war crimes against humanity.
In 2005, in a heated election, Ellen Johnson-Sirleaf, a Harvard-trained economist, won the presidential election. Born in rural Liberia, Johnson-Sirleaf worked for Citibank and the World Bank as well as for the UN before winning the election. There is a lot of hope for her leadership and progress for the country.
I am going to Liberia to help construct a budget for a $52 million program to build and improve the infrastructure of the public health system in collaboration with the Ministry of Health. I'll be getting prices for essential labor, equipment, and materials needed to run a program of this size for 5 years. I may meet with local NGOs (non-profits) who we plan to partner with to help them with our budgets and orient them to how my organization does business. It should be a quick two weeks and there is a lot of work to do, but we have a good chance of winning the project.
On the other side, it is the rainy season in Liberia which does not lend itself to good picture taking. My sister will be glad to know that sewing and quilting are some of Liberia's main industries. You may also remember it from the Blood Diamond movie of its involvement in diamond exporting schemes which have since been halted by the UN.
I hope to blog while I'm there but from what I've heard, electricity and internet are not stable in Monrovia, the capital city.
Wednesday, June 18, 2008
Happy Birthday to Me!
Allow me the chance to be self-aggrandizing for one day of the year.
As we all know, birthdays are really not that exciting anymore. Nonetheless, my 32nd year was enhanced with lots of special thought and effort by friends and family singing on the phone and thoughtful gifts from special people.
Savory Man ran around town picking up beautiful roses, the most ginormous balloon I've ever received, and the yummiest ice cream cake I do believe I've had in years. Thankfully it continued to be yummy last night as well!
In a surprise from nowhere, Savory Man's uncle brought over a 1998 bottle of Dom Perignon! I haven't opened it due to a time in the 90s when my parents received a bottle themselves, and due to its specialness they saved it for 10 years until NYE 2000. Perhaps I'll save for the unveiling of the new deck because I don't intend to be here for the next millennium celebration.
My sister sent over some very relevant gifts for my upcoming trip to Africa - some baggage tags, homemade soap, and a travel case:
And finally, lots of flowers arrived yesterday. I was remiss in not taking pictures of the amazing gerbera daisies that Susan sent yesterday. But the extra bouquet FTD sent because they forgot (whoops!) to send me the gerbera daisies ON my birthday is brightening my desk. Look at those lilies!
As we all know, birthdays are really not that exciting anymore. Nonetheless, my 32nd year was enhanced with lots of special thought and effort by friends and family singing on the phone and thoughtful gifts from special people.
Savory Man ran around town picking up beautiful roses, the most ginormous balloon I've ever received, and the yummiest ice cream cake I do believe I've had in years. Thankfully it continued to be yummy last night as well!
In a surprise from nowhere, Savory Man's uncle brought over a 1998 bottle of Dom Perignon! I haven't opened it due to a time in the 90s when my parents received a bottle themselves, and due to its specialness they saved it for 10 years until NYE 2000. Perhaps I'll save for the unveiling of the new deck because I don't intend to be here for the next millennium celebration.
My sister sent over some very relevant gifts for my upcoming trip to Africa - some baggage tags, homemade soap, and a travel case:
And finally, lots of flowers arrived yesterday. I was remiss in not taking pictures of the amazing gerbera daisies that Susan sent yesterday. But the extra bouquet FTD sent because they forgot (whoops!) to send me the gerbera daisies ON my birthday is brightening my desk. Look at those lilies!
Friday, June 6, 2008
Pride for the Hood
Somedays I have a lot of pride here. This is a recent YouTube about my hood. Enjoy!
Wednesday, June 4, 2008
Want to Know What's Up?
No lilacs, no wontons, no pictures of magnolias. But I've got epidurals for you.
Both Beth and I have been diagnosed with the same-ish back problems. In November or 2006, I had a discectomy on my back and am proud to say (what does this say about me that this is what I am proud of?) that the resident who performed the surgery with the specialist had never seen a protrusion the size of mine. The protrusion was the jelly-like disc that was being squished out between two of my vertebrae. Who knows how this stuff happens. But it was sitting on the nerve that goes down my right leg. This is more or less what Beth is dealing with too - the back of our legs were on fire, like a neon wire constantly firing itself on brighter and brighter. This is separate (but related) to the lower back pain which never goes away and is ever-present. It's one of those things you think about morning, noon, and night. I'm exhausted from thinking about it, from going to doctor's appointments, and from hurting. I know Beth must be exhausted by the process too. Long story short, some of the pain went away after my expensive surgery. 3 months later, it came back in a different way and despite PT and a range of other pain reducing options, the pain, especially when getting off the couch and out of bed, remains.
So today, I went for an epidural. I'm chasing Beth who has had her second and is scheduled for her third. The second, two weeks after the first, is supposed to add to the relief and get the pain to a plateau level. It is possible that I won't need to go back. Beth however had complications which led to her foot not working like a foot should work after her second shot, and she now needs a third shot to fix that. Nice, huh?
I was concerned because my first shot back in November of 2005, before the insurance company would allow me to get the $26,000 surgery (thank you BCBS!), was done in the doctor's office with a 9 foot needle and me leaning over an exam table with my naked bum up in the air. It was not pleasant. Beth had told me when she got hers, she was in a real surgery room 'sunny side up' on an exam table. I was scared. She told me
hers was a fluoroscopically guided injection, meaning that you and the doctor watch the needle and the medicine penetrate your back as you're lying on table. And guess what? Mine was like that today too!
As I'm reading this I'm watching a documentary called THIN. I know not everyone can get into but if you like them, you have to see this. The first woman they profile is anorexic and is a psychiatric nurse who can't control her anorexia. It's so sad and tells such an interesting story.
Anyhow, back to my own medical story. So though the procedure wasn't painless, the needle was considerably smaller. I was literally in and out of the pain clinic, on 2 different beds and had seen no fewer than 8 hospital staff all within 15 minutes. My appointment was at 10:15, I was out by 10:35. Wow. I watched the medicine as it flooded my back and felt immediately how it got into the nerve down my right leg. My leg was on a fire for a little while which they attribute to it being inflamed (still? 18 months later?). The back pain has not completely subsided, but the steroids, which is what they injected, are supposed to take full effect between 2 days and 2 weeks post injection. If they don't help 100% or close to 100%, I continue with my second appointment for the second shot.
Beth and I both lament being 30-ish and feeling 80-ish. What 30 year old can't get out of the bed in the morning without being in pain? GOD if I can start my days without pain, I will send gifts to the staff at the pain clinic. I'm now sending recuperative thoughts Beth's way because no 30 year old should be getting 3 epidurals for back pain.
Oh jeez this movie is scary. Just when I think I have some bad days! I also highly recommend The Cost of Being Born. It's a documentary led by Ricki Lake who was disgusted by the over-medicalization of the labor and delivery process. As someone who works in developing countries specifically on reproductive health issues, I know all the processes undertaken in developed countries during labor and delivery are not all necessary nor healthy for the mother. But because we ARE a developed country, it is expected by the citizens that this is what is right and good. This movie refutes a lot of those claims. It was very interesting.
Speaking of developing countries I'm off on my next trip. I'm going to Liberia at the end of this month. This coincides with my planning the construction of a deck off the back of my house which might be a little problematic, but a trip to an ocean city in Africa is too good to pass up. Should be interesting.
My friends, it's almost Thursday. Three cheers to that.
Both Beth and I have been diagnosed with the same-ish back problems. In November or 2006, I had a discectomy on my back and am proud to say (what does this say about me that this is what I am proud of?) that the resident who performed the surgery with the specialist had never seen a protrusion the size of mine. The protrusion was the jelly-like disc that was being squished out between two of my vertebrae. Who knows how this stuff happens. But it was sitting on the nerve that goes down my right leg. This is more or less what Beth is dealing with too - the back of our legs were on fire, like a neon wire constantly firing itself on brighter and brighter. This is separate (but related) to the lower back pain which never goes away and is ever-present. It's one of those things you think about morning, noon, and night. I'm exhausted from thinking about it, from going to doctor's appointments, and from hurting. I know Beth must be exhausted by the process too. Long story short, some of the pain went away after my expensive surgery. 3 months later, it came back in a different way and despite PT and a range of other pain reducing options, the pain, especially when getting off the couch and out of bed, remains.
So today, I went for an epidural. I'm chasing Beth who has had her second and is scheduled for her third. The second, two weeks after the first, is supposed to add to the relief and get the pain to a plateau level. It is possible that I won't need to go back. Beth however had complications which led to her foot not working like a foot should work after her second shot, and she now needs a third shot to fix that. Nice, huh?
I was concerned because my first shot back in November of 2005, before the insurance company would allow me to get the $26,000 surgery (thank you BCBS!), was done in the doctor's office with a 9 foot needle and me leaning over an exam table with my naked bum up in the air. It was not pleasant. Beth had told me when she got hers, she was in a real surgery room 'sunny side up' on an exam table. I was scared. She told me
hers was a fluoroscopically guided injection, meaning that you and the doctor watch the needle and the medicine penetrate your back as you're lying on table. And guess what? Mine was like that today too!
As I'm reading this I'm watching a documentary called THIN. I know not everyone can get into but if you like them, you have to see this. The first woman they profile is anorexic and is a psychiatric nurse who can't control her anorexia. It's so sad and tells such an interesting story.
Anyhow, back to my own medical story. So though the procedure wasn't painless, the needle was considerably smaller. I was literally in and out of the pain clinic, on 2 different beds and had seen no fewer than 8 hospital staff all within 15 minutes. My appointment was at 10:15, I was out by 10:35. Wow. I watched the medicine as it flooded my back and felt immediately how it got into the nerve down my right leg. My leg was on a fire for a little while which they attribute to it being inflamed (still? 18 months later?). The back pain has not completely subsided, but the steroids, which is what they injected, are supposed to take full effect between 2 days and 2 weeks post injection. If they don't help 100% or close to 100%, I continue with my second appointment for the second shot.
Beth and I both lament being 30-ish and feeling 80-ish. What 30 year old can't get out of the bed in the morning without being in pain? GOD if I can start my days without pain, I will send gifts to the staff at the pain clinic. I'm now sending recuperative thoughts Beth's way because no 30 year old should be getting 3 epidurals for back pain.
Oh jeez this movie is scary. Just when I think I have some bad days! I also highly recommend The Cost of Being Born. It's a documentary led by Ricki Lake who was disgusted by the over-medicalization of the labor and delivery process. As someone who works in developing countries specifically on reproductive health issues, I know all the processes undertaken in developed countries during labor and delivery are not all necessary nor healthy for the mother. But because we ARE a developed country, it is expected by the citizens that this is what is right and good. This movie refutes a lot of those claims. It was very interesting.
Speaking of developing countries I'm off on my next trip. I'm going to Liberia at the end of this month. This coincides with my planning the construction of a deck off the back of my house which might be a little problematic, but a trip to an ocean city in Africa is too good to pass up. Should be interesting.
My friends, it's almost Thursday. Three cheers to that.
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