The good, the bad, and the ugly

A semi-lucid report from my recovery armchair

Well, hello folks. Welcome to "the other side", as it has become known here in the TV household. Obvy, the good news begins with the fact that I am alive and the fact that they did not lop off my fingers by mistake. (Because, you know, hips... fingers... so easy to get mixed up.)

I'm on pain meds but am essentially lucid at this point (or at least I think I am - whether this blog translates as such in the morning, I guess I'll find out.) No vicodin for moi, my cocktail of pleasure is Hydrocodone (generic for Norco), which Hubby reports, as I write, as a new version of vicodin with less acetamenaphin (sp?). I'm a little spacey but overall seem to be less of in a fog than I was a few hours ago - hence I figured now was as good a time as any to blog a status update for those of you holding your breath for one. Um, yeah, right.

So, from my super-cozy (ok, relative for someone who has just had her leg pulled out of joint and her bone shaved down) position on my red armchair, here is the rundown...

THE GOOD

Which is a very good place to start.

My day started off well enough, given that I was immediately at a loss of what to do with myself - no coffee to make or drink, ditto breakfast, and 4 long hours before we had to head to the hospital. I did a yoga video, which was great distraction and a good way to calm my mind, took a shower (shaving all the important bits - can't have the surgeons playing with fuzzy legs), and then Hubby and I went on a long walk around the neighborhood. Luckily the weather was very cooperative - sunny and mid-sixties.

Calls of the morning included my sister-in-law, whose birthday just happened to be today. In a demonstration of just how out-of-sorts Hubby was, he managed to talk to her and hand the phone over to me without even remembering to wish her Happy Birthday. Of course, he was mortified when I (the freaking out patient) remembered. Haha, I thought that was pretty funny. I also got (but missed a call) from my friend, CJ, who left loving wishes with my voicemail and ever-so-touchingly proclaimed that she too was fasting all morning in solidarity with me. That brought a tear to my eye. Of course, I also spoke with Mum, who I think was more nervy that me. It has to be hard to be 6000 miles away from your daughter in these kinds of situations but I know she would be here in a nanosecond if I asked. I'll see her soon, I'm sure, when I'm more mobile and can walk long enough to go on one of our mammoth shopping trips!

Shout-outs should also go to my friend, Mala and 'e' of The Gerli Life, who called the day before plus blog-mate, Urban Koda, who sent words of encouragement through a blog comment.

All-in-all, I felt (feel) very lucky to have such wonderful, loving friends and family to support me through this. Thank you everyone!

Then it was off to the hospital.

We checked into the Ambulatory Observation Unit (probably means about as much to you as to me unless you've done this before or work in a hospital) and got assigned a curtained-off spot with wheely bed right away. I changed into my ever-so-sexy, butt-revealing blue gown and had all my vitals taken by the nurse. For the first of what seemed like 100x, she had me confirm my name, my DOB and the surgery I was getting - I was all like seriously, who would want to pretend to be me just to get this surgery. Heck, if I could pretend not to be me today, I would!

Shortly after this, my Mother-In-Law, Rosie, arrived. I wasn't expecting her so early and was really thankful to have her there to keep both Hubby and I talking and thinking about other things. I felt really special because I was the only one there with somebody by my bed side, and how cool that one of those people was my mother-in-law? Most people hate their mother-in-laws but I couldn't have been happier to see her face.

The next bit falls into the bad, so I'll skip to... Waiting in the recovery room for the anaesthesia.

While waiting, one of my surgeons (the one who was helping not the one who I'm listed 'under') came to say hi. He remembered me from 3 years ago when I was originally his patient, and tool some time to talk to me about what was going to happen. Give that my current surgeon has never done part of my procedure arthroscopically before and this guy does it all the time, this had a significant effect on calming my nerves.

One of the good things I got out of him was that he usually sees his patients 10 days after surgery and sends them to PT right after that. I told him I didn't have an appointment with my surgeon until almost 3 weeks out and he said he would talk to him to get it moved up for me. Maad amounts of cool! We talked about him being as conservative as possible with the goal of me being a normal, active 33 year old again, who skis, yogas, and hikes. He listened, seemed to really 'hear me' and told me not to worry. I felt immediately better. He also suggested that I try to stay on the crutches, with weight-bearing on my affected leg as tolerated, all the way up to my next appointment with the surgeon. His experience was that those people that listen to this advice progress through physical therapy much better than those who try to push themselves in the first 10-14 days. Given that I now have the "bone"(pardon the punn) of a closer appointment with an expressway to PT, I promised myself right there and then to listen to his advice. Two weeks sucks but is entirely tolerable.

When the time came to be wheeled into surgery, the anaesthesiologist started with a light (so he said) sedative. We picked up my possy (2 surgeons and very nice surgical nurse Sherry) and headed out. Along the way, my surgeon attempted to mess with me by talking about all the great meals he's eaten in the past six months. Are you kidding me? I instructed my nurse to smack him with my medical chart, which she did, although I was careful to point out that she should avoid arms and hands... we needed those!

The surgical room was a bit funky - there were so many pieces of equipment seemingly strewn around the room haphazzardly, I felt like I was in a machine graveyard! The bed I was moving to was a whole other thing entirely. Because they needed to be able to get to my joint and manipulate it freely, it was missing the bed-bit in a number of odd spots, and had lots of weird-looking metal contraptions sticking out of it. Actually, it looked more like a torture device! Anyway, they popped me on that thing and... that was the last thing I remember. I don't even remember them admistering the anaesthetic. Wow, that was some 'light" sedative.

Skip to... recovery. Not much to say there that falls into "good" except for the fact that I wasn't nauseous and I had, aparently, already peed (the thing I needed to do to get me out of there and back up to the Ambulatory thingumy bob).

Skip to... now. Pain mostly gone (except for the expected), head mostly clear, negotiated the trup to the bathroom twice already... cool beans.

Thus ends the good.

THE BAD

OMG! I wasn'r expecting my IV to go in until it was time to be knocked out. That's been my experience in the past and so I wasn't even thinking about it because it's usually like, stab, burn, trickle, sleep - no time to think about the tubes in your hand. But this time I had to have the IV hooked-up in the Ambulatory area mainly because they were going to give me 'breakfast', or a white fluid that masqueraded as breakfast. Thus started the process of finding a suitable vein, which ended up being in the oddest of all places - on the inside of my wrist, down from my thumb. It didn't look like a likely candidate to me but I guess the nurse knew better. In short, it hurt like hell going in and Rosie and Hubby's faces during the process weren't encouraging. Worse still, I looked down when I thought she was done, only to see the thing actually in my arm (something, for sanity's sake, to be avoided at all costs.) A little more freaking out ensued until she covered it with tape but still I was left with the thought that I had to sit there, for who knows how long, with this thing in my arm. I was not a happy camper!!!

Skip to... an alarmingly fast move into the recovery room for pre-surgery prep. It was like, waiting, waiting, waiting and then, suddenly, full speed ahead. Even Hubby looked surprised and a little panicky - this was where I left him and Rosie behind. This was one of the hardest parts of the day, knowing I was on my own from thereon out. I had a really nice 'cheauffer', however, who distracted me by telling me all about her lying, cheating, husband and her pending divorce. Somehow it happened that I was telling her it would be ok. Typical.

Skip to.... waiting, waiting, waiting for my surgeon to show up. Yep, that's right he was late! He gets some leniency because we were in a hospital he doesn't normally operate in (due to my co-surgeon who does all his procedures there) and because there's a lot of construction going on and parking's a bitch, but in total, he made us all cool our heels for 40 minutes!

Skip to... waking up in recovery. OWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWEEEEEEEEEEE! OMGOMGOMG! It really hurt and it wasn't at all the type of pain I was expecting. I was expecting burning, sore, incision-site pain with some other pain on movement. But what I got was an unrelenting, bone-grinding, deep ache. Did not dig this at all. The nurse pumped in some painkiller and knocked a little of the edge off but that didn't last very long. Back in Ambulatory, they gave me a couple of those Norco things but they didn't made a blind bit of difference, even after 45 minutes. My pain level was definitely up around an 8 or so and I was not handling it well. I was in so much pain I couldn't even cry, so much of me was focused on dealing with it. So, I turned to yoga - all I had left. I grabbed a pillow, hugged it into my chest, buried my head and began long deep breathing. Amazingly enough, I managed to breath myself to sleep (on and off), giving me the space I needed to compartmentalize the pain and give the pills a chance to work. I still wound up at around a 4 or 5, but that's like 1/2 of where I was before!

Finally got my crutches delivered and my wheelchair arrived so, before we knew it, it was time to go. It was around 6pm. Not too bad for a 2pm surgery!

Skip to.... being home. Time to do the first bathroom visit. And here is where I get to the most alarming and most unexpected part of this recovery process. I can't pee. At the risk of delivering TMI, my ladies bits are somewhat... um... numb. Fortunately, the co-surgeon had warned me of the possibility of some transient numbness in that area because of the proximity of those nerves to the hip joint. However, he had not been as specific as to explain that peeing may be an issue. I mean, I have the urge, I know it's there ready to be released but... I can't make it come out. Eventually it just sort of, trickles out in spurts but it's not a normal process. This is just the weirdest development. I'm not freaking out... yet... but I'm not digging it at all. Prognosis for how long this will last? Could be 2 days, 2 weeks, or 2 months. Let's hope not the latter. Yikes. Weird, weird, weird.

And yes, folks, I've lost all ability to be coy. You read the blog, you accept the TMI disclaimer by default.

THE UGLY

Blood, blood, blood! My dressing ia literally DRENCHED in it. On top of the dressing is some sort of super-sticky shrink wrap which prevents it from bleeding all over everything but it is not a comforting or pretty sight. Being squeamish, I have been offering up my bloody hip for Hubby's inspection. He seems unalarmed and, as long as that continues, I'll probably manage some semblance of the same. However, we do need to change the dressing in a couple of days (the way it's going, I'm surprised they think it will last that long.). I just can't see that whole process happening without a sedative. Thank God for Hubby but still, the thought of even exposing holes in my hip is panick-inducing at best. One hurdle at a time, I guess. One hurdle at a time.


Well, it's almost 10:30 and I'm feeling a little tired. I'm going to sign off for now and will probably update y'all tomorrow once I get the lay of the land. With a bit of luck I might even be able to find something other than my hip to blog about. We'll see what we can do over here in TV land.

Nightie-night.

Top Ten Things You Don't Want to Hear Before or During Surgery

1 Don't worry. I think it is sharp enough.

2 Let's hurry, I don't want to miss "CSI"

3 Damn! Page 84 of the manual is missing!

4 Everybody stand back! I lost a contact lens!

5 Hand me that...uh...that uh.....thingie

6 Better save that. We'll need it for the autopsy.

7 "Accept this sacrifice, O Great Lord of Darkness"

8 Whoa, wait a minute, if this is her spleen, then what's that?

9 "Ya know, there's big money in kidneys. Hell, she's got two of 'em

10 Come back with that! Bad Dog!





See you on the other side, folks!

T minus 22 and counting

Just 22 hours until my surgery.

I'm due into the hospital to check-in at 11am tomorrow morning and scheduled for surgery at 1pm.

The worst part, prior to that, is the no eating or drinking anything (including, for heavens sake, water) after midnight tonight. What with the nerves, I'll be surprised if I don't throw up pure bile before I get on the operating table. Hubbie and I are going to go to Denny's at 11pm tonight to get something in my stomach as close to the deadline as possible, to try and avoid that situation. Good ole Dennys. At least I'll have the fun of eating whatever I want (hash browns!), knowing that it's going to be 12-24 hours before I probably get to (want to) eat again. It's the small pleasures at this point, you know?

Today was my last morning at the gym. I wonder when the next time I see it will be? E of Gerli Life seemed to get back there at about 6 weeks if I remember rightly. Of course, our paths and timelines will be different, but that puts me at April 22nd-ish for a triumphant return.

Hubbie and I are going to go for a bike ride here in a bit... last one of those for quite some time also.

All these "lasts" are getting pretty depressing... I just want to be out the other side already at this point.

I'll blog again tomorrow before I head out, probably just to take my mind off my dry mouth and growling tummy.

A mini breakthrough

Warning: this post is related to my upcoming surgery. If you're sick-to-death of hearing about it, you are relieved of the obligation to read on.

So, I've been doing some talking to myself. Since I'm not one to listen to advice from others, this is good news - at least someone has the opportunity to knock some sense into me!

I've been talking myself through my fears and concerns about my surgery, weighing what I'm feeling with whether I have real reason to fear it, and trying to understand why it is I'm feeling it - if it's not based on something concrete, what's at the bottom of it, you know?

What I've deduced is that it's all about control. And before we go on here, I'll get this out of the way: Yes, I am a control freak. Now, let's move on.

First, I am going to (reluctantly) give up control of my body (both in the short term for the surgery and in the long-term outcome sense) to a weird surgeon who acts like Vincent D'Onofrio in Law & Order, who talks about spitting in my hip joint (something I forgot to blog... maybe will later), who has never done this surgery before, and seems to tell me all sorts of contradicting things to those told by the ever-so-experienced surgeons-to-the-stars at Cedars Sinai working on 'e' of The Gerli Life. I don't particularly trust him but don't really see that I have any other option at this point. At least the other surgeon who has done this before (lots) will be there - I only wish he was responsibly for my pre- and post-op care too.

(Incidentally, I should point out that I'd probably find something about whatever surgeon was operating on me to distrust. I don't feel this distrust to such an extent that I don't want to move forward, which tells me that it's probably more me than him.)

Secondly, I'm going to have to give up control of my life to my hip and it's timeline for healing. I'm not going to be able to do the same things I can now, or if I can I'll be slower and/or in pain. Showering may be an issue for a while (sniff, sniff - poooo!), spending time with my dogs again may take some time to integrate back into my life, I don't know when I'll drive again (it's my right hip so you sort of need that leg either way - automatic or stick-shift.) I'll have to listen to the recommendations of others about when/how I can progress in my recuperation and listen to my body about when/how fast it's willing to move to the next step. I won't have control over the timeline, the amount of pain, or the help I'll need along the way.

** Pause to breathe **

But, as I attempted walking up the stairs at my house using my cane this morning (surprisingly easier than I thought), here's what I realized: What I wiill regain is the control over the overall situation and outcome relating to my hip again.

The past three years have been filled with on-and-off pain and the past few months/weeks with uncertainty and waiting. Being a not particularly patient person, the latter part has been nothing short of torture - I've been/am still somewhat completely absorbed by it. While Gerli Life was absorbed by the pain and inconvenience of the injury itself, I've been absorbed by putting into place a plan of action to address it.

Waiting is a passive status in which you are (usually) relying on someone else or something else in order to move on. But once I get out of that operating room and get my pain under control, I realized that there will actually be things I can do/control to move me forward through this time in my life. Everything I do from that moment forward puts me one action, hour, day, week, month closer to being better. Whether it's resting or exercising, whether or not the actions will be on my ideal timeline, I am at least getting back control over the resolution.

Right now, I have no control. There was nothing I could do (more than I did) to move my surgery date forward, nothing I can do to get rid of the pain altogether, nothing I can do to eliminate the fear of the many "unknowns" related to surgery and recovery... all I've been able to do is wait.

As of Wednesday afternoon, the unknowns will steadily become knowns (like them or not), and the things I can do to get better will steadily increase. My days of waiting will be over, my days of acting will just be beginning. In a way, I will be back in control of my life.

I can't say with certainty that I'll have this same sense of positivity this time next week but I can tell you that this makes me feel an awful lot better about siging myself into the hospital on Wednesday morning.

My shrinking world

Just four days (inc. today) before surgery. Overall feeling less panicky than I did before - the sense of inevitability, and therefore acceptance, is setting in. Lots to do this weekend to prepare house and home for my disabled homecoming.

Everything I do now is accompanied by the thought of: "I wonder how long it will be before I'll be able to do this again." So glad that the weather is nice (sunny, 68) right now, so I can enjoy being active and outside.

Religion Quiz

Thanks to a stimulating debate on The Gerli Life, I was referred to a for-fun quiz that evaluates which religion or set of beliefs you are most aligned with.

Here are my results:

You fit in with: Humanism

20% spiritual.
80% reason-oriented.

Your ideals mostly resemble that of a Humanist. Although you do not
have a lot of faith, you are devoted to making this world better, in the short time that you have to live.

Un-shocking to most of you that know me, of course. Here is the link to the quiz, if you're interested.

An update on the east coast broker and a DECISION

Well, clearly everyone's standards are different.

I got an email from the broker whose webinar I thought I had bungled on Wednesday, saying that he thought I did a good job. In addition, after viewing the competitor's product on Wednesday, he still called yesterday to request a quote from us. Yay! We may still not win the game but at least we've got a couple more strikes left to get around the bases!

All of this had made me think about something I've mentally toyed with for a while - getting more practice and learning more about presentations and public speaking.

In the past 5 years I've had plenty of opportunities to put myself 'out there' with public speaking but, since I've taken this work-from-home job, I do spend much of my time mute and 'speaking' through the computer (I don't think yelling down the stairs "Shut up!" to my dogs counts).

Over the years I know that I've lost most of the paralyzing fear I used to have about speaking in public but it's still not my strongest skill. I've tried to take workshops to help me develop my presentation/speaking toolkit but have generally found that I have, at best, been closed-off to their methods (usually because I went to them when I was feeling bad about myself and convinced there was no way I was going to be good at this) and anyway unable to find a forum to consistently practice what I had learned.

Strangely, this morning, as I was preparing to write this post, I found that something had moved for me. Instead of thinking about myself as a naturally bad presenter who hated presenting and needed to learn how to get profficient at best, I found myself thinking that it would be fun (yes, this is the key word here - fun) to get more opportunities to practice and become a really good presenter. Suddenly I felt that, not only was I open to acquiring some new tips-and-tricks, but I was willing to and excited about the prospect of take advice and coaching to get there.

This latter comment is pretty big for me. Usually when I am not good at something and I know I need to get better, I embark upon a pretty solitary process of learning. I buy books, I attend classes and workshops, I take mental notes as I watch people I don't know do the 'thing' I'm trying to do (either well or poorly - both equally as helpful.) But what I have a ego-based, pride-based barrier to is receiving coaching and advice from someone I know. I'll try everything else before asking someone I know to help me.

It's not admitting that I'm not good at something - I'm real open about that - it's allowing myself to be laid open enough to someone whose opinion matters to me (someone I know) that will enable not only the giving of advice but, more importantly, the receiving. (At least I know this. I guess it could be worse.)

I realized this was true for me when the thought occurred to me that I should ask my boss (who is an accomplished speaker/salesperson/presenter) to help me get better with this and I didn't get that tightness in my chest that usually indicates a mental/emotional barrier.

So, while I did go online and purchase a book recommended by the American Management Association today (Speak to Win), I also plan to send my boss an email and ask her if she can help me grow in this specific way. My goals? Present with purpose, with confidence, and develop a rapport with the audience.

I feel good about this.

Yay! A positive post!

The carrot

I knew that, if I was going to have this surgery, I had to dangle a carrot in front of myself to get through the ordeal. I don't think most of you need 10 guesses to come up with what kind of carrot I've purchased for myself.

That's right, I've booked my first vacation this year.

Hubbie and I are off to Jamaica for the second time in June! It will be approximately 3 months after my surgery, so I should be mostly mobile and pain free and, since we've been there before, I won't have the urge to go exploring the local towns, zooming across canyons held up only by a metal wire, or climbing the face of a waterfall (which I did last time around.) This means both of us can focus on sunning ourselves, floating in the Carribbean Sea, and sampling the bar's signature cocktails. Delicious. We're even staying in the same all inclusive resort we stayed in last time - Couples, Negril. It's 100% a beach-based relaxation vacation. As the Jamaicans say: "Yeah mon!"

She did it. I didn't.

One girl scored a home-run yesterday while this girl barely managed a bunt.


She did it! :)

How energizing to wake up this morning to hear that Hillary won 3 out of 4 of yeserday's Primaries. I think it's going to be a difficult case to make for her to win the nomination still and I would hate to see her win by scraping together delegates but I'm glad to see that she's not going out with a knockout blow.

I didn't. :(

I had a pretty important sales webinar yesterday for a big broker out east and, for a couple of reasons, I sort of bungled it. It wasn't an out-and-out disaster but it definitely wasn't my best performance. I've done a lot of these things now and have a pretty good patter down - I'm definitely not the world's most gifted salesperson but I know my product and I'm pretty good at building a rapport across the faceless virtual world with my prospect. Despite these things, I sort of fell apart because, for the first time, my boss was sitting in on the webinar with me.

This is totally my problem, not hers. She's a wonderful, gifted person and I certainly have no fears that she'll deliver bruising critiques on my performance. BUT she's a great presenter and a naturally gifted sales person and her opinion matters a lot to me. Knowing this, my usually relaxed, confident presentation style disappeared and in it's place emerged a stumbling, bumbling, amateur who just was trying too hard.

Instead of letting the product speak for itself and confidently selling it's benefits, I practically beat the prospect over the head with our comparisons against the competitio - I'm pretty sure I came across as just a little desperate and as if I was making excuses for our product (which admittedly has some improvements to make in some areas to stand up to one competitor's product - but then it's my job to get past those). I missed benefits, I lost flow, I developed nervous 'repetitive phrases' (I can't remember what it was now but I know I kept repeating the same thing and couldn't stop), I failed to move the meeting forward and got stuck on questions.... in short I did many of the things that I critique other webinar presenters for doing.

I was so disappointed in myself. Not only did I miss a key oppportunity to make a good first impression with this client, I left my boss with the impression that I've been giving 3rd-rate webinars for the past 12 months. I know, if I was her, I would be thinking: Wow, how much more business would we have closed if she could improve this webinar?

I spent all morning being determined to pretend this was just any other webinar, that I wouldn't think about her being there, and then failed to pull it off. I hate that. And it's just plain stupid - it's a self-created phobia based upon nothing truly solid - I can do it, I've been doing it for a year, and I like my boss. What the hell is my problem!?

Done now

Done feeling sorry for myself. Vomited it onto this blog and all over you, my poor reader(s?). Cathartic. Moving on.

One week to go...

Lab Results Back

4 vials of blood later and all seems good... except I have a low potassium level. That's a new one for me. My doctor's advice is to drink a glass of orange juice or eat a banana each day.

Now that's the kind of treatment I can get onboard with.

Puppies and other Tuesday morning stuff

My breakfast burrito was interrupted this morning by a report on Good Morning America about a marine who has been videotaped apparently throwing a puppy off a cliff in Iraq - just for kicks. The puppy reportedly yelped all the way down until it hit the ground.

***pause to regain composure***

A poor, defenseless, inoocent puppy, killed just to create transient entertainment for a nintendo-weaned U.S. soldier.

I cried. That's right. I cried. What the hell? Sure, it's sad, but crying!!!!!? Not me. Not that there is anything wrong with a good weep, it's just that it's not something I am given to doing over something on the tv. Usually I reserve my tears for personal tragedies and frustrations. It's not a control issue (really it's not) it's just that I normally don't feel the need to cry for anything else. It doesn't mean I'm heartless - I still feel things deeply - it just doesn't normally turn into an eye-waterfall.

It's this stupid surgery, it has to be. . I think it had a lot to do with a post I read on The Gerli Life - she who is recovering from the op I'm about to subject myself to. I had asked 'e' a question about her emotional/mental state after her injury, since she had addressed a lot of the physical symptoms and processes she has been going through, but little of what the impact has been on her and her life.

What she wrote was very interesting on a disassociated level - I have much admiration for her attitude to this challenge - but on a personal level, it was more like a confirmation of what I didn't want to hear. I'm really glad that 'e' has learned so much about herself throughout this process but I just don't want to go through this process of self-reflection. It's just too much. I mean, it's just a friggin' hip for chrissakes (one part of my body) and it doesn't even hurt that much. Why can't I just have the surgery, recover for a few days in hospital, and be done with it? Why does everything have to involve this painful and frustration process of personal epiphanies?

Ok, so it may not be the same for me - 'e' and I are not the same person with the same bodies or the same lives going in - but it's the fear of it being like this for me that's really weighing on my mind.

I'm at a great place in my life right now - with my marriage, my financial situation, my job, my house, who I am... everything. I feel like I just came out the other side of a seemingly endless and painful tunnel to get here and I don't want to go back in or have to take time out of my wonderful life, to dig myself out.

Pre-Pre Op - CHECK

Today was the Pre-Pre Op. (Not to be confused with the "Pre-Op", which I already had, or the "Pre-Pre-Pre op, which I'll have on Wednesday.)

Today I had to fast for 12 hours (hell), give blood (hell), meet with the surgeon (pointless), and get a chest x-ray (a helluva long wait for a hellauva short process.) This took up my whole morning from 7:45am until lunch.

Let's see... what did I learn today as a result of my morning at the medical center?

1. I still don't like needles and giving blood does hurt. 3 or 33... this phobia's a lifer.
2. If I wasn't laying down I would have fainted giving blood.
3. My surgeon is more impatient than me and is, in fact, a little weird. If he had said "So... what questions do you have?" or some other variation of that in order to wrap-up our rushed consultation one more time, I think I would have beaten him over the head with the plastic femur on the table. He also has this bizarre, almost-gay, almost a little-mad, nervous-energy, geekiness to him. He won't look you in the eye when he talks to you (disturbing) and constantly doodles on the paper covering the bed. You know who he reminds me of? A black Vincent D'Onofrio from Law & Order: Criminal Intent. This is not good - isn't that guy supposed to be borderline schizo?
4. The waiting room wait-time is directly disproportionate to how long it takes to do the test.
5. The sight of sick people hacking-up so much phlegm they almost choke and/or proudly displaying their swollen, mishapen naked foot, in the diagnostics waiting area SKEEVES ME OUT.
6. Pregnancy is a scary thing. While I was in diagnostics, a young, pregnant woman and her husband walked in with worried looks on their faces and waited for their ultrasoung, silently standing against the wall, nervously twitching, and generally on-edge. I saw them go in but never come out. I hope everything turned out ok for them.

And there you have it.

Surgery is just 9 days away now. Just 9 days of being normal, active, independent me.

Ironically, my hip has been the best it's been in... forever... lately. Barely any pain, loose as goose-grease (thank Hubbie for that delightful expression), full range-of-motion... it's almost like it's daring me to think it's not worth putting myself through this 8-12 weeks of hell for. Don't worry, I'm not listening to it. I have my fingers firmly in my ears and am singing "Laaa laaaa laaa laaa laaaaa, I am not listening to you, laaa laa laaa laaaaaaa!" at the top of my internal voice.

What is WRONG with this country?

Sometimes, no matter how 'Americanized' I've become, I have moments where I realize that my mindset and values still are rooted about 6,000 miles east of here.

Two recent 'polls' have made me want to tear my hair out and wonder how on earth this country ever got to be such a 'super' power.

POLL 1
Fox News

Nearly twice as many Democratic voters think Hillary Clinton is "very qualified" as think her main rival, Barack Obama, is ready for the nation’s top job. (Clinton 37% to Obama's 18%). Yet, they're even in terms of who gets the actual vote.

I don't get it. We want to elect someone unqualified?

The emphasis on personality, charisma, and likeability in the Presidential elections out here is out of control. We vote for Presidents with the same criteria and gravitasse of decision as when we vote for the People's Choice Awards. We would rather elect someone unqualified because we like them, than elect someone into office who we perhaps wouldn't invite over for dinner. It's a popularity contest, which explains how we got George Bush in the first place. Why I'm surprised, I don't know.

POLL 2
Sacramento Business Journal

Through a new bill in the state legislature, California is trying to become the only state in the nation to guarantee paid sick days for all workers. (Shockingly, this isn't already law.)

So, the Sacramento Business Journal started an online poll to find out if employers should be required to offer their employees sick leave.

Here are the results:

• Yes, because employees, especially lower-income workers, deserve sick time: 34%
• No, mandatory sick-pay increases the cost for employers and hurts the economy: 58%
• Not sure: 7%

Okay, maybe it's not the world's most scientific poll, and yes this is a Business Journal, but I was still just taken aback by the results - I seriously thought that the results were going to be the a complete 180 on what they were.

Oh, how naive I can still be at 33. (Is that a rhyme?)

Screw those lazy, sick workers... it'll hurt our bottom-line!

WHERE IS THE COMPASSION PEOPLE? Have we all forgotton how to take care of each other in this world? Is it really every man and woman for themselves?

Outed!

Oh boy, is America's name mud over there in Britland.

An American website, the Drudge Report, broke the media blackout over Prince Harry's deployment to Afganistahn, forcing him to return home. Now the American media is being maligned as generally reckless and desperate to own a story at any cost - even the cost of human life. You should have heard my parents on the phone last night!

While I think it was certainly irresponsible to put Harry and his squadron in danger just to be the first to release the story, I hardly think that The Drudge Report is representative of the American media in general. Nor am I surprised that an American news outlet (mainstream or not) is particularly thrilled about being gagged just because Harry is a member of the British Royal Family.

While we're on the subject of the Royals, I have to say I'm ticked. What started off as a 5 hour BBC Special on a "Year with the Royal Family" has been condensed into a one hour, MTV-style edited special on ABC this coming Monday, hosted by Barbara Walters - who wasn't even part of the filming and didn't interview a single Royal for the special. One year, condensed to 5 hours, condensed to 1 hour, and then no-doubt interrupted by 20 minutes of commercials and another 20 minutes of BW asserting her 'journalistic superiority' while chattering endless about something she knows nothing about, between "clips" from the BBC special, no doubt carefully selected to only include the most salacious filming. Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.

The pre-pre-pre op

Turns out that the appointment I had today was only the pre-pre-pre op.

Today's pre-op was with my Doctor, who hooked me up to the EKG, told me I was having a heart attack, and then let me go.

Monday, I have a pre-op with the surgeon, a blood test, and a chest xray.

Wednesday, I have a pre-op with the pre-op nurse to... ok, I don't know. I can't imagine what else can pre-op the op.

I get that preparation is key to a successful procedure and all that but can't there be one pre-op appointment, in one place, that takes care of everything?

Yep, this is much more efficient than a single-payer, government run, healthcare system. NOT.

I'm having a heart attack

Well, not really, but that's what this morning's EKG said.

I started to get worried when the usually chatty nurse administering the test looked at the printed results with a tight-lipped frown. She folded the piece of paper in half (presumably in case I was actually able to understand anything by the little wavy lines) and left the room for the doctor.

When my doctor came in, she announced with glee: "Hello! How are you? I mean, aside from the heart attack you're having right now?"

It turns out that the stupid EKG machine often reads a deep breath as a heart attack.

Am I the only one who is just a bit concerned by this?

Anyway, I thought today was the day for my chest x-ray and grab-a-gallon blood test (The Gerli Life said she has 4 vials taken for her pre-op) but it turns out I'll have to do that on Monday. My doctor figures that, if she's going to "stick me" (as she so delicately puts it) then she's going to make it worth my while and get the full gamut of tests for a regular physical, as well as whatever the surgeon needs to clear me for the operation. I love her. She's sharp, witty, funny, hip, and her bedside manner is so me. She's actually the kind of person I could picture myself hanging out with socially.

In other news, I dropped my bluetooth headset in my coffee cup this morning. I bent over to pick up my coffee and it dropped right off my ear and went plop. I fished it out pretty rapidly, dried it off and shook it around a bunch - so far it seems to have survived it's java adventure.

Oscar Dress Picks

For the first time in a long time, I hadn't seen a majority of the Oscar movies this year. Therefore, I'm unable to rejoyce or rant about the various merits of the winners. So, all that's left is to congratulate or criticize all the size 2 women dressed in frocks that probably cost more than I make in a year...

BEST DRESSED

It's a tie between Kerri Russell and Cate Blanchett for moi. Kerri Russel looked beautiful in a pearl-colored dress with clean lines and a simple up-do. And Cate Blanchet managed to look radiant and unique despite being ready to pop!

I also give props to Heidi Klum (dramatic Hollywood goddess) and Hillary Swank (doing simple right.)

WORST DRESSED

The entire Day-Lewis clan. Oh dearie me! From head-to-toe, a complete disaster. Thank goodness he picked a profession where he spends most of his time being dressed by professionals.

Diablo Cody, writer of Juno. It looks a little... edgy... here but when she walked up on stage to receive her Oscar for best original screenplay, the whole thing unwrapped from her legs, almost all the way up to her groin, forcing her to clamp it shut as she walked. It made her look very uncomfortable and awkward. Form and function, dearie.

Most Disappointing Award goes to George Clooney's girlfriend, Sarah Larson, who looked like she pulled down her mother's curtains at the last minute. Oh dear, Sarah. You are beautiful but if you're going to be on the arm of that delicious man, you're just going to have to do better!

Also in the Worst Dressed camp was Cameron Diaz (messy), and Tilda Swinton (oh-so-out-there and not a good rep for the Brits).

Thanks to JustJared.com for the pics.

"I should be able to leave things on the side!"

These were the words out of Hubbbie's mouth after Maggie devoured a Cadbury's chocolate egg, stolen off the top of our 3ft high book case.

Now, I think it was one chocolate egg - who knows, it could have been ten. I had just got back from Starbucks and Hubbie was up in the shower, leaving the dogs unsupervised in the family room with an open packet of chocolate eggs teasing them, just a nose-sniff away.

As of right now, Maggie doesn't seem to be displaying any strange behavior that might indicate that she is about to go into a mouth-frothing seizure as a result of chocolate toxicity.... but then, it's Maggie, so how would you tell?

More to the point, however, episodes like this make me shake my head for poor Hubbie - and there have been a few of these episodes in our relationship. For instance, the time he left his bacon double cheeseburger and fries on the outside table, in the company of Frankie (my other dog) while he went outside to his car to get his soda. Of course, when he got back, said delish burger was inside Frankie's thankful tummy.

Poor Hubbie - if we ever have kids it's going to be a whole new world for him. Can you imagine him trying to use the same expression - I should be able to leave things on the side - after our child has permanent markered stick figures all over the living room wall?

I HAVE A DATE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

This squeaky wheel is getting her grease.

I finally have a date for surgery - March 12th @ 1pm. So, 19 days of non-recovery life left, and counting...

I cannot even BEGIN to tell you what a relief this is. Ok, I probably don't need to tell you - you're probably only too glad to have the prospect of a post or two that's not related to my damn hip and/or surgeon. Don't think I haven't noticed the absence of comments on my posts. :(

Anyway, it's 4:17pm on a Friday and I'm drinking a damn martini. Time to celebrate... while I can.

My product on TV

Remember about a week or so ago I told you I was speaking to a researcher/reporter for ABC's Nightline? Well, Nightline just aired a segment featuring my 'media-star' President, Michael Lyon, and I wanted to share: http://abcnews.go.com/Video/playerIndex?id=4321864

The graphs he is showing on the screen are the product that I sell. Hey, I'm like almost famous on national TV.

Yesterday we got a book author contact us for quotes for her book on short sales and REOs (Real Estate Owned properties).

We're like hot property people!

Class Act

For those of you who have some kind of inexplicable, unfounded, personal dislike for Hillary Clinton, or who use words like "bitch" when referring to her... Put this in your pipe and smoke it. This was CLASSY.

Gross

Is it bad that I can balance my coffee cup on top of my stomach while sitting in my nifty Ikea chair?

No, I am not 'secretly' preggers. Sadly, this would at least be a legitimate excuse for said belly-shelf.

Getting closer to a date

I called the surgeon again today. It's been 2 weeks since my 'light-at-the-end-of-the-tunnel' conversation with him, where he told me on a Thursday that someone would call me the following Monday to schedule a date for my procedure. The light has been getting smaller ever since.

2 phone-calls to his scheduler ago (Wednesday of last week) I was told he hadn't handed the scheduling paperwork in yet. She asked me when I would be available for the surgery so she could make some notes on my file. I said "Now! I'll get in the car right now if you want me to." The nice scheduling lady, Christie, said she was printing up my file, attaching a scheduling sheet on top of it, and putting it in his inbox as a 'subtle' reminder. Cool, my kind of chick.

Still, it got to Friday of last week and nothing. I called again, leaving poor Christie a message, bemoaning about how my life was literally 'up in the air', 'on hold', 'on-pause', without a surgery date. I'm sure she's heard it all before (and more) - I even acknowledged that on my message -but I guess it doesn't hurt to try for the sympathy vote, especially when you're on the verge of getting the 'impatient and annoying' vote.

When this morning rolled around and yet again I found myself reading jealously about the progressive recovery of 'e' of Gerli Life fame (who recently had exactly the same surgery done), my frustration was bordering on tear-inucing. So, as we know already, I called again.

Still no paperwork! WTF!? This was presented as practically a 'done deal' 2 weeks ago.

Christie tried to put me through to the surgeon's nurse to find out what the hold-up was but she didn't pick up. Then, bless her, she got out of her chair, marched back to the doctor's rooms and found Mr. Surgeon himself. She asked him if there was a reason why she didn't have my paperwork yet. His answer? He hadn't filled it out yet. OMG! Again, WTF? You've got to be kidding me. I've been waiting 2 weeks for him to put pen to paper?

And so she put the paperwork in his hand, he promised to fill it out, and she promised to call me soon with a date.

Not so quick! said I. How long will this process take? We've already established that I'm an impatient patient (an oxymoronic phrase if ever I heard one) and so I'd like to avoid calling you twenty times and driving you mad. Can you give me a timeline?

Friday, she said.

I'll call on Monday.

Destructojaws strikes again

I just purchased a very fancy Tablet Mouse, you know the kind with the pen so you can actually "draw" on your computer (not literally, of course.)

This afternoon my dog, Maggie, ate it. Literally. All that was left was a sliver of plastic and the AA battery.

I'm leaving her out for the racoons and coyotes tonight.

'Coons and Coyotes

It's like a freakin' wildlife sanctuary around here.

The other morning we woke up to find that the pink storage tub on our deck, the one that contains Maggie's food, was opened and alarmingly large footprints were leading away from the outside water dish. This morning, at about 2am, I was jolted awake by the sound of something hitting the ground on our deck. After going down to investigate, Hubbie returned a little gobsmaked - he had captured (not literally) a 40lb racoon digging into the tub and, when challenged (by the rattling of the door handle), it had disappeared beneath our deck.

Now, just as a quick reality check, our largest dog is a 35lb Cocker Spaniel. Needless to say it's a little alarming to realize that your greatest line of defense (outside of your snoring husband) is outweighed by the predator and your 25lb puppy could very well present it's tasty supper.

Neither was my alarm helped much by the fact that, just before he slipped back into dreamland, Hubbie worried allowed that the racoon could get in through our doggie door. Of course, despite this thought passing through his head on the way up the stairs, he didn't think to close off said doggie door. So, until 3am this morning I lay there waiting to hear the "flap-flap" of the doggie door as the racoon came in to watch tv on the leather couch while lying in wait for a tasty puppy to present itself. I guess I could have gone downstairs myself to close it off but part of me was a little concerned about what might greet me. (Yes, your imagination can run into overdrive at 2am).

And yes, I know, it's unlikely that the racoon would actually eat either of my dogs but I've heard those things can get pretty ferocious when cornered. For instance, my mother in law woke up one morning to see her full-grown German Shepherd trying to shake one that had mounted him and was hanging on to his back with it's claws.

Now, this evening, we were talking over the fence to our neighbors who decided to warn us about the pair of coyotes that hang out just over the fence at the bototm of our yard. Don't let your dogs out at night alone, they told us.

Ok folks, I'll cop to having moved 8 miles east, 8 miles further out from the city and onto the very edges of suburbia, but you would have thought we had landed in the foothills! I guess there's a cloud to every silver lining and the flip-side to enjoying the beautiful greenbelt and creek at the bottom of our yard, is that it not only produces cute, scampering squirrels and quirky gangs of turkies, but also their predators.

So, the best I can hope for is that the coyotes chase down the racoons. Hopefully, the racoons aren't actually living underneath the deck (which is unlikely but possible because I'm pretty sure even my hopeless pups would smell that) in which case the coyotes will be baying for their blood at the bottom of our deck while we recoil beyond the patio doors, our dogs hiding behind our pajama pants.

Pray for us.

Bleak, bleak, bleak

The CEO of Lyon Real Estate here in Sacramento (the company I used to work for) and who is also the President of the company I work for now, is a bit of a media whore. I say this with the greatest fondness because he is just an awesome man in so many ways and I am blessed to have been working for him in some capacity for the last 5-6 years.

Recently he did an interview for ABC's Nightline (which has yet to air) but last night he was on our local TV station KCRA3, talking about the state of the local housing market.

Here is the link to that interview. Michael has been in real estate since the day he was born practically, and his father founded Lyon in 1946, so this is a guy who really knows what he is talking about.

In summary, things are pretty flippin' bleak. Thank goodness I don't have to sell a house right now.

Happy Things

To counteract the bitching, negative me of the previous post I wanted to share two things that tickled my happy or funny bone today.

1) I think I have secured a MASSIVE client at work that will generate almost $100,000 in annual revenue and put a little bit of change in my pocket too. I still need to draw up the contract (and Lord knows I've been caught counting my chickens before they've hatched before) but it looks 99% positive. All I have to say is WOOHOO!

2) I got an emai from Howard Dean of the DNC today (yeah, he emails me all the time for my advice; I'm so the political guru). The email was targeted toward starting the attack campaign against the Republican's presumptive nominee, John McCain. Here is an excerpt that just really tickled my funny bone.

Don't be fooled, John McCain isn't a "maverick" at all. He's loved by the media, but he'll be a disaster for our country.He's been a vocal supporter of George Bush's strategy in Iraq, and he's said that he wants to be there for another hundred years. He's committed to appointing judges who will overturn Roe v. Wade and privatizing Social Security. And he's admitted that he doesn't understand the economy, which would leave millions of Americans struggling to make ends meet.

He's so bad that U.S. News and World Report recently revealed that the White House is thrilled to have John McCain picking up where they're leaving off...

He's so bad, he's almost BUSH people!!!!!

Never was a more unifying battle cry uttered to a group of liberals.

Okay, so this wasn't such a 'happy thing' if you're one of the four remaining Bush fans in the country, but it sure gave this little Dem a giggle.

As a footnote: I actually have a lot of respect for McCain. I agree with him on next-to nothing but he seems the kind of guy who doesn't create his positions based upon the diretion of the political wind. When he believes in something he seems to stand up for it and passionately defend it. Imminently better than Mr. Slimball himself, Romney, and unlike Huckabee it seems he actually has knowledge of something other than the Bible. (Did you hear the speech where Huckabee claimed that Pakistan had a border with the U.S.?)

Of course, the fact (as a Democrat) that I like McCain, is exactly his problem. Oh well, I guess all the conservatives will just have to stay home. Shame.

A new favorite blog

I wanted to share with you a new favorite blog of mine, Opinions for Nothing.

As someone who is pretty opinionated myself and who loves a good debate, I just love the whole premise of this blog - state an opinion or pose a question and then have a knock-em-sock-em, intelligent, war-of-words debate on the issue.

I'll be posting it on my links to the right but wanted to give you the opportunity to lake a looksie for yourself.

Let me know what you think!

TV

Grrrrrrrrr. Arrrgggggggh. Ack. Pffffft. Sigh.

I feel like I have ants running through my veins lately and I have no idea why. Ok, that's not strictly true, I have a list of several things that could be causing said problem but I can't get to the real bottom of it right now, if there really is a bottom.

I'm impatient (with myself, everyone and everything), easily bored, easily distracted, easily tired, easily angered, easily frustrated... basically conjure up every negative emotion you can think of, throw it in a big mixing bowl, turn on the Cuisinart, and you've just stepped into my skin. Oh, and I forgot the ants... they're in there too. (Ok, I'm mixing metaphors and not doing a very good job at it. See, I told you - easily distracted! I can't even stick with a metaphor.)

I think that some of it comes down to this hip thing. (Yes, feel free to click-over to another blog about now. I know you've heard just about as much of my right hip as you can take.) If I'm honest, I'm pissed that I put off addressing the surgery for so long. If I had done the original surgery that was recommended to me back in June of '06, this would all be well and truly over by now. Instead I put it off because it 'got in the way' of my life plans.

Well, you know what I've figured out? It's going to get in the way of my life plans no matter when I do it. There really is no good time and all that stuff about weddings, and vacations, and job changes, and bosses on maternity leave... it was a load of crap. They were all lame, scared-me excuses and all I managed to do by conjuring them up was to put off the inevitable. And when I say "scared" I don't mean the surgery itself. That's like 'whatever' - they're going to put me out and there might be pain for a couple of days after but, again, whatever. What really scares the living daylights out of me is the thought of being physically limited for 3+ months.

My ability to do what I want, when I want, how I want, is the most prized element of my life. (Ergo I don't have kids yet.) The thought of turning that control over to someone or something else for an extended period of time just sends me into a 'tizwaz', as we like to say in England. (You know, America, you really lack some good tongue-in-cheek words for describing distress.) Struggling with simple things like getting up the stairs to take a shower, having to use canes or crutches, no traveling, no working out... and this lasting for 3-4 months. It sounds like the ultimate nightmare to me.

And all I can do is think that it would all be over already if I'd taken care of this 2 years ago.

So, now my goal is to try and whip through this process as fast I absolutely possibly can and what have I been doing for the last 3 months? Waiting for doctors and surgeons to get their act together. I was decided 3 months ago that I wanted to get this surgery taken care of but instead of just getting on with it and calling the surgeon who originally diagnosed my problem and getting me on the schedule, x-rays had to be repeated, each doctor had to put his 2 cents-worth in on the possible diagnoses and treatments, and then I had to spend 2 weeks pushing my surgeon to consider a less-invasive procedure.

And you know where I've ended up after all this? BACK WITH THE SAME FRIGGIN' SURGEON I STARTED OFF WITH, GETTING THE SAME SURGERY HE ORIGINALLY RECOMMENDED!

Now, only it's 3 months later and instead of being 90% through my recovery I'm still waiting for a date for my surgery.

Ok, so I guess I do know why those little ants are crawling around under my skin. I'm pissed at myself and I'm impatient to move things along.

Get me on the goddamned schedule already and let's get this thing over with!!!

Yes, I feel a little better, thanks.

I'm glad I'm not alone

While I've been actively trying to avoid rants of the political nature this year, I had to finally put in my 2 cents about this "economic stimulus plan".

First of all, I don't want or need a tax rebate. I didn't ask for it and I'm not in dire financial straits. Secondly, while everybody and their mother is getting a government handout, the President has the audacity to propose a $3 trillion budget that freezes vitally needed domestic programs, while increasing defense spending to their highest levels since the cold war - and all to support a war that clearly is unwinnable in the long run. (Yes, the violence is down but what exactly has been solved other than suppressing attacks?)

Let's face it, $600 or even $1200 for a couple really doesn't add up to much in most parts of the country anymore. If you're lucky it's one month of rent or one mortgage payment, or a few months of health insurance - although that's nice and all, it's not like it's going to save anyone from financial ruin. At best it's a stop-gap that postpones the inevitable.

However, I'm not stupid. I understand exactly why the government is giving me and others like me $$$: they want me to head out to the store to buy a flat-screen TVs because the US economy is driven 70% by consumer spending.

You know what, though? Flat screens are lovely but education, healthcare, roads, public transportation, and public services for me and my unborn kid(s) is infinitely more important than whether I can see "House" in High-Def.

I feel like we're squandering the future of generations to come for short-term fiscal band-aids and instant gratification spending and it pisses me off.

There are people out there who desperately need government assistance for one reason or another and for them this is all a 1-2 punch: Give people who don't necessarily need it a fat check so they can buy discrentionary items, send the rest of our money across the other side of the world to secure the oil and support dictators (in the meantime building a larger army of America-haters), and freeze (essentially cutting when you take into account inflation) domestic programs that help people at home.

It's short-sighted, heartless and just plain stupid.

I don't suppose I'll get much of a tax rebate because of the income restrictions but whatever I do get I plan to donate to a charity or non-profit. I have to imagine that's more needed than that flat-screen TV that will keep Best Buy's profits up. If you don't need your tax rebate I encourage you to do the same.

Aparently I'm not the only one who thinks this "stimulous" package is a dumb idea. The Sacramento Business Journal posted an online poll this week and here are the results:

What do you think of the economic stimulus plan?

It's not enough 25%

It's too much 25%

It sends money to the wrong places; if the payments were concentrating on those with low income and in unemployment benefits, the cash would go back into the economy faster. 50%

Exactly.

What will do with your tax refund? Vote in my poll to the right.

Dead at Desk

Cripes. How sad that nobody even noticed!

Friday Fun

SCATTERGORIES - it's harder than it looks!

Use the first letter of your first name to answer each of the following.They have to be real places, names, things - nothing made up. Try to use different answers if the person in front of you had the same first initial - which by the way is hard if you already have read their answers! You cannot use your own name for the boy/girl names.

1. What is your name? M******* (Sorry, don't use my name on my blog)
2. A 4 letter word: Must
3. A vehicle: Murano
4. A city: Montpellier
5. A boy's name: Matthew
6. A girl's name: Molly
7. Alcoholic drink: Martini (shock, huh?)
8. An occupation: Marketer
9. Something you wear: Mittens (not that I have, for a long time, actually worn mittens)
10. A celebrity: Matt Damon - who is just as yummy as...
11. A food: Mashed Potatoes
12. Something found in a bathroom: Mirror
13. Reason for being late: Maggie (my dog) ate my car (I wouldn't put it past her)
14. Something you shout: "My God!" (usually after my dog eats something of value like, for instance, my car)
15. An animal: mouse
16. A body part: Mouth
17. Word to describe yourself: Magnificent! (perhaps "Modest" would have been a better fit?)

Hipppeeeee!

I take it all back, Sacramento. I was being hystrionic.

I finally got to speak with my surgeon this afternoon and the news is good-good-good! The beacon of light I hoped was coming indeed illuminated my world.

My surgeon has located another orthopedic surgeon locally who does the procedure I need (the full, 100% solution) arthroscopically about 5-6 times a month. That surgeon has agree to do the surgery with my surgeon (as co-surgeons, who knew?) which means that I would still be my current surgeon's patient (good new insurance-wise) but get the expertise of someone experienced in this procedure actually doing it. In addition, my surgeon would get to assist and, in the process, learn the procedure.

Talk about a win-win!

To top it all off, I've discovered that the 2nd surgeon is the same doctor that diagnosed my labral tear initially, almost 2 years ago! Talk about full-circle. Unwittingly, I seem to have made things harder for myself by changing my PCP mid-way through this process. Not that I regret moving to my new PCP one iota... the timing was just off.

I should get a call early next week to schedule the surgery and it will take place locally, about 8 miles away from where I live. I'm guessing it might take a little bit longer to get on the schedule, however, since we're now trying to coordinate two surgeon's busy schedules... BUT WHO CARES!?

I was so relieved when I heard the news that I actually burst into tears. So unlike me, huh? I guess I hadn't realized how much this had been on my mind (although looking back over my blog posts about this, I'm guessing this comes as no surprise to you!)

Living in Sacramento may screw me

Things are not looking good for my hip surgery in Sacramento.

Through my own research and from referrals provided by 'e' of The Gerli Life's surgeon in L.A., I am beginning to suspect that there are no orthopedic surgeons in the Sacramento area that perform Arthroscopic Femoro-Acetabular Surgery.

There seems to be one in San Francisco who is the holy grail of hip arthroscopy, Dr. Samson, who was not only recommended by another local orthopedic surgeon who I contacted but was also recommended by e's surgeon. Then there are two more that are located in Redwood City and Stamford.

Now, I don't know for sure, but I'm guessing my health insurance is not going to cover a referral out to one of them.

Based upon information I've been able to glean from some reputable sources on the intranet (orthopedic surgeon societies, health-care providers etc...) it seems that, although this procedure has been common in Europe for 10-15 years, it has not been widely embraced by orthopedic surgeons in the U.S. where it has only really caught on in the last 5-7 years. No specific reason was given for this and I've been unable to find anything that tells me that open surgery (other than being obviously less tricky for the surgeon due to mechanics) is any more effective in the short or long-term than the same procedure done arthroscopically. In fact, all evidence points toward the arthroscopic procedure providing the same short- and long-term benefits but with the advantage of less trauma, a faster recovery time, and (in someone my age and with my active lifestyle) a better chance of returning to former levels of activity.

So, the fact still remains that I'm not going to do open surgery, no matter what the outcome of the referral/insurance conundrum.

Hopefully, if/when my surgeon calls me back today, he has some beacon of light to offer me - maybe someone locally who is less well known but who has been doing this for a while, or perhaps some information on one of the out-of-town surgeons who perform local procedures periodically or something. Yes, I'm grasping at straws. Even if I can get it done locally (which is really just a matter of overcoming geography: ie, no real obstacle) there's nothing to say my PCP can refer me to that person and my insurance will cover me. Of course, I am surmising and may be overcomplicating the situation based upon no solid information right now.

Typical: if I lived in England, I could probably get this done on the NHS. (Yes Mum, I have considered just coming home to get it done.)

Christmas in February

One of the many benefits of working from home is that you can invite your friends and their babies over for nice little lunch-and-play dates.

Today it was the turn of my friend, Mala, and her 11 month-old daughter, Evani. We hadn't seen each other since before Christmas and so we decided to do Christmas in February instead. Well, any time is good for giving prezzies, right?

Evani is learning to talk and is picking up words on-the-fly like crazy (Mala, be careful what you scream-out when Shomeek is pissing you off!) Today we went from her one word "aight" for "light" and progressed to "apple" (which she said about a nano-second after Mala concluded that word would be too hard - Ha! What do you know, Mom?!) and then "oook" and "booo" for "book". Occasionally we even managed to get something that sounded more like "boooooooooookkkkkk". Mostly, it was fascinating to watch how Evani learned the sounds... not by listening, it seemed, but by watching and aping the shape of your mouth as you formed the word. It was really cute because what, more often than not, came out of copying our mouths when we said "boooook", was a sucking, shushing, "ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo" sound.

Ya know, 60 minutes at my house and the kid is a linguistic genius!



"A is for Apple. B is for Book. C is for Calcutta..."

(Ok, she didn't say that last one but that is where she'll be spending her birthday, so maybe she'll be saying it by the time she gets back.)

Unexpected social night

I just got a call from my friend, Joe, who has an extra ticket to Stars on Ice tonight. He very kindly invited me to join him and his friends. Yaaay! I'm so excited because I love ice skating and hardly ever get to go to these things.

This unexpected outing has the added benefit of distracting me from the Primary Results. I have promised myself not to listen to any news or results until tomorrow morning. Much better to be hit with the complete set of good or bad news in one foul swoop rather than riding the media roller-coaster ride of moment-to-moment score-cards by state. I did it for New Hampshire and I have to say it was worse that watching a sporting event for your favorite team.

I have heard Obama won Georgia almost 2-1, though...

Gotta whip-snap to it. Have to be dressed and outta here in an hour.

Ewwwwwwwwwwwwww!

Is this a FRENCH salad!?!



Thank you (I think) to my friend, Joy, who supplied the cringe-inducing image of the day. Since she is now working for the CA Dept. of Public Health, I have a feeling this is going to be just one of many such delightful images.

An informal referral

Because I'm super impatient, I decided to do some online research regarding my surgical options, emailing some local orthopedic surgeons who perform hip surgeries.

I finally got a reply from one of them today and they referred me out to a surgeon in San Francisco, Dr. Thomas G. Sampson. I'm getting the feeling that little ole Sacramento doesn't have the wealth of experienced ortho surgeons to perform this procedure... disadvantages of living in a po-dunk city I guess.

Of course, I could be wrong (in which case I apologize in advance to Sac). Hopefully my surgeon will call me tomorrow with some more hopeful news. I can only imagine the health-care maze I'll have to go through to get a covered referral to a doctor in SF - if it's even possible!

SUPER TUESDAY

GO HILLARY!

And that's all I have to say about that.

Yes We Can

In posting the previous video clip I came across this one. Although I'm supporting his opponent, even I have to admit that it's hard NOT TO be inspired by this. The very fact that a speech of a modern-day politician has been turned into a music video already speaks volumes about why Obama may come out of Super Tuesday on-top. I for one am excited that young people are being inspired to participate in the political process and relieved that it's a Democrat that's doing it. I believe in Hillary but would have to be deaf, dumb, and blind not to sense the undercurrent of hope and excitement surrounding Obama. Let's hope that, if chosen, he can deliver on his great expectations.

Frozen Grand Central

This is pretty crazy. I don't know what I would have thought if I had seen this! All I know is that I probably couldn't have stayed as still as these folks for that long!

New hair!

Hola!

Time to share the new "do" with y'all.

This is me sitting at my desk here in my home office. Yep, the 'raw' vixen... no makeup and all. Contrary to popular belief I am not (typically) in my PJs or birthday suit. This is as 'raw' as it gets.

For those of you who have absolutely no idea what changed: I had about 5 inches off and went back to a brunette with highlights. I was sick to death of that brassy blond color.

Hope you likey!

I already love it... my blow-drying time is cut in half. It's a wonderful thing.

Thanks to Ms. Julie

I received a link to an Aetna study on open and arthroscopic treatment of Femoro-Acetabular Impingement from Ms. Julie in comments. It adds to the ongoing debate about the relative merits of open vs. arthroscopic surgery for this condition.

This is the link: http://www.aetna.com/cpb/medical/data/700_799/0736.html Be warned, it's dry and long.

In summary, the report seems to conclude that both open and arthroscopic surgery for this condition are considered experimental and that evidence of any long-term benefits (including the impact on future chances of Osteoarthritis) from one or the other procedure, is thin on the ground. Futher, it recognizes the benefit of arthroscopy over open surgery to increase not only the speed of recovery time but also the ability for active individuals to return to previous levels of activity.

This only further confirms my decision to move forward with an arthroscopic procedure; without significant evidence to prove any radically different outcome either in the long or short term, I see no reason to put my hip through the trauma of open surgery at this point in my life.

The question now is whether I can find someone who will do the debridement arthroscopically. If I am going to be opened up at all for any reason, I want to get the most impact from that experience that I can.

Tickled my funny bone today

So completely random, you can't help but laugh!

WooHooooooooooooooooooo!

Guess how I'm writing this blog entry?

That's right, sitting on my couch with my laptop on my lap. Yeeeehaw! I paid, I brought home, I started up, and aside from having to reset the clock, it's as though my transgression never transgressed.

Yipee!

Hip Update

I finally managed to track down my surgeon today to ask him some follow-up questions about my surgical options.

Here is a brief (as I can get) rundown:

He believes, and a consensus at a recent Canadian meeting of orthopedic surgeons confirmed for him, that debridement (actually treating the impingement) cannot be completely and effectively achieved through arthroscopy. A medical study I found online seems to confirm this. His opinion is that the jury is out about the total effectiveness of arthroscopy with regard to debridement; it has been done but the feeling is that it is physically impossible to ensure complete and thorough debridement without an open surgical procedure where the surgeon actually has a full and unobstructed visual of and access to the joint.

I asked him if he would be willing to try and perform the debridement arthroscopically, given that some surgeons are at least trying to do this without open surgery. His response was that, if he performed arthroscopic surgery it would be just to address the labral tear, not the impingement through debridement. However, given my impingement is slight, he said there was still a possibility that this would alleviate my problems.

I did, of course, mention 'e' of The Gerli Life's experience with the same diagnosis and the fact that her surgeon didn't even present open surgery as an option for treatment. As I predicted, it's impossible for a doctor to comment on another patient's situation when they know nothing about that patient's medical history. His supposition was that her surgeon chose to offer the least invasive surgery without informing her of it's limitaitons in regard to other options. (Sorry, Gerli, I'm just quoting here.)

Since I had pretty much decided not to do open surgery at this point in my life, I explained to him that my decision at this point was more about how much of my problem could be treated arthroscopically. If there is a possibility of addressing some or all of the impingement arthroscopically to, as much as possible, decrease my chance of future problems without open surgery, I want to explore that first.

Despite the fact that I was concerned that my pushing this issue would cause him to be defensive (we all know the stereotype of the egotistical surgeon), he was actually very altruistic in his response. He said that he would make some calls to some other hip specialists in Northern California to get some other opinions about athroscopic debridement. He even said he would be willing to refer me to another surgeon, if that seemed to make the most sense for me. The good thing was that he was very specific in articulating that he was not taking this as questioning his expertise, which I really appreciated. The last thing I need is to sour the relationship with him, especially if he is to help me gather some additional information and/or ends up doing my surgery.

We left it that he would call me back on or around next Wednesday with the results of his findings. Of course, I expect to have to call him to follow-up, although I'd like to be pleasantly surprised.

I also had my regular doctor's appointment today. Did I mention I LOVE LOVE LOVE my PCP? She is absolutely the best doctor I have ever been to. Great personality, takes time to listen to you, never makes you feel rushed, never leaves you waiting, understands the system and works it to your advantage... in short awesome. I picked her based upon a gut instinct, reading her profile online and looking at her photo. She had an honest smile that extended to her eyes and she turned out to be exactly as I had painted her in my imagination. I'm so lucky; I hope I never have to change.

Anyway, the point of mentioning this visit in my post is that she actually went through the results of my appointment with the ortho surgeon on Monday with me. I won't play-for-play our conversation but, suffice to say, she pretty much backed-up what I have said above. In that I trust her, this has really helped me to pull my thoughts together.

In other news...

My laptop is fixed! I heard its dolcet tones upon startup as the technician started it for the first time with it's new motherboard. All that's left to do is to fork over the other $200 and pick it up. Yay! Sort of...

It's flippin' stormin' again! Can you believe it? Tuesday was like being in the middle of a Kansas twister, with my Cypress trees dangerously leaning toward death. Yesterday was a beautiful, crisp, sunny day with barely a breeze to ruffle your feathers. Today? It's like Wednesday never happened. The Cypress trees are back to kamikaze levels, the wind is howling around the house, and the rain lapping at the windows. I'm the first one to like the odd, refreshing storm, but I am so over this see-saw weather, particularly because my dogs have cabin fever. Without exercise they demand more one-on-one attention and are whining and growling downstairs in the family room as I write this. Bye bye rain, come again another day, I say!

A pink fit

I had one. Last night, seemingly out of nowhere.


I was trying to tidy up around the house and everywhere I went was just... "stuff". Piles of stuff. Stuff we had no idea what to do with. Stuff with no place to put it. And, since Christmas, the piles have been growing as the mere thought of tackling the core problem seemed too depressing to bear. When you can barely walk around in an empty/spare room because of the amount of homeless stuff, then it's easy to just add the pile with a ton of stuff that does have a home but that (a) you can't get to because the homeless stuff is in the way or (b) used to have a home but now is occupied by newer stuff.


Unfortunately, Hubbie got the brunt of my frustration - 50% of which was somewhat merited and 50% of which was entirely OOO.


Of all the wonderful things my hubby is, tidy is not one of them. He's the kind of guy who gets home and empties the remnants of his day onto the kitchen countertop - change, candy-wrappers, business cards, receipts, paper-clips, tooth-picks, zip-ties, pad, manilla files, mail, cell phone, bluetooth headset... you name it. He then changes immediately into his pyjamas (a quality I find endearing, I might add) but in the process throws some or his clothes in a pile somewhere on the floor, shoes usually a few steps in front. When he goes to bed at night his pyjamas and socks go in another screwed-up pile next to the bed - the pyjamas to be worn again the next night, the socks to accumulate in that spot for a few days.

(Sorry honey, I love you to death and I am by no means perfect, but it's true.)

After a long day, I totally get this. There are days when I just can't be bothered to clean up after myself right there and then. All I want is a cup of tea and to veg-out on the couch watching repeats of Everybody Loves Raymond. I'm not a slave-driver or a neat freak (based upon my experience of what a neat freak is and, believe me, if you met my Grandmother, you'd know I know.) The problem comes when this habit is sustained day-after-day, with one day's pile of 'stuff' accumulating on top of the other. It becomes like a landfill and unfortunately we don't have one of those handy bulldozers to crush it all down into a manageable, vacuum-packed heap. (Although, thinking about it, that might not be a bad idea.)

When you add together the 'homeless stuff', the stuff with a home that no longer fits into it's home, the week's laundry that needs to be put away, the stuff that has a home that has been tossed onto a pile each day, and you times this by 7 days (or more if a week goes by without it being addressed) it can get overwhelming, cluttered, and maddening. Or at least it does for me.

This is all further exacerbated by the fact that our two-car garage is chock-a-block with other 'homeless stuff'. There really no room to remove the offensive homeless items from our spare bedrooms into the garage, which would usually at least put the mess 'out of sight out of mind'. We can't fit a car in the garage (we can barely fit a person in it) and the only way to condense it is for both Hubbie and I to take a whole day to pull it all out, sort it out, and put it back in (or throw out). Even then, this would probably only achieve enough room for one out of two cars (if we're lucky). Unfortunately, the weather has not been particularly cooperative of late and so the result is gridlock.

Gridlock. Can you believe it?!? We added 500 more square feet to our living space AND a garage last year and somehow we seem to be out of space already. Quite honestly this induces a feeling of utter panic in me. You may think I'm being hystrionic but that's what clutter does to me. I feel like I'm drowing in it. It feels impossible to ever get the house tidy and every weekend seems to be spent just keeping your head above water vs. ever actually making an impact on the bigger problem. And all of this without even having a kid yet. Can you imagine the chaos that will ensue when we add a little Vixen? I'm coming out in cold sweats just thinking about it.

The problem last night was that I'd been looking at this accumulated mess (some of which was Hubbie's, some of which, as I've stated is just the stuff of life (and my Mother, God bless her) we have no idea what to do with) for a few weeks now and trying not to complain about it. Hubbie has been working incredibly hard lately and I'm so pleased to see him finally get the fruits of his many years of labor in the real estate industry. The last thing I've wanted to do is whine and nag him about this. Instead, of course, all I've been doing is bottling it up (which I think explains my crappy moods in the past few days that I haven't been able to put my finger on.) At some point the lid has to blow as I'm not the kind of girl who can keep it down.

So last night, I fizzed my lid right off.

In the process of trying to wade my way through the stuff in one of our two spare rooms (yes, we have two spare rooms and still have this problem) and attempting to put away ten sweaters that have been laying on the floor in front of Hubbie's closet for 3 weeks, the pile of sweaters began to unravel and fall on the floor.

BUBBLE BUBBLE! Frustration, anger, resentment all boiled to the top and then over the edge. I screamed and threw the sweaters in the air, leaving them to fall around the room.

Poor Hubbie came running - probably thinking I'd fallen on my hip and disclocated it or something - and before he could even get to the top of the stairs I released my vitriol on him.

I immediately felt bad for yelling, especially since it was probably so "out of the blue" for him (just 5 minutes before we were chummy and putting pretty new sheets on our bed together) but I was just too mad to apologize right away.

The result was that all that stuff got cleaned up but resentfully and in anger. Way to go with marital diplomacy.

Part of the problem, I recognize in thinking more, is that Hubbie does have limited closet space and doesn't really have a spot to put the contents of his pockets at the end of the day.

The closet space I have no idea how to tackle. I know that I have the lion's share of the closets but what am I supposed to do? Throw out perfectly good stuff? I already have some things in boxes in the garage (which as we've established can't take any more) and routinely donate 3-4 big black bags of clothing twice a year plus sell another 3-4 bags once a year at a garage sale. (This is no exaggeration.) I suppose I could purchase an armoire or something but where would it go? The guest room is an option, I guess. The other spare room is reserved for a potential Baby Vixen and although could be a short-term solution, would only leave us with the problem of where to put said armoire if and when BV arrives. Plus, I'm loathe to throw money at the problem. Heck, our house is 50% bigger and our mortgage is 3x what it was and we're still trying to pay our way out of this mess!? Where does it end?

As for the space for Hubbie to rest his misc. paraphinalia at the end of the day... I think we seriously need to think about that. Valets, boxes, baskets... none of those things have worked in the past. I just have to accept that there is this 'stuff', it's here to stay, it can't be put away or categorized, and it's always going to be a messy pile. The question is, where can I put it so that it's not in our faces or in our way? My office is not an option as it's a working space I'm in 8+ hours a day, the kitchen countertop is not working, and quite honestly anything in plain 'guest' view just drives me nuts. This is obviously a discussion that needs to be calmly had with Hubbie.

All in all, I feel bad about the way things went down last night but I did finaly realize what has been bothering me so much since we moved into this house. Yes, there's been something underlying that has been niggling at me since the day we moved in and this is it. I love the house, I love the space, I adore our yard, I love our neighbors... but already we're wall-to-wall packed-in. It seems we made this big financial and square-foot leap and we're no better off than we were before. Something has to give and it can't be the house - obviously; I'm pretty sure the walls are fixed.

What is needed is a brutal review, organize, throw-out or donate session where everything is up-for-grabs. We need to reclaim our 1900 sq ft of living space before we suffocate.

Random Wednesday Stuff

Yesterday was snow and today is so warm and sunny I ate my lunch on my deck - go figure! And some people still claim climate change is a myth. Sheesh.

I called the surgeon's office today to ask him to call me to answer some additional questions about the surgeries he was advocating yesterday (see yesterday's long post.) He hasn't called me back yet which is frustrating because I would have liked to have got his answers before I request a 2nd referral from my PCP at a scheduled appointment tomorrow morning. Well, I guess it doesn't hurt to get that ball rolling either way. More than anything I'm biting at the bit to get this thing taken care of soon.

Spent some time talking to a news reporter for NBC's Nightline today. She’s doing a real estate related story and will be shooting some footage of the President of my company, who is also the CEO of a big real estate brokerage here in town. Hopefully my company will get some national airtime exposure out of it. I don’t expect any personal glory, however, so don’t tune-in expecting to see me quoted or anything.

Time to cast my absentee ballot for the Presidential Primary. I guess it's no secret who I'm voting for, although I don't hold out an awful lot of hope for my ideal outcome. Yesterday, after the President's State of the Union address, Barack Obama's response was the most watched video on You Tube. I think that tells you a lot right there. It was a beautifully orated response, granted and, as those of you who have been reading my blog for sometime already know, I have a lot of admiration for Obama and certainly see him as having great potential... I just don't know if he's ready yet. His optimism and preacher-like chattering about "hope" make him sound just a little naive to me. I wish it was 8 years from now, with Hillary giving her last State of the Union and Barack waiting in the wings to clinch the next 8 years for the Dems. When this whole primary process started like 100 years ago, I said to my sister-in-law: "I think it will be easier to get a black man elected than a white (or any other race) woman." I guess we'll see how right I was very soon!

Finally, an update on my battered laptop. They still don't have the motherboard yet, so news on when she'll be coming home. They think they can turn it around the same day once it gets in. Hopefully that includes making sure the thing actually starts up and doesn't produce a bunch of error screens.