Posted by Editormum on Mar 1, 2010 in
Family Life This past weekend was unbelievably full. I’m not complaining. I had a lot of fun, and I wouldn’t have missed one minute of any one thing that I did. But it did underscore for me how very important it is to plan ahead if you want to maintain your sanity.
We prepared for our weekend on Wednesday and Thursday night, which was a good thing, because the timeline filled up really fast. We knew that there was a camping trip for Number One Son, a karate tournament for Number Two Son and me, and a couple of get-togethers with old friends for me. I’d also agreed to keep my nephew so his parents could go out, and to tape the confirmation class for Number One Son. So we packed for camping and got our gis ready, charged all the batteries and prepared the video setup for both the tournament and the class, and sliced vegetables for snacking on during the tournament.
Friday night, I had dinner with an in-town friend whom I haven’t seen in years. We went to Ryu, my neighbourhood steak and sushi place. My younger son was with us, but I bribed him with unlimited GameBoy play, so he was quiet and good and didn’t get too restless. I haven’t been to Ryu in a while, as I’m trying to follow both my budget and my low-carb diet plan.
But I decided to splurge just a bit. I’m glad, because Ryu has added some new rolls! The Spicy Cilantro roll was the only new one we tried … the other one I want to try was $12 … I’ll go try that one for lunch some karate day. Maybe as a reward when I lose ten more pounds.
We went back to my house after eating, and had a lovely conversation that ran the gamut from latch-hooked rugs to home remodels to special needs kids to budget woes. It was great, and I was sorry when the evening had to end.
Saturday morning, my son and I scurried around cleaning the kitchen and living room before running out to a karate tournament. We spent most of the day at the tournament, where we and ten other people from two of our system’s schools competed against martial artists from all over the Memphis metropolitan area. We did quite well. Our school members earned enough points to rank us fourth in the school competition — no school trophy for Sensei, but we’ll get him one yet. (He’s not worried about the “bling” anyway. He just wants us to do our best and have fun.)
Interestingly, our school almost swept the Women’s Kata division — all five of us placed in our kata competitions, taking first and third in the Women’s Brown, Red, and Black Belt division, and first, second, and third in the Women’s Intermediate (orange through purple belts) division. Some of our younger competitors did very well, too, with a couple of first-time competitors walking off with first-place trophies in kata and sparring. There were a few disappointments, of course, as some of the kids did not place. But overall it was a very good day.
That evening, an out-0f-town friend I haven’t seen in many years came over for dinner; it was nice to sit down over a nice bowl of homemade vegetable soup with savoury low-carb “crackers” and just chat. And feed my nephew, as this was the night his parents had their special date. The only sad point of the evening was that my chocolate pots de creme totally refused to set, so we had to have a Plan B dessert … it was okay, but it wasn’t what I wanted. And it was kind of embarrassing to have my dessert fail after I’d talked about how good it would be.
Sunday morning, I woke with a migraine. But I’d arranged to videotape the confirmation class for my older son, who was off on a camping trip. So my younger son and I headed off to church for the Sunday School hour. We left after Sunday School, ran a couple of “on the way home” errands, and landed at home for a quiet afternoon of movies, chores, and video-editing (confirmation class and karate tournament). And rest. My headache finally went away late in the afternoon, about an hour before Number One Son got home from his camping trip.
All in all, it was a good, productive, and fun weekend. And a very busy one. I’m not sure we could have pulled it all off if we hadn’t planned ahead.
Tags: Boy Scouts, camping, Diet, Family Life, food, friends, karate
Posted by Editormum on Feb 26, 2010 in
Family Life,
True Stories Story of my life. If it isn’t doctors giving me attitude and inconvenience, it’s my own body playing me false.
You know how your car will make the most horrendous racket, and yank the wheel out of your hands unexpectedly, until the minute you take it to the mechanic, and then it purrs like a kitten and handles as if it just came off the assembly line? Well, my body does that, too.
After three weeks of unremitting pain and an increasingly swollen mass in my left wrist, I caved yesterday and made an appointment to see an orthopedist. I was in so much pain on Wednesday night that I had trouble sleeping, despite ice, Aleve, and a rigid brace to keep the wrist from bending. So, I thought, I’ll give in. I take the dang thing to the doctor and get it seen to.
So this morning, I head to OrthoMemphis. I like this practise … it’s the second time I’ve used them, and even though they are ginormous and you’d expect all kinds of problems, they are really quite efficient. I downloaded the new patient forms (last time I went was for my son, not for me) so I could fill them out ahead of time. Always nicer than trying to write on a clipboard balanced on my knee. I arrived at 0730, for my 0745 appointment. Signed in, handed in the paperwork and handed over my insurance card and driver’s license. When the assistant had copied them, she handed them back and told me that the doctors would begin seeing patients at 0800, so I would have just a few minutes wait.
At 0800 on the dot, I was called back to a waiting room. I was not asked to undress, so there was no unpleasantness with paper “clothes,” thank Heaven. At 0805, a very attractive young man in a white coat came in — it’s nicer when they are easy to look at — listened to my history, asked some questions, examined my wrist, and explained the options. He noticed that I winced a few times when he was manipulating my wrist, so he asked — asked, mind you — if he could take a few x-rays to make sure that there was no fracture of the small wrist bones. There wasn’t.
Unfortunately, the swelling that I have battled for three weeks decided to subside last night. Three weeks of gentle massage and manipulation, rigid braces, anti-inflammatory pills, ice packs, and Epsom salts soaks, all to no avail until I decide to take it to the doctor. And then it shrinks, overnight, to the point that the doctor doesn’t think that even aspiration and a cortisone shot would be a wise treatment at this point.
So. No surgery for now, but he wants to see it immediately the next time the swelling appears. Based on the size and shape I described to him, he said that surgery was probably my best bet. For now, he’s applied a stiff compression bandage which I’m to wear for three weeks. I’m to sleep in the rigid brace (over the bandage), and continue to ice and Aleve for the pain, which is subsiding as the swelling goes down.
I am relieved by the temporary reprieve from surgery. But it’s only that. Temporary. If it follows its usual course, I’ll be back in his office in eight to ten weeks — only this time I’m calling him the minute the swelling rears its ugly head. Because it’s rather annoying to have finally screwed up my courage to seek a doctor’s advice, only to have my body play me false. Annoying … but not really unusual.
Tags: doctors, medical issues, pain
Posted by Editormum on Feb 25, 2010 in
Family Life,
True Stories I’m caving in. My wrist hurts so bad that it’s starting to interfere with my life — I have a high tolerance for pain, but now even Aleve isn’t really working. And it kept waking me up last night. Every time it slid out from under the cold pack. So I am going to an Orthopedist in the morning to see if it really is a ganglion cyst, and if so, what we should do about it.
I’m not sure exactly what will be done tomorrow, other than a definitive diagnosis. Which is, in itself, valuable, I suppose. But I may, or may not, end the visit with actual treatment of the problem.
See, I’m competing in a karate tournament on Saturday. And I’ve already paid the (non-refundable) entry fee. And I’ve already psyched myself up for it. I am not going to miss this competition.
So I’ll be discussing options with the doctor. My sister-in-law, who is a doctor, says that when these cysts get to be this troublesome, they generally want to excise them. Read: “Cut open your wrist and yank that bad boy right on out of there.” I’m cool with that, but not if it means having my left hand trussed up and immobile on Saturday. I’m not sparring, but I still need to be able to make a fist.
The other form of treatment is to “aspirate” the cyst. Read: “Stick a large-bore needle in your wrist and suck the stuffing out of the cyst.” I’m also cool with that. Especially if it means not having some ginormous bandage act going on with my left hand on Saturday. Next week, they can do whatever they want. But before Saturday, no deal.
If both of those options means immobility of that wrist, then treatment will have to wait. For now, I just have to wait and see.
Tags: Family Life, karate, medical issues, pain
Posted by Editormum on Feb 24, 2010 in
True Stories,
weight-loss I want to add a bit more to my post from yesterday about my experience with doctors. Please understand, I know that there are good, conscientious, respectful doctors out there. My brother is married to one. My headache specialist, chiropractor, and dentist are three more. My new internist, though her wait times are terrible, is also a good doctor — she’s worth tolerating the wait. But on the whole, I just seem to encounter more bad doctors than good ones.
And patients need to start speaking out when doctors’ attitudes and practises are not acceptable. I’m not talking about obvious malpractise. I’m talking about doctors who treat their patients as less than intelligent adults.
That’s where the endocrinologist comes in. But first, a little background is necessary. Until I was 27, I was rail-thin. Effortlessly so. When I got married in June 1996, I weighed 110 pounds. By the end of 1998, I weighed 230 pounds. Now, granted, I had two babies in that time. But I also endured enough stress to kill a bull elephant. From 1996 through 2006, I had eight consecutive years of 200+ scores as measured on the Holmes-Rahe Life Stress Inventory. Four of those years were 300+ scores. My doctor told me that I was a walking miracle simply because my stress scores were so high that I should have had multiple strokes or heart attacks, or a nervous breakdown.
Anyway, I began trying to lose weight in 1997, after the birth of my first son. But my second pregnancy disrupted that plan. One thing and another over the ensuing years, until I hit my peak weight of 248.
Now, understand that I was dieting for most of this time. I started a strict low-fat plan in late 1998. I gained 40 pounds in six months and decided that this was only making the problem worse. So I began casting around for something else.
My sister-in-law introduced me to the Atkins Diet, and I began losing. Rapidly. I dropped 35 pounds in eight weeks, and kept losing at a more reasonable pace until several well-intentioned friends talked me into giving up the diet because they believed all of the misinformation that was circulating about it. It didn’t help that I was desperately craving a croissant. And once I gave in to that craving, well …
After a few months, though, I began to research. My hypoglycemia was getting worse and I was worried that I might be slipping over the line into diabetes. And then I began seeing signs of thyroid dysfunction. I found a list of symptoms online, and checked off more than three-quarters of the problems I was experiencing. So I decided to have an endocrinologist check me for diabetes and thyroid dysfunction.
It was a disaster. I took my 1999 glucose tolerance test results to him, and told him all of my symptoms of both hypoglycemia and hypothyroid — the most telling being that I suddenly could not lose weight. Even on the very strictest level of the Atkins Diet, which had worked so well before.
He laughed at me. Told me if I would just cut calories and exercise more, I would lose weight. Told me to cut back to 1100 calories a day. Now, even I know that 1100 calories is not a healthy approach to eating. More than that, I reminded him that I had hypoglycemic episodes, and that eating less than 2000 calories a day was known to cause me to black out or have “the shakes.” He said that was all in my head, and that hypoglycemia wasn’t a “real” disease.
He also told me that there was no way I was restricting myself to 2000 calories a day, as I claimed, because if I was, I would be losing. I showed him my eating journal, with the calorie counts. I showed him the pages from when I was low-fat and eating 2000 calories daily, and how my weight kept going up and up. Then I showed him the pages from when I was doing low-carb and eating 5000 calories a day and losing weight like crazy. I asked him to explain, because from everything I’d read, it made no sense. He said, flat out, that I was not accurately recording either my intake or my exercise. In other words, “Ms. Editormum, you are a big, fat liar.”
I was so angry that I immediately got up off the exam table, put on my clothes, and walked out. Three days later, his nurse called to tell me that all my test results were normal. Insult to injury.
I went online and looked up natural, non-prescription remedies for low thyroid function. Started sprinkling all my low-carb salads and meat dishes with granulated kelp, added some new minerals and vitamins to my already-impressive regimen of daily supplements, and started using coconut oil in my cooking. It helped, and I did start losing weight again.
In the ten-plus years since I encountered this incompetent and patronizing jerk, I have heard stories from others that indicate that I am not the only one who has had such experiences. I know at least four people whose doctors have called them liars.
It’s got to be stopped. Doctors have got to be made to understand that most patients are not trying to hoodwink them. Most of us really do want to be whole, and well, and healthy. And most of us will try to follow their instructions to the letter. So when their pet plan doesn’t work, we don’t need to be scolded like a child or accused of lying, we need help. We need the doctor to dig deeper. To question further. To examine and explore alternatives.
For example, I have learned in recent years that the usual test for thyroid function is not sufficient to catch low-level thyroid dysfunction. Specific tests are needed when a person presents with symptoms of thyroid dysfunction but has normal test results. What is “low-normal” for one person might, in fact, be dangerously low for another.
Human bodies are not mass-produced machines like Toyota Celicas, where every one is exactly the same. Human bodies are, each and every one, prototypes. No two are exactly the same, and different stimuli will affect each person in a different way. Doctors need to rcognize this fact, and stop telling people that there’s nothing wrong just because the tests came back normal.
More than that, they need to stop acting like they know absolutely everything about other people’s bodies. If you don’t live with it, you don’t really know it. And while there are, undoubtedly, some hypochondriacs and some complete idiots out there, most of us aren’t. We’re normal, intelligent adults who want to be treated like we have brains and common sense and an ability to reason. Or, at least, that’s how I would like to be treated.
Tags: challenges, Diet, doctors, Low-Carb, medical issues, obesity, overweight, rant, respect, weight-loss
Posted by Editormum on Feb 23, 2010 in
True Stories Okay, so … I posted yesterday that having to go to a doctor about my left wrist is the one factor that outweighs all others in determining whether I actually seek treatment or not.
And maybe that sounds silly. I can understand that. Our society thinks highly of doctors, and seeks their counsel for practically everything. And we’re encouraged to do so. And that’s probably not a bad thing. But I’ve had such bad experiences with doctors that I’m very, very reluctant to go visit one.
First of all, there’s the wait time. You make an appointment for, say, 13:30. If I make an appointment to meet someone at 13:30, it’s a pretty reasonable expectation that they will be available at 13:30. Not so with most doctors. (And I do have to say most, because I have a doctor, a dentist, and a chiropractor who are spot-on with appointments. But they are the exception, not the rule, in my experience.) I have “fired” several doctors simply because the wait time in their office was outrageous. I don’t mean in minutes, either. I’m talking hours past my appointment time, and I’m still sitting in the waiting room, unseen.
Second, the indignity. You have to undress and put on a paper envelope that doesn’t fully cover any part of you. And then they want you to walk down the hall, past a bunch of strangers, so they can weigh you in a public place. So you are freezing cold (why are doctor’s offices always so cold?) and naked and parading up and down halls with strangers staring at you. Yeah, that’s a comfortable experience.
And then there’s the attitude. The doctors insinuate that you are lying. They treat you like a child or a half-wit. They act like you don’t know your own body and how it behaves. God forbid you should question how much something will cost or if it’s necessary or if there’s an alternative.
The stories I could tell! Like the endocrinologist I consulted about suspected thyroid issues, who told me I should go on a diet of no more than 1100 calories a day, and who laughed when I told him that I passed out if I ate less than 2000. Or the doctor whom I took my mother to, who was so busy treating her like an imbecile that he failed to notice a two-inch polyp in her colon — dude could have killed my mother! Or the doctor whom I consulted about a rash on my chest. Who blushed and got all embarrassed and refused to examine the rash, even when I suggested that it might be easier to diagnose if he actually looked at the rash, instead of listening to me describe it. (I mean, okay, I’m a girl, and I don’t go around baring my chest to just anyone. But don’t you have to see what you are diagnosing?) And the doctor who, when he read my weight on my chart, practically shouted it aloud, and then marched me back to the scale while announcing to God and everybody that there was no way Ms. Editormum weighed 248 pounds. Thanks, doc.
But the most egregious example was my former GP’s office. I called to make an appointment to see the nurse practitioner after catching my toe in a table leg and hearing an audible snap, followed by excruciating pain. “She doesn’t have an opening for three weeks.” I protested that I thought I had a broken toe, and maybe a broken bone was a little more urgent than that. “Okay, we will fit you in tomorrow.” Okay, that was cool. But I remind the scheduler that I think I have a broken bone, so I will most likely need an x-ray. “Okay, I will make a note. We will see you tomorrow at 16:00.”
So I work through my lunch hour and arrive at the doctor’s office ten minutes early. (Ha! There’s always a ream of paperwork to fill out, and since most doctors’ offices won’t fax or e-mail the stuff ahead of time, I always plan to be early.) I fill out the forms. I pay my co-pay. I sort through my mail. I sit and watch the medical propaganda channel. I read my book. It’s 17:00. I remind myself that they are “fitting me in” and that the wait may be a little longer than usual. The waiting room slowly empties.
At 17:45, there are only two people left in the waiting room, me and another woman. The nurses come through and being locking up. No one speaks to us. I look at my co-waiter and she says, “I’ve been here since 15:00. I hope they haven’t forgotten us.” I laugh and say, “Yeah, I don’t really want to spend the night here.” I call my chiropractor to reschedule my 17:30 appointment.
At 18:05, the nurse finally calls us back to the examining rooms. She asks me to undress. I ask why I need to undress if I’m here for a broken toe. She insists. Whatever. Don’t fight them, just do what they say so you can get out of here. They weigh me. They take my blood pressure, which is going to read high because I am becoming more and more angry as the minutes pass. At 18:30, the nurse practitioner comes in and looks at my toe. She hears the gritting noise and feels the click as she bends it. First she tries to tell me I’m overweight. I know this. I’m on a diet. Being overweight has nothing to do with tripping over a table leg and breaking my toe. “I’m going to need to x-ray this.” DUH! I knew that. I told your assistant that. “But the x-ray tech has already gone home for the day. I need you to come back in the morning.”
I think this is why they have you undress. It puts you at a disadvantage. I’m not going to launch myself off the exam table and throttle someone if I’m stark naked except for a paper envelope that doesn’t even wrap around me. It would be so embarrassing on the evening news.
I complain about having to take off from work again, and the doctor tells me that their x-ray tech arrives at 09:00, so if I can be at the office by 08:45, they will make sure I get to go first. Should be in and out. No problems.
Don’t you believe it.
First of all, explaining to my boss why I have to leave in the middle of the morning for another doctor’s appointment, when I had to leave early yesterday for the same thing. Yeah. That went well. I can imagine it would have been much worse had I been in one of my previous jobs. But it was still uncomfortable and unpleasant. And assuring her that the doctor said it would be “in and out” didn’t really help much.
So I get to the doctor’s office at 08:30. Sometimes, if you are early, you get lucky, get seen, and get out. No such luck on this day, though. I sit in the waiting room from 08:30 to 09:15. I go to the desk to remind them that I am there, that this is my second trip to their office, and that I am taking unpaid leave from work for something that they were supposed to have been prepared to do yesterday. I get the “yeah, yeah, yeah” attitude, and the “we’ll call you soon” stall tactic.
At 09:45, I tell them that if I don’t get seen in the next ten minutes, I’m leaving, and not only will I not be back, ever, but I will write to my insurance company and the BBB and the Chamber and the medical board and explain why. They take me to an exam room to shut me up. And they tell me to undress and put on another paper “gown.” Now I’m naked and in their power again. Sigh.
At 10:15, they finally take me back to the x-ray area, where a complete hag take the x-rays. She was so rude that I’m surprised they have any patients left. Seriously. I finally leave there at 10:45. So much for “in and out” and “a quick trip.”
Now, the kicker to all this is that this doctor referred me to a foot surgeon, because she thought that the x-ray showed a hairline fracture of the hallux. (Another half-day off from work!) When I went to the surgeon’s office, the first thing he says on looking at these x-rays is “These are useless. I can’t tell anything from this. We will have to take new x-rays.” And the new x-rays showed no break, but a number of bone chips in the joint. So not only did I spend the equivalent of a full work-day in the GP’s office, but I had to pay for two sets of x-rays.
That is just one example of the kind of thing I go through when I have to visit a doctor’s office. So is it any wonder that I am reluctant to make an appointment to see one for a somewhat inconvenient wrist issue?
Tags: challenges, doctors, medical issues, pain, True Stories
Posted by Editormum on Feb 22, 2010 in
Family Life,
True Stories I think I have finally figured out what is wrong with my left wrist. I mentioned in a couple of previous posts that I have a long-standing injury that periodically flares up and gives me merry hell for a few days or weeks, and then subsides. I thought it was a sprain from a fall I took ten years ago. Then I thought maybe I’d “jammed” it in the wreck five years ago. But while they were somewhat plausible explanations, neither ever really made sense.
The other day, someone mentioned “carpal tunnel” as a possibility, and I scoffed. (Why would I ever get something so mundane, so “normal,” as carpal tunnel syndrome? C’mon, this is ME we’re talking about.) But after a few days of pain, I thought, well, maybe just this once, it’s not something stupid and rare, but something normal, treatable, and easy. So I looked up the symptoms of carpal tunnel syndrome. Sorry, but that’s not what it is. The only symptom that fit was intermittent pain and swelling. No numbness or weakness. No dropping things. No radiating pain — the pain is highly localised.
So the other day, I was absent-mindedly rubbing the painful area on my wrist and thought of the Aspercreme my Sensei recommended for my sore calf muscle and thought, well, why not try it on the painful wrist? And while I was massaging the ointment in, I noticed a knot under the skin. Hm. Never noticed that before. So I thought, okay, got a mass there now. That’s probably a bad sign. So I went back and started looking up wrist pain. Nothing seemed to fit, until I found this site, with the detailed diagram showing exactly the point where my pain is (at point B, if anyone cares).
So it’s apparently a ganglion cyst. That’s very interesting. And the question now is, do I just continue allowing it to do its thing, periodically swelling and causing me a lot of pain and inconvenience, or do I take it to a doctor and have it either aspirated or surgically removed?
There are a lot of pros and cons on either side.
Leave it alone.
Con: When it swells, it apparently impinges on a nerve in my wrist, which can be excruciating and it can make it tough to do my daily job, which involves a lot of typing and other wrist motions. It also makes certain exercises and karate positions just about impossible. (Push-ups and crane-hand, anyone?) I usually end up taking massive doses of Aleve, icing it every night, and wearing a wrist brace for several days or weeks.
Pro: Aleve is fairly inexpensive (and so is Aspercreme, which did help); I already have the wrist brace and the ice pack, and I have become fairly proficient at one-handed typing.
Do something about it.
Pro: having it aspirated or removed would put an end to the cycle of recurrent pain and inconvenience. I could stop taking Aleve, which I’m sure has some nasty effect on my liver or kidneys or some other important internal organ. I also wouldn’t have to carry a tube of Aspercreme around with me, and I would no longer have a greasy wrist. I could stop having to sleep snuggled up to an ice pack. I could ditch the wrist brace and type normally. I could do push-ups, cartwheels, and crane-hand strikes without pain or joint collapse.
Con: I would have to go to the doctor.
Right now, that last consideration is the one thing that keeps me firmly in the “leave it alone” camp. It completely outweighs all of the pros of doing something, and all of the cons of leaving it alone. It’s the 900-pound gorilla against which all the other arguments look weak and foolish.
The reasons why are enough material for another post.
Tags: accident, challenges, Family Life, injuries, injury, karate, pain
Posted by Editormum on Feb 21, 2010 in
Family Life The massive workload continues. I’m not really complaining. Honest. I don’t like to be bored, and I don’t mind either my office work or my household work. I’m just feeling a bit … overwhelmed … lately. In the past, I would have hired out some of the stuff on the to-do list. But the budget says that’s just not possible right now. So. I gotta do it.
Patience. I need to be patient. With myself, with my job, with my home. Oddly enough, the boyz are not testing my patience too much these days. Knock wood so I don’t jinx it, right? (Hmmmm. Knock wood. Wonder if it will be warm enough to break some boards in the karate pit this week….) They even cleaned their rooms without too much fuss or resistance.
Do one thing at a time. (Seventh law of Dinotopia, LOL). I need to learn that. And I need to learn to take a break between each thing, so I don’t end the day feeling like a wrung-out rag.
And I need to learn to do a reasonable amount of things and then stop. I’m worn out, and the week’s only just begun. And it’s bedtime. I hate having to stop to go sleep. I regret when I don’t, but there is just so much to do.
I need to find my copy of When I Relax I Feel Guilty and re-read it, I think. It’s going to be a busy week, with Number One Son going to Reelfoot with the Scouts, and Number Two Son and I competing in a karate tournament, plus some other activities that are going on this week. So I guess I’d better start it right, by going to bed more or less on time, instead of at midnight.
Tags: challenges, Family Life, stress
Posted by Editormum on Feb 18, 2010 in
Family Life Funny how things can roll along okay, and then suddenly, BAM!, something gets you and knocks you flat.
I’m profoundly sad tonight. Not sure why, really. There have been some minor disappointments and worries over the last few days, but nothing worth getting really down over. I’ve just finished moving all my archived e-mails from my old e-mail address to my new one, and in categorizing them, I had to read some things that were probably better not remembered. Same with the old blog posts that I’m migrating from my old Blogit blogs to the Audio, Video, Disco archive.
Maybe it’s the combination of those things, plus being tired and in pain. I’ve pulled a muscle in my left calf …. the same one I hurt several months ago. I understand that I will always have trouble with that muscle in both legs, as I have ruptured them both in the past (at different times, both stupid). The gastrocnemius is a bad muscle to mess up, because of the way it hooks up with the soleus and the Achilles tendon — from what I understand, it doesn’t heal as quickly or as permanently as other muscles do. I’ve also got tendonitis in my right Achilles, thanks to overstretching it by sliding on the ice last week. I’m icing both of those nightly, and taking plenty of Aleve. I’ve also tripled my calcium / magnesium / potassium intake. And my left wrist is playing up again — I have a pinched nerve from the wreck in 2005, and sometimes it causes my wrist to ache and swell. Again, ice and Aleve, plus a wrist brace, usually knocks it back to normal in short order. If that doesn’t work, I’ll have to schedule a special trip to the chiropractor to get that nerve un-pinched again.
And the tired part is me not being disciplined. I ought to be in bed asleep by 2200 every night, but this week I’ve been doing stuff after work and after karate, and I’ve not gotten to bed before 2330 most nights.
Thank goodness tomorrow is Friday and it is supposed to be a quiet weekend. I think I will sleep in a lot and try to get back on my usual bedtime schedule. And get some projects done so I don’t have so many things nagging at me from all sides.
Tags: Family Life, injuries, injury
Posted by Editormum on Feb 15, 2010 in
Philosophy It’s funny. I find that my observation of many things has greatly changed since I started taking karate. I don’t remember this kind of change when I was taking ballet or running track and cross country. Of course, I was about 8 when I took ballet, and I only got to take for about a year, so I probably wasn’t into analyzing the physical processes then. And I was in high school when I ran — again, not a time when most of us are analyzing such things particularly deeply — at least, I wasn’t. I was more interested in analyzing the attractive young men on the men’s track and cross country teams.
Anyway, I’m watching the pairs skaters at the Olympics, and I find it a different experience from the last time I watched … four years ago. And I noticed the same thing the other night, when I was watching some of the old John Wayne westerns.
I’m a girl. And I’m not much of an athlete. So I used to pretty much tune out during the fight scenes in the movies. Not anymore. Now I find myself analyzing the fight. Noticing the different combinations and skills that the fighters employ … even though I know it’s a choreographed fight.
And when I’d watch the skaters, I was more interested in the costumes, the staging and presentation, and the coordination of music and choreography. Now I find myself analyzing how they set up their leaps and throws, noticing things like the fact that the skaters never straighten their legs fully.
All this athletic behaviour seems predicated on the same principles of motion. I’ve noticed that karate, like ballet and skating, relies on the plie to generate power and mobility in the legs. Okay, my Sensei doesn’t call it “a plie,” but that’s what it is. Same with the turnout. Sensei doesn’t call it “turnout,” but the principle is the same. And I notice in the skating that plie and turnout are crucial in the landing of jumps.
And then there are spins. In ballet, one of the first skills we learnt was “spotting”: focusing on a particular point so that you didn’t get dizzy when turning. Now, I’ve known for ages that skaters have to “spot” if they are going to do those incredible, fast-paced spins. But it was quite a shock to me when I started learning spin kicks, only to hear my Sensei using almost the same words that my ballet teacher used three decades ago to teach me to pirouette.
And then there is the jete. Another skill we learned in ballet. And used in long-jump and in running (coming off the blocks is a lot more like a jete than you might think). Used, too, in skating, for those lovely leaps and throws. And in karate. Because, as Sensei keeps telling us, jumping kicks are intended to cover a lot of ground, which is precisely what a jete does in ballet, skating, and the long-jump.
I would never have thought that cross-country running, the long-jump, karate, ballet, and figure skating would have so much in common.
Tags: athletes, ballet, karate, running, sports
Posted by Editormum on Feb 12, 2010 in
Family Life Things are busy in our household right now. Sometimes, too busy.
My older son is taking confirmation classes, which means that, headache or no headache, I have to get us to church by 0930 on Sunday mornings from now until the end of May. It’s a cross I’m willing to bear, if it helps bring my son closer to God.
He is also working his way toward First Class Scout so that he can go to the 2010 Jamboree … the 100th anniversary Jamboree. That entails some weekends away, and a priority on Scout meetings and campouts. As well as some family time helping with planning.
My younger son is preparing for the spring karate tournaments … and so am I. There will be at least one a month from now through May, and we are hopeful that there may even be two in a couple of those months. Last year, when we competed, all of the tournaments were several hours away, on the SMAC circuit in Mississippi. This year, we have been told that there will be at least two or three open tournaments here in Memphis. That will be nice, though we have made so many friends on the SMAC circuit that we will definitely be continuing our participation there.
We continue the decluttering and reorganizing of our house. I thought I could eliminate some clutter by going paperless with bills and bank statements, but that backfired badly. I’m just a paper kind of person, I guess. I still pay online, but I need that paper statement to keep me on track. So now I am being diligent to file those papers when they arrive, rather than waiting until bill-paying day. I’ve managed to sort through dozens of boxes of kids’ clothes, selling some, giving some away, and putting some up for the garage sale. I’m now going through my clothes, with the same purposes in mind. We all have WAY too many clothes. And toys. And maybe even books. Way, way too much. So yes, we ARE having a garage sale this Spring, and whatever doesn’t sell is going straight to Goodwill. I want it out.
I’m not sure where all this stuff came from. In many ways, it’s like I’ve been in a coma for five years, and now I’m having to catch up with everything I missed. It’s an odd, surreal kind of feeling. And I’m still coming to terms with it. But that’s the point: I AM coming to terms with it, and I’m finally beginning to find myself able to take the necessary action to accomplish the things that need to be done. And that makes the “busy” worthwhile.
Tags: Boy Scouts, challenges, Family Life, karate