9/30/14. The post where I have "surgery".

9/30/14: just a partial work day today, because I had an appointment to have the cyst removed from my head.  I walked two sub-14 minute miles before work.  To the runners out there, that doesn't sound very impressive, but it felt like a real accomplishment.  Back in my healthier days when I was regularly doing 10Ks and triathlons, I could consistently walk 13 minute miles, but post-CRPS I haven't been anywhere close to that.  Until today.  My two miles averaged about 13 minutes and 56 seconds each - not much under 14, but it meant a lot to see the number 13 appear.  I have not had much luck with weight loss since my surgery, but I am eating healthy again and rebuilding muscle, so I feel like it is just a matter of time.  I sure hope so, because everywhere I go, I see cute fall boots begging for me to buy them.

After my walk, I put on one of my new dresses for work and was immediately distressed.  Nothing about it fit correctly.  It was too tight in some places, strangely saggy in others, and the neck was practically choking me.  I couldn't believe I had tried on this dress and thought it would be a good purchase just a few weeks ago.  Breathing a heavy sigh, I took it back off to save it for another day, and the tag scratched me in the face.  Yes, I had it on backwards.  I wish I could say this is the first time that has happened to me.  (At least this time I caught it before I got to work.)  When I put it back on correctly, it fit just like I expected it to do.  Crisis averted.  

Then I searched for shoes.  I got on my step ladder to get a pair from the top shelf.  (Yes, it takes a step ladder to see all of my shoes.  Don't judge.)  And once again it felt like Christmas morning.  I found another pair I did not recognize.  I had no recollection of buying them and from the look of the soles, I could not have worn them more than once or twice.  Best of all, they were perfect with the dress.  I may have a terrible memory and I may be unable to tell the front of my clothes from the back, but I have good taste in shoes.  I promised myself I wouldn't post any more photos of my shoes, but I can't resist.  

Early in the afternoon I left work, changed clothes, and went to the doctor for my appointment.  It was an easy procedure and all went well.  I've never had anything called a "surgery" where the doctor and I listened to the radio and talked about movies while he removed the cyst and stitched up the incision.  It made me a little nervous, but it didn't seem to bother him.  I won't have the pathology results back for a week, but he assured me everything looked normal.  At least, as normal as a big growth hanging off the side of your head can look.  

I had expected them to shave my hair around the cyst, but they didn't, and now I wish they had.  Afterward, the nurse put a very large dressing on the incision and then a piece of elastic around my head to put pressure on the dressing and keep it in place, which caused my hair to stick straight out all around the dressing.  Then she gave me the good news that I have to keep it in place for 48 hours.  After that, I can remove the dressing and wash my hair, but I have to keep a bandage on the incision for two weeks until the stitches are removed. I walked out of the office with mothers pulling their children away from me and adults staring wide-mouthed.  As I caught my reflection in the glass door, I realized why.  Brilliant.  I can hardly wait to go to work tomorrow.  And the next day. 

As you know, I am an optimist, so when I got home, I tried to make the most of it.  If only I could find a comedy duo filming nearby who needed a stand-in. 

Or a Revolutionary War reenactment needing a fife player.

Or an early Halloween party.

Or a royal wedding.

But no, it's just a plain old work day tomorrow.  A plain old work day with no meetings scheduled, thank goodness.  I can close my office door and hide myself away from the world until I am presentable again.  Fortunately I did not have rehearsal scheduled tonight, so I am home "taking it easy" as the dermatologist recommended.  He has no idea how much I have "taken it easy" over the past year and a half.  He also told me no strenuous exercise until the stitches are out.  He said I could walk, but no "speed walking".  (I'm not sure if a 13 minute 56 second mile counts as speed walking, but I'm going to guess it doesn't.)  So if you see what looks like The Mummy shuffling down the street in the dark tomorrow morning, don't worry.  It's just me.

9/29/14. The post where I dust off my acting chops.

9/29/14: the start of another work week.  My morning walk is getting faster each day.  I looked like I was packing for a long journey before work this morning.  And in a way, I was.  I participate each year in a fundraiser musical sponsored by my local professional organization.  I have enjoyed acting, singing, and dancing my whole life and this gives me a chance to scratch the itch once a year.  What I lack in talent, I more than make up for in enthusiasm.  

For the next month, I will have rehearsals after work at least two days a week.  Add that to one night of handbells and one night of choir and...well, you can do the math.  It keeps me busy for a month every year, not to mention helping jump start my diet, which is more important than usual this year.  Is it a good idea to try to do this so soon after my surgery?  Maybe not, at least physically.  But I did not get to participate last year because my leg was in a cast, and it is just what I need mentally, so here I go.

During rehearsal month each year, I usually take all three daily meals to work to ensure I eat appropriately.  (Food is normally such an important part of my life that this sounds ridiculous even as I type it, but it is true.)  I try to cart as much as I can to the office at the beginning of the week, because the week nights get very long.  So I had a plan for this morning.  Which worked better in theory than in practice.

I got to work and as I put away my food, I realized I had forgotten nearly half of it, and the only utensils I remembered went with the items I forgot.  As I sat staring at my fork and yogurt cup, I remembered why I am a list maker.  But no worries.  I had enough food and utensils to cobble together a lunch and a dinner, even if they didn't exactly go together.  First world problems.

It was a long day, the first of many, but I enjoyed it.  It was nice to see friends that I only see once a year, and I'm excited about the show.  The producers of the show are aware of my situation and will help me keep from overdoing it.  (I promise to refrain from dancing for a few more weeks.)  I turned my stimulator down for awhile this afternoon, but had to turn it back up again tonight.  The next month will be interesting.  

9/28/14. The post where I buzz.

9/28/14: with all my frenzied organizational work yesterday, my foot started to get red and a little shiny (another sign of a flare up), and on the urging of my patient, long-suffering husband I turned up the stimulator for the first time in awhile.  I had to turn it up quite a bit to reverse the course.  Enough that I could feel the vibration down my entire leg.  Eventually the color subsided, but my foot still hurt, I did not turn the stimulator back down.  

I think I slept well, but my health monitor's website was undergoing maintenance and I couldn't download my results, so how can I know for sure?  I was a whirlwind of activity again today, singing with the choir in church for the first time this season, then spending the rest of the day performing various scientific experiments in the kitchen.  https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=0VkrUG3OrPc

All the while, my leg continued to vibrate.  While it was a little distracting, I'll take it over the alternative any day.  The stimulator is still not even halfway up to its current maximum amplitude, and it can be adjusted to move even higher.  Right now I can't imagine how strange it would feel to have it at the maximum, but I suspect I will quickly develop a tolerance to it at increasing levels and if I ever get to the maximum, it probably won't feel much different than this does.  So far the stimulator has been a successful and interesting experiment.  Looking forward to seeing what the future holds, for both the stimulator experiment and my kitchen experiments.  Wish me luck...

9/27/14. The post where I bonk.

 9/27/14: Friday morning (yesterday) I woke up pretty tired after another short night of sleep, but excited to have made it to the end of the work week.  It was casual Friday, so of course, I wore my casual Friday shoes.

To celebrate the weekend, we went to a wine-tasting event with friends.  I offered to be the designated driver since I am finally well enough to drive and I owe favors to just about everyone I know right now.  I drive a MINI, so going anywhere with another couple always looks a little like a clown car at the circus, but fortunately it wasn't a very long drive.  When we got to the event, I had to check my invitation again to make sure it was a wine-tasting and not a speed-dating event.  My friend and I were not showing nearly enough cleavage to fit in with the crowd.  The wines were only average, but the people-watching was fantastic.  

Afterward, we had a delicious dinner at a local Italian restaurant, run by an Italian family, which meant we got to practice our language skills a little.  I don't think they were terribly impressed, but they were polite enough to pretend.  At the end of the evening, we dropped off our friends and drove home, where I thought I was going to write my blog and watch the end of a baseball game.  But instead, I bonked.  https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=G2y8Sx4B2Sk

For those of you who are unfamiliar with that term, I assure you it is nothing inappropriate for a public blog.  "Bonking" is a term used in cycling (and probably other sports as well) to describe your body shutting down and becoming completely uncooperative, seemingly without warning.  It usually happens when a cyclist rides too hard without enough calories or hydration.  But it also appropriately describes what happens when someone who had surgery three weeks ago spends 17 hours in action after about six hours of sleep.  

As I went upstairs to change clothes, I suddenly realized my night was over.  I wanted to curl up on the landing and rest for awhile, but I managed to drag myself into bed and slept for about nine hours.  I felt much better this morning and was able to have a pretty active day, which included a thorough cleaning and reorganization of the kitchen pantry.  Just another day in my rock 'n roll life.  I plan to get to bed earlier tonight.  I'm not as young as I used to be - I can only bonk once a weekend these days.

9/25/14. The post where I count my blessings.

9/25/14:  stayed up too late again last night, but again it was my own fault.  Another good walk this morning.  This cooler weather came at exactly the right time. At the end of the work day, I had an appointment to have my nails done.  On my toes - "Green on the Runway" from the OPI Coca Cola collection.  (Think Sprite can.)  On my fingers - "Brisbane Bronze" from the OPI Australian collection.  (Think shiny penny.)  I can't describe how wonderful it felt to have a pedicure when my foot didn't hurt.  I was practically giddy during my appointment today.  As my very sweet manicurist said, "This is the real you.  I remember you."  

We spent much of the evening visiting friends and I was still giddy.  As I have gone through this journey over the last year and a half, I felt like I was acting fairly normal and getting through it without letting it affect me too much.  But now that I am feeling better, it is obvious (at least to me) that I was sleepwalking, barely getting by.  I am able to live in the moment again and concentrate on my surroundings.  And it feels amazing.  I hope everyone around me can see the difference, too. You deserve it, after what you have put up with from me lately.  

I read an article yesterday about someone with CRPS who hasn't been as fortunate as me.  I decided not to share the article with you, because frankly, it was scary and depressing.  It reminded me that the stimulator is not a cure and I don't know how long the pain relief will last.  All I can do is appreciate feeling good now and make the most of it for as long as it works, which I hope will be a very long time. And I am certainly making the most of it.  I remembered to take a picture today.

Every day this week has been like Christmas while picking out shoes.  Today was especially so, because I found a pair I didn't even recall I owned.  I am not exaggerating when I say that I squealed when I saw them.  I am easily amused. 

I have almost made it through a full week of work, which I was not expecting.  I'd be lying if I said I wasn't looking forward to a little rest this weekend, but I wouldn't have traded this normal week for anything.

9/24/14. The post where I barely stop to catch my breath.

9/24/14:  a good walk again this morning.  It was another cool, breezy morning and I felt like I could have walked twice as long.  I am walking two miles again, but I haven't gone back to my pre-CRPS hilly course yet.  I'll wait until I am officially cleared for takeoff.  

It was a full day at work and then I went straight to my haircut appointment.  Now my hair is not only sassy, but also autumn-colored.  (Whatever that means.)  I got home from my appointment just in time to get in the car with my patient, long-suffering husband to go to choir practice, my first of the season.  I'm happy to report I did not forget how to sing during my time away.  I'm sad to report that my singing also didn't improve any during my time away.   

Since we missed dinner, we went out for a late meal with some of our choir friends after rehearsal and a fine time was had by all.  I had a really long day and my generator hip is definitely feeling the effects, but my foot isn't.  Every now and then I have what I have started calling a "stinger", where I get a small shock or spasm somewhere along the nerve that is vibrating.  I never know it is coming and I always react accordingly. So don't be surprised if I suddenly jump out of my chair and/or holler something mildly (or very) offensive.  

You will all be disappointed to learn that I failed to take a photo of my shoes today.  I assure you, they were fabulous.  Only fun shoes for me this week.  Once the newness has worn off, I may go back to comfy shoes, but if I do, it will be by choice.  I'm officially worn out by all the activity today, but it feels great.  I expect to sleep well tonight and get up and do it again tomorrow.  

9/23/14. The post where I celebrate fall.

9/23/14: not nearly enough sleep last night, but it's my own fault.  I went to bed early, but got completely invested in the baseball game I was watching and stayed awake way too late.  I was really tired when the alarm went off this morning, but got up anyway and I'm glad I did.  In a bizarre coincidence, the first day of fall was unusually cool and my walk could not have been more pleasant.  So pleasant, in fact, that it lasted longer than I intended.  I was a little late to work, but I felt great.  My morning walks are a time where I work out issues and do long-term planning, and I didn't realize how much I have missed them.  I went to work feeling physically and mentally refreshed.

It was a good day at work.  We had a brief security scare, but nothing serious and it certainly made the day more interesting.  What shoes did I wear?  Funny you should ask, because I happen to have a picture.

I promise not to post shoe pictures every day.  But I probably will for awhile.  Wearing all these heels this week has made both of my feet a little sore.  Yes, sore.  And I love it.  My feet haven't felt sore in more than a year.  I'll take soreness over excruciating pain any day.  I haven't had to increase my programmer in several days, so I still have a long way to go. So far, so good.

The best part of the day?  My patient, long-suffering husband's evening meeting was postponed at the last minute, so we had a surprise date night.  We spent much of the evening sitting on a shady deck at one of our favorite local restaurants eating appetizers, drinking wine, and catching up.  Even though I was at home for two weeks, between our house guest and his rehearsals, we haven't  had much alone time together and it felt wonderful to reconnect.  

I resolve to get to sleep earlier tonight and make another long walk tomorrow.  So far, I like fall pretty well.  I hope it stays around for a few months.

9/22/14. The post where things start to get back to normal.

9/22/14: a little more detail on yesterday.  It was the most active day I've had in some time.  I sold concert tickets after both church services, went home to finish up food preparation for the reception, then went back to church to get ready for the concert.  My patient, long-suffering husband played beautifully, as always, and everyone enjoyed the concert.  

I left a little early to get things ready for the party before the guests arrived.  Fortunately, I had a lot of help from several of my closest friends, or as they called themselves, my minions.  We were a well-oiled machine and everything was perfect by the time the musicians walked in the door.  But the minions didn't stop there.  I had friends bringing delicious appetizers, opening wine bottles, passing food around to other guests, refilling drinks, and washing dishes.  I was really overwhelmed.  At the end of the evening, we were left with a clean house, a refrigerator full of carefully packed leftovers, and a basket full of clean laundry.  (A little back story - several nights ago, some friends brought us homemade hot fudge and sundae fixings and took away a basket full of dirty laundry. Best trade ever for us, worst trade ever for them.)  I'd better get started on my thank you notes.

I went back to work today.  The toughest part was sitting at my desk for extended periods, so I tried to get up and walk around as much as possible.  I was relieved to find that the office was still there and nothing had spiraled completely out of control.  I did not expect to be able to work a full day, but I did.  And I went to handbell practice, even if it wasn't my best showing.  A late dinner and the world's tiniest hot fudge sundae (I'm supposed to be dieting, after all), then it was time for bed.  It felt every bit like the long day that it was, but my foot was none the worse for wear.  Oh yeah, and this happened today.

 

I am going to take a short walk in the morning before work.  I have really missed my walks and I'm looking forward to getting back to them.  I'm still probably a month from getting on the bike, but at least I can see it on the horizon.  Thanks to all the help from my wonderful friends, I am feeling much better and things seem like they are starting to get back to normal.  Although they called themselves my minions, I assure you they are nothing like this.  https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=DsiayV5LuD0.  It was much more like this.  https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=FfQmlfsoc8E

9/21/14. The post where a picture is worth a thousand words.

9/21/14: 

9/20/14. The post where I get inspired.

9/20/14: I have started getting up earlier each morning so that it is not such a shock when my alarm goes off Monday morning.  Lots to do today, so no time to lounge around in bed.  

My patient, long-suffering husband's concert is tomorrow, so he and our visiting musicians were out of the house most of the day for their final rehearsal.  This meant I had the day to myself, and a very long to-do list to go with it.  Besides the usual administrative preparation for the concert, we are having a small reception after the concert.  After I made a trip to the grocery store, I spent the rest of the day planning, working on the computer, cooking, and organizing things in the kitchen and pantry.  At one point, I came to a standstill in my organizational frenzy because of several heavy items that needed to be moved. ("Heavy" being a relative term, since I am not supposed to lift more than five pounds.)  This is one of the times it is good to live a few doors down from one of your best friends.  I sent him a quick text, and five minutes later he was moving things around for me.  He is probably writing a blog right now that says, "This is one of the times it is bad to live a few doors down from one of your best friends."

It was as close to a "normal" day as I've had in a really long time.  And I feel pretty good afterward.  My foot is a little splotchy, but no more than a 3.  I could probably turn my programmer up a notch or two and feel even better, but I don't want to play all my cards too soon.  And honestly, I am still in experimental mode.  I want to see what happens tomorrow morning after an active day like today.  I feel more confident doing that now because I know relief is just a button away if I need it.  So far this has been a real game changer.  Here's hoping that continues, because tomorrow is going to be another big day.  But now I look forward to big days again instead of dreading them.  Stay tuned to see if that is still true tomorrow night.  

9/19/14. The post where I have an epiphany.

9/19/14: didn't sleep quite as well last night, but still woke up feeling pretty good.  A friend picked me up late in the morning for a little shopping.  We went to an accessory shop, where I might have gone a little overboard buying jewelry to go with my new work dresses.  But no shoes.  I am still eight pounds away from regaining my shoe-buying privileges.  

I spent a fairly restful afternoon doing paperwork for my patient, long-suffering husband's music series and fielding email meeting invitations from work.  My colleagues have been very respectful during my convalescence, but it looks like they are as anxious for me to get back as I am to be there.  I think I'll have one day of quiet next week before things get crazy again.  Which is the way I like it.

We went out for a late dinner again with our visiting musicians.  About midway through dinner, I had an epiphany.  I realized I hadn't thought about my foot once since we'd gotten there. For the last year and a half, most of my attention has been focused on my foot.  It was impossible to enjoy myself for any length of time, because I was constantly thinking about the pain, whether I could take my shoe off without anyone noticing, when I could get home and elevate my foot.  Tonight, I was able to be in the moment, enjoying my food, the conversation, and the surroundings.  Sure, I had pain from my incisions.  And my foot isn't perfect.  But a 2 is a lot easier to ignore than a 6.  I could get used to this.

9/18/14. The post where I have a great day.

9/18/14: I slept well and woke up feeling quite good. (Except for the one time I rolled over onto my generator hip.  Ouch!)  I think my meds are finally back in order again. I reminded myself not to do too much today, but that is difficult when you are feeling good.  

I made a few small car trips today. Less than three miles each time, enough to convince me I can drive to work next week.  "To work????", you ask.  "I thought you were going to take it easy."  Yes, I know.  I have (as my friend pointed out last night) a bazillion hours of sick leave.  But here's my dirty secret.  I love my job.  Are there days I wish I could stay home?  Sure.  Are there days I go to work and hate it? You bet.  But I am a very lucky person.  I have a very fulfilling career, and I feel like the world is a better and safer place because I go to work every day.  To quote one of my favorite musicians (who is singing about his own job), "Our jobs are all jobs and sometimes they suck.  I love what I do and I've had pretty good luck."  I'm doing plenty of work at home, but I want to be there, in the middle of the fray.  Fortunately, one of my best friends works with me, and I know he won't let me do too much.  Sometimes being my friend takes a lot of work.  But it's worth it.  I think.

One of my trips was a brief shopping stint to buy some new work clothes.  I needed some things that would be comfortable right now, appropriate for work, and still wearable when the swelling is down, my incisions are healed, and I lose some weight. (That's me - always the optimist.)  I am now officially ready for work.  At least, ready to dress for work.  

The rest of the day was spent reading a book and eating sushi - my kind of day.  I guess tomorrow is my last official day of rest.  After that is weekend (and a concert) and then back to work.  I am really looking forward to getting back to life.  At least, I am right now.  Ask me again next Tuesday.

9/17/14. The post where I am a good patient (mostly) and make everyone feel better.

9/17/14: my morning started earlier than it has for the last two weeks, with an 8am appointment to the dermatologist.  I now have an appointment to have the cyst on my head removed in two weeks.  (He mentioned that I could try a longer course of antibiotics if I did not want to have it removed immediately, but he did not recommend it.  I like this guy already.)  He kept calling it a surgery, which seems a little dramatic to me.  Although it involves (local) anesthesia and stitches, I can drive myself and I only have to be there 15 minutes early.  Easiest "surgery" ever.  I was happy to learn that he did not think the procedure would cause a flare-up or spreading of my CRPS.  I was even happier to learn that he knew what CRPS is.  I was prepared to have to explain it.

Even though I went back to the full dose of pain pills yesterday, the pain and irritation in my "generator" hip did not subside.  If anything, it felt worse after the trip to the dermatologist.  My patient, long-suffering husband examined the incision and did not see any sign of infection, but when he touched my hip, it was significantly warmer than the other side and he asked me to call the medical company rep.  To prove my status as a good patient and to make him feel better, I called.  And the medical rep asked me to call my doctor's office and get the soonest available appointment, saying he would have someone from his office meet me there.  To prove my status as a good patient and to make the medical rep feel better, I called.  And my doctor's office told me to come over right away.

Fortunately, the incision was not infected and the device was functioning properly.  They attributed the warmth of my skin to a combination of increased blood flow to the area during the healing process and the generator itself, which is closer to my skin as the swelling subsides.  I felt slightly silly, but my doctor assured me that I was a good patient for getting on it immediately and he felt better that I had come in, rather than ignoring signs of a possible infection.

I'm glad I made them all feel better today.  Mostly I'm glad my doctor did not try to give me another antibiotic prescription, because I would have immediately ceased being a good patient.  (That makes two antibiotic bullets dodged in one morning.  Whew.)   I did not escape blame completely, though.  I accidentally let it slip that I had tried to taper off my pain meds this week and my doctor was not amused.  He suggested that this might explain my increased pain and told me I needed to continue the full dose for significantly longer and taper down more gradually.  He reminded me that it would take six to eight weeks for the incision to heal and six months before I really felt "normal" again.  

I left his office with a 45 day refill on my pain meds and an admonition to slow down and give myself time to heal.  The good news? I now have full, uncut pain pills again, which are much more pleasant to swallow than the ones I altered.  I can save my half pills for later (much later, I promise), when it's time to try tapering off again.  I spent the rest of the day being a good patient and taking it easy.  Which I'm sure makes everyone feel better.

9/16/14. The post where I pay for my mistake.

9/16/14: I woke up early this morning and could tell immediately that today was going to be a rougher day.  I took another half pill and went back to bed, hoping the second time I woke up I would feel better.  No luck.

I'll have to take back what I said yesterday about half pills.  Turns out they are not even half as effective as whole pills.  At lunch time, I gave in to my patient, long-suffering husband's pleading and choked down a second half pill.  (Now I really wish I hadn't cut up all the pills.)  Apparently it was too late, though.  I got behind and there was no catching up, at least today.  The recovery calendar would have to wait - the rest of the day was about just getting through it.

I guess I shouldn't be surprised. At my post-op appointment last week, the nurse had warned me that it would hurt for awhile.  As she pointed out, they "shoved something in a place where there was already muscle and tissue."  I appreciate her discretion in not adding to the end of the sentence, "and fat."  As Mom and I agreed this afternoon while we were talking about our recent medical experiences, though, we think those are things that happen to other people.  That we are tougher and things won't be as bad for us.  We have both learned this year that we are human.  At least, I hope we've learned.  

Speaking of Mom, more great news on her front.  She got her most recent blood test results back and everything was normal. Ev-uh-ree-thing.  She gets to discontinue the hated potassium supplements and other "cancer diet" requirements and go back to eating like a "normal" person.  Which I suspect for her means vats of queso and M&M ice cream blizzards.  I am my mother's daughter.  

Mom and Dad took homemade cookies yesterday to the chemo nurses at the infusion center as a thank-you gift.  For those of you who don't know my dad, he is quite charming and has never met a stranger.  The nurses were already half in love with him, and his homemade cookies probably sealed the deal.  I am so happy for both of them. They have weathered a serious storm together and in the process, they set a great example for their family of what it means to be a team.  Now they get to celebrate and no one deserves it more.

Tomorrow morning I go to the dermatologist about the cyst on my head, an appointment I set before I knew my surgery date.  After that, I will take it easy and hope tomorrow goes a little better.  Most of all, I will try to remember that I am human.

9/15/14. The post where I learn lots of things that I already knew.

9/15/14: woke up at a decent hour this morning and actually felt refreshed.  The first thing I learned today that I already knew?  Quantity is not the same as quality when it comes to sleep.  I've had many hours of "sleep" over the last 10 days, but last night was a 96% sleep score kind of night.  Woo-hoo!  I got up and got to work on my recovery calendar.  

My first project was one about which neither I nor my patient, long-suffering husband was excited, but it had to be done. I made a calendar to tape on our shower door so we can record our weight each morning.  Or as I prefer to call it, the Spreadsheet of Shame.  We resort to this periodically when all else fails and it is time to get serious about our diets.  When I told him I had reinstituted the SoS, he thanked me, but said he would not be recording his weight this morning.  I informed him that I had already recorded mine and that he would, in fact, be recording his as well.  Behind his sad face, I saw a brief flash of happiness that I was getting back to my old, bossy self.

I took my last antibiotic about mid-morning.  Even if there had been more pills in the bottle, it would have been the last.  I spent the next 30 minutes trying not to vomit, then the following 30 minutes wishing I had vomited.  The second lesson I learned today that I already knew? I hate antibiotics.  (Sorry, Mom, I know you don't like me to use the word "hate." But surely you'll let it slide this time.  Because I really do hate them.)  I gave the empty pill bottle a huge raspberry as I tossed it in the recycling bin.  Not very mature, I know, but it sure made me feel better.

After lunch, I decided to brave a short trip to the grocery store for a few dinner items.  The store is even closer than the doctor's office - just two stop signs away.  (I just realized it's starting to sound like we live in a strip mall.  We don't, I promise.  We just live on the outer edge of a neighborhood.)  I felt like I did a good job driving, but I wondered why it was so bright out today.  Even with my sunglasses on, I was squinting so hard I could barely see, and what I could see was fuzzy.  As I entered the store, I reached up to take them off and learned the third thing today that I already knew.  Reading glasses are not sunglasses.  They don't help you see better when you are driving.  And they do a crappy job of keeping the sun out of your eyes. Perhaps it's still a bit early for solo excursions.

I made it through the store without any mishaps (as far as I know) and got home with all the items I intended to purchase.  By the time I got home, I was ready to rest.  I read on the couch for awhile and then did a few chores that weren't physically taxing.  Then I did the final thing on my recovery calendar for today.  I chopped my remaining pain pills in half.  If I am going to drive any substantial length and get my act together enough to go to work next week, I need to start tapering off now.  I took the first half pill, and it was chalk-errific! And I thought those things were hard to swallow whole.  Good thing I cut every single one of them in half before I thought to test one.  Well, on the bright side, it should encourage me to wean myself off them faster. 

I cleaned up after dinner while my patient, long-suffering husband went back to church for a rehearsal.  The fourth thing I learned today that I already knew?  Half a pain pill is not as effective as a whole pill.  In fact, I'd say it is about half as effective.  Boy, am I sore.  I have a feeling I will not be quite as chipper tomorrow, but I can do this.  Compared to the last year, it is nothing.  Well, okay, maybe not nothing.  But at least it is temporary.

The final (I hope) thing I learned today that I already knew?  You should hit "save" a lot when you are writing a blog.  Or at least once.  My patient, long-suffering husband came home from rehearsal tonight to find me frantically searching the internet for a way to recover an unsaved blog draft.  And guess what?  There wasn't a way.  I just finished writing the whole thing again from memory.  It was probably much better the first time.

9/14/14. The post where I try to formulate a plan.

9/14/14: it was a really long night.  I slept, but it seems like I dreamed all night long.  Long, boring dreams.  Like spending eight hours watching old vacation videos of a distant acquaintance.  Then I woke up, took my medication, and went back to bed for a few hours of nausea.  You know, just a typical day.  

I finally got my act together in time to get ready and go to the concert of our visiting musician.  I could only make it to the intermission, but it was nice to get out for awhile and pretend to live a normal life.  When I got home, I immediately laid back down to rest for awhile.  During my brief period out and about, I started to get some breakthrough foot pain and turned up my stimulator. There was a time last week where I thought I might go back to work at least part-time this week.  Silly me.  

During my rest period this evening, I started working on a plan for the next week.  A schedule for tapering off medications, increasing my stamina, getting back to my diet plan, and keeping myself occupied so I don't have any more episodes like Saturday.  I have the plan set in my head and all that remains is to put it in writing so I don't forget it.  Which I intend to do as soon as I can get up off the couch.

9/13/14. The post where my patient, long-suffering husband gives me a lift.

9/13/14: my mornings start late these days.  I take my pain medicine and antibiotic when I wake up and it usually takes an hour or more to get over the nausea.  Only a day and a half left of the antibiotic and I hope things will improve after that.  

The first thing on the agenda today was a manicure.  My drive to the doctor's office Thursday taught me that I should wait a little longer before driving again.  It was only about four blocks away from my house - two stop signs and one stop light. At the stop light, I had the following internal conversation:

Maybe I can just close my eyes for a minute...

NO! WHATEVER YOU DO, DON'T CLOSE YOUR EYES!

You're probably right. But it's a long light - maybe just thirty seconds...

NO, NO, NO! LET'S SING! LA, LA, LA...

Okay, that's enough. The light is green.

(WHEW...)

And it was raining today.  So my patient, long-suffering husband took me to my nail appointment.  ("A-Piers to be Tan" from the OPI San Francisco collection.)  That was my big outing for the day.  Nothing else on the agenda other than watching college football this evening.

By late afternoon, I was pretty down.  My mind is healing faster than my body, and I am full of ideas and plans that I can't realize.  I am also tapering off the Cymbalta now that it is no longer effective (or necessary), which is a good thing, but comes with its own side effects.  Two of which are bad dreams and night sweats, both of which I experienced last night.  Add in a gray rainy afternoon and I was in a sorry state, ready to spend the rest of the day on the couch in a catatonic funk. 

My patient, long-suffering husband was having none of it.  A quick trip to the store for ingredients to make queso, guacamole, and margaritas, my favorite band on the stereo while we fixed snacks, and suddenly we were having an intimate football watching party.  It was an exciting game and a very fun evening.  He gave me a lift today, both literally and figuratively.  Because he's awesome that way.

9/12/14. The post where a very special thing happens.

9/12/14:  I slept well again last night and woke up late again this morning.  Good news for healing.  I had a very fun Friday planned.  Some friends brought lunch over and we had a really nice visit.  I spent the afternoon resting and doing a little computer work for the music series.  As has been the case all week, all my activities have had an elegant soundtrack, with either my patient, long-suffering husband or our houseguest rehearsing.  It makes me feel like I should be wearing something nicer than a t-shirt and running shorts.

Tonight was book club and one of my best friends picked me up so I could attend, because I didn't want to miss out.  Our group has been together for more than ten years and read more than 60 books.  Maybe it's because we were already friends.  Maybe it's because of the great dinners. Or the wine. Or the interesting and funny conversations.  Whatever the reason, we are still going strong and I suspect we'll continue for a very long time because it's always a wonderful experience.  Tonight was no exception. I came home full, happy, and tired.

A very special thing happened today.  When I got the mail, I had a get-well card from someone who reads my blog regularly.  (Since this is a public blog, I try to protect my privacy, and that of the people who show up in my blog, by being intentionally vague about details.  I know it causes my explanations to be convoluted at times and I apologize in advance, but you will appreciate it when you are the one who shows up in my blog!)  This is a person I have met in person only once, but we have corresponded by email and she is a friend of some of my friends and my patient, long-suffering husband, which makes her my friend.  She sent me a very encouraging and uplifting note, which made my day.  

Coincidentally, she has a granddaughter with CRPS in her arm who is going through her own struggles and has chosen not to go forward with any other treatments for the time being.  It made me sad to hear it, but I can certainly sympathize.  As you know from hearing my stories, it can be time-consuming.  Painful.  Expensive.  Frustrating.  Downright maddening.  I hope she will continue to seek treatment, though.  The chances of getting CRPS into remission decrease drastically, and the chances of permanent injury increase drastically, the later you wait to start trying treatments.  I have been able to keep a positive attitude because I have always considered this temporary while I continued to look for long-term relief.  My story might have taken a very different turn if the stimulator hadn't worked.

One more week of recuperation before going back to work.  I'll be tapering off my pain medication, slowly increasing my activity level, and learning more about adjusting my programmer to deal with different conditions (like the storms and resulting temperature change that came in tonight).  Oh, and trying to figure out how to leap over stone walls in a single bound.  Surely there is a program for that somewhere on this thing...

9/11/14. The post where I am reminded how lucky I am.

9/11/14: slept a little better last night and got up "early" this morning for my post-op appointment.  I got a passing grade - my incisions looked good and my medical device rep turned up the maximum volume on my device so I could increase my coverage if necessary.  I am still amazed by modern technology.  I have a battery under my skin that makes my foot feel better.  I barely understand how it works, but it works, and that is all I need to know.  Several times in the last few days my foot has swollen up and turned red because of heat, overuse, or who knows what, which reminds me that the  stimulator is not a cure.  But it doesn't have to be a cure as long as it makes me feel better.

A good friend came to visit me this afternoon.  She brought me vegetarian curry - yum! - and came over with her sewing project to hang out for awhile.  We had a very nice, casual time while we worked on our separate projects and chatted.  Then some other friends invited my patient, long-suffering husband and me over for dinner and drinks.  They live about five minutes away, so it was a nice practice outing for me.  It's about as much as I can do right now, and I could only do it because they didn't mind me showing up in a t-shirt and yoga pants and stretching out all over their furniture.  My kind of friends.

I was pretty worn out by the end of the day, but it was totally worth it.  I was well aware of today's date and its importance, and I was thankful to spend the day with people who mean a lot to me.  Many of you probably don't know this, but on this date 13 years ago, my patient, long-suffering husband was on a subway train headed for the World Trade Center.  While I thank God for him every day, I say an extra prayer for him on this date every year.  We've had some rough medical times this last year, but things are looking up for both of us and we have some great times ahead.  I am a very lucky girl.  A very lucky girl with a battery in my hip and a programmer and an industrial-strength magnet. 

9/10/14. The post where I hope I'm turning the corner, I must say.

V9/10/14: my luck ran out on sleep last night.  Between the cocktail of prescriptions and the placement of my incisions, I could not get comfortable mentally or physically.  It was a very long night.  I decided to spend the morning in bed, partly to try to catch up on sleep, and partly because lying down is much more comfortable than sitting.  I did a lot of catching up on emails and news, but not much sleeping.

I finally got moving around lunch time.  I got to remove my dressings today, which was a blessing and a curse.  It felt wonderful to have the dressings off, especially the one that went straight down my backside, but I could have done without seeing the incisions.  (Let's just say it didn't help my nausea any.)  I also got to take the best shower I've had in almost a week and things started to look up.  

I had a nice, calm afternoon with my friend's dog.  No unauthorized runs today, just napping (him) and reading (me).  After work, some colleagues brought over snacks and we had a nice, relaxed evening catching up.  While I felt rotten this morning, by the end of the day I felt like I was improving.  Of course, that's how the last few days have gone, so I will try not to get too excited. I have a post-op appointment tomorrow morning and we'll see if my incisions make my doctor nauseous, too. I'm guessing the answer is no.  (At least, I'm hoping the answer is no.)

My family's recent run of good medical results continues.  My aunt had knee replacement surgery today and by all accounts, it went well.  I'm having trouble naming a member of my family who hasn't had medical issues in 2014, but so far we all appear to be moving in the right direction.  I am hoping this bodes well for 2015.

I am still having to hold my arm in a strange position to keep it away from my bruise and I have finally figured out what I look like. Some of you will recognize this, and I hope the rest of you will still enjoy it, I must say.  https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=vAE4AOP6xKs

9/9/14. The post where I have an eventful recuperation day.

9/9/14: I slept in this morning and then was really nauseous after I woke up and had breakfast.  This time, I managed to keep all my food where it was supposed to be, although it required me to sit motionless for nearly an hour.  Then I checked some work emails and took a nap, even though I'd only been up for a few hours.  

My foot still felt pretty good, but I have had to turn up the amplitude twice, once last night and once this afternoon.  It may be that the swelling is going down, so the positioning of the wires is changing.  I am really watching the clock between doses of my pain medication.  Besides the three incisions, I have a massive bruise on my hip where the generator was implanted. I can't lie on that side, or touch it, or sit against anything that touches it.  Since that is where my arm would normally rest while standing or sitting, I've had to invent some fairly interesting positions. (I should name them and invent a new form of yoga.  "I call this one 'Awkward-looking Girl'".)  Here is what the bruise looks like today: 

If you use your imagination, you can make out the generator underneath the bruise.  As the swelling goes down, I am starting to be able to feel the outline of it.

While today was dedicated to recuperating, it included a little excitement.  Our friends who live a few doors down were having some (very loud and messy) construction work done in their house, so I had custody of their chihuahua today.  He was a good nurse, napping with me and keeping me calm.  Then this afternoon, I decided it would be nice to take a little walk, so I put him on the leash and took him outside. Unfortunately, he thought that meant he was going home, and he dragged me all the way to my friend's house and plopped down on the front porch, refusing to move.  Normally an eight pound dog would be no match for me, but in my current state I could neither drag him nor scoop him up to take him back to my house.  Embarrassed, I had to ring the front door bell and ask my friend, who was home with the contractors, to pick up his dog and bring him back to my house.  Dog sitting fail.

But it gets even better.  We have a musician staying with us for concerts the next two weekends, and her conductor dropped her off at our door late this afternoon.  As they were unloading her luggage, the dog saw his chance to escape and out the door he went.  Before I could stop them, the two of them ran after him, trying to catch him.  Since I knew exactly where he was going, I calmly went inside and got his leash.  Then I watched them chase him up and down the street for several minutes.  When they got close enough to hear me, I told them they could stand down and I would take it from there.  Sure enough, he went right back to my friend's front porch again.  There was no way I was going to ring the doorbell a second time, so I sat on the porch for awhile with the dog until finally he let me put his leash on him and then he followed me back to my house.  We sat down, both exhausted and thirsty from the afternoon's antics, and within a few moments my patient, long-suffering husband got home from work and asked why the dog and I were both panting.  Long story...

The episode wore both of us out and the dog and I rested for most of the evening until my friend came to get him, while my patient, long-suffering husband made a delicious dinner.  Planning for another long night's sleep and then hanging out with the dog again tomorrow.  Unless the authorities revoke my dog sitting privileges before then.

9/8/14. The post where I remember that I just had surgery.

9/8/14: another good night of sleep and I woke up feeling like my recovery was going well.  I managed a few light chores this morning and did a little work via email.  I spent most of the afternoon reading.  I didn't think I did that much today, but suddenly this evening I ran completely out of gas.  And then I remembered...oh yeah, I had surgery three days ago.  I think I'll go to bed and write a longer post tomorrow.  Earlier in the day, while I still have some energy.  Goodnight, everyone...

9/7/14. The post where I school you on spinal cord stimulators.

9/7/14: another good night of sleep (aided by pain medication).  I woke up nauseous this morning, but I felt better after some toast and ginger ale.  Today was another day of rest.  Our musician friend left town after making us a delicious meal last night and getting the kitchen straightened back up.  Now that's what I call service.  Of course, it may be awhile before he wants to come back again.  I suspect it was a tough weekend for him, between rehearsals, concerts, and taking care of us.

I had a lovely afternoon.  Some close friends came to visit, bearing gifts of flowers and gelato, and we had a nice chat with a glass of wine.  It was a very nice distraction and they didn't seem to mind that I haven't showered in two days and am a little loopy.  Which is why they are close friends.

So, I think I have it together enough to give you more information about my spinal cord stimulator.  The whole concept is really quite fascinating and high tech.  It came with an owner's manual and an instructional DVD.  Here is a photo of all the parts from the video:

The piece of equipment on the top right is the generator, which is the part that was implanted. Below it are the lead wires that attach to the generator and are placed in two different spots in the epidural space in my spine.  So, I have three different incisions: one large one on my lower right hip, where they implanted the generator, one about one-third of the way up my spine, and one on the very lowest part of my spine.  (If you recall the photos from the trial, the spine incisions are in the same place.)  The nurse told me the generator was the size of a cigarette pack, but I think that was an exaggeration (besides being gross).  I would say it's closer to the size of a garage door opener.  

The big piece of equipment on the left is the programmer.  There is a paddle (on the very far left) that I hold up against my skin where the generator is implanted, then I use the programmer to set the program and the amplitude (the strength of the vibration impulses - sort of like a volume control).  They set a single program at the hospital to get me through the week, and then at the post-op appointment they will set multiple programs.  

The other exciting piece of equipment that was not pictured above is this:

It is a super duper high-powered magnet that I can use to turn the generator off in case something happens to the programmer.  Or in case I need to reverse the Earth's rotation to defeat a super villain. 

The generator is not rechargeable, but it should last two to three years, depending on how much I use it.  At that time, they will either replace the generator, or (if my CPRS has gone into remission by then) remove it. I have some new restrictions because of the generator.  I have to turn it off to drive, because the impulses are "positional", meaning that theoretically, I could accidentally send a huge, shocking vibration to my foot while checking my blind spot, which is apparently undesirable.  I can't have an MRI, or any other medical diagnostic test that involves magnets.  I have to turn it off while going through an x-ray machine or an anti-theft device.  I wonder what the chances are that I'll remember all of this.

My foot is responding really well so far.  No redness, no swelling, and very little pain.  I still have a lot of surgical pain, but that will go away.  The best part?  Being able to sleep with my foot under the covers! I will spend the rest of the week recuperating and trying not to bend, twist, stretch, or lift more than five pounds. Oh, and looking at my pretty flowers.

9/6/14. The post where I'm too tired to post.

9/6/14: I know I said I'd tell you more about the stimulator today, but I'm not quite up to it yet.  I've spent most of the day drifting in and out of sleep.  When I'm not sleeping, I try to walk around.  Because of where the incisions are, sitting doesn't feel very good, so I'm trading off between standing and lying down.  The good news?  My foot feels really good.  I haven't been at more than a 3 today, and most of the time it was even less.  Of course, I am also on some fairly high-octane painkillers, which could have something to do with it.  I'll try again tomorrow...

9/5/14. The post where I tell you about the big day.

9/5/14: slept pretty well considering the anticipation I was feeling.  We were supposed to arrive at the hospital at 11:30 am, so I had plenty of time to obsess.  I did a few last loads of laundry.  Moved some things off the floor and out of bottom drawers so they were easy to reach.  Emptied the trash and recycling bins.  My patient, long-suffering husband had been chastised at his post-op appointment on Thursday for doing too much too soon, so I did not want to leave anything undone that he might be tempted to do.  It's a good thing we have an able-bodied houseguest for the next few days and close friends who live a few doors away.

My foot didn't feel too bad this morning, staying in the 5-6 range.  Just as we were leaving the house to go to the hospital, we got a call from the doctor's office.  He was running late and the start time would be pushed back an hour.  While my rumbling stomach and cotton mouth weren't very happy to hear the news, at least we were able to wait at home instead of in the frozen tundra that is the hospital waiting room.

An hour later, we left for the hospital.  Registration and pre-op went smoothly.  They explained the procedure in a little more depth.  They would knock me out for the first part of the procedure, while the doctor "rooted around." (Their words, not mine.)  Then they would wake me up so I could answer questions about the placement of the lead wires.  (It is extremely important that they be placed properly to ensure they work.)  Then they would knock me out again so they could complete the procedure.  They told me it was likely I would not remember the part of the procedure where I was awake and answering questions.  The best part of the pre-op was the hospital gown.  And I am not saying that sarcastically.  The gown had a special lining and attached to a hose and a heater on the wall to keep you warm and cozy while waiting for your procedure. I had a temperature control and there were two pockets I could use to warm my hands.  This may be the best invention ever.  I want one for my home.

When the anesthesiologist spoke with us, we explained to him that I have consistently had issues with nausea after surgery.  (My patient, long-suffering husband was more forceful in his explanation than I was, since he is the one who has to deal with the unpleasant consequences.)   The anesthesiologist assured us that because this was not general anesthesia, I should not have the same reaction.  The doctor was running even more late than expected, but after another wait, they finally wheeled me into the OR.

The surgery went well. I did vaguely remember the part where they woke me up and asked me questions, and the nurses told me later that I was very alert and provided good, detailed information.  (That's me - always the helper.)  While I was in recovery, they brought in my patient, long-suffering husband and showed us how to use the device.  I'll explain it more tomorrow and show you a picture.  They explained that it might not work very well between now and my post-op appointment because of the swelling in my back around the incision.  Great.

I felt pretty good and alert afterward and got home without any trouble.  I ate some cheese and crackers and had some water, and then took a short nap while my patient, long-suffering husband went to fill my prescriptions and pick up something light for dinner.  He came home with pain killers, antibiotics, and spring rolls.  I came downstairs to eat, take my medicine, and watch a little TV.  And guess what?  Spring rolls look a lot less tasty the second time you see them.  I don't know if it was the anesthesia or the medication, but my stomach suddenly became very unhappy until it was completely empty again. My patient, long-suffering husband told me later that I turned green several minutes before I felt sick, but he didn't have the heart to tell me.  On the bright side (and I always like to look on the bright side), at least my incision was not in a place where vomiting would cause my stitches to burst, and afterward I felt much better again.  I guess it's back to saltines and ginger ale for awhile. 

All in all, I think it was a success.  I can feel the device working and my foot feels pretty good. The next few days will be telling.  Thanks for all the good wishes.  I'll be back with more tomorrow, but for now, I have a date with my bed.

 

9/4/14. The post where I spend my last day before the big upgrade.

9/4/14: woke up feeling better today than yesterday.  I took my long walk and then went to work.  As expected, as soon as my colleagues realized I was going to be out of the office for awhile, I was inundated with last minute questions and projects.  It was a busy day, but I think I got it all done.  I packed up my laptop, set my out of office message, and headed home.  For a brief minute, I thought this would be my last day to drive in pain.  Then I remembered - I will have to turn off the stimulator when I drive.  So I guess it won't be perfect, but it will certainly be much better.

After work, we went to the home of some very close friends for a wonderful pre-surgery celebration.  The evening was also filled with emails and texts from family and friends wishing me well.   If I ever start to feel sorry for myself for any reason, all I have to do is think about all the people who care about me and I remember how lucky I am.  

I did a few last minute chores...things neither one of us will be able to do as of tomorrow, like loading the dishwasher.  I see paper plates in our future.  We also spent some time with another close friend, a musician who is staying with us this weekend to play a concert and help my patient, long-suffering husband take care of me after the surgery.  It takes a village, you know.

I can't have anything to eat after midnight and my procedure is not until 1pm, so as my last official pre-surgery act I made myself a big late-night breakfast.  Scrambled eggs, roasted potatoes, and toast with jam.  It was delicious and I feel stuffed.  Of course, by noon tomorrow I will be famished, so I don't feel too guilty.  

I'll do my best to check in tomorrow evening, depending on how well I feel.  In any event, the next time you hear from me, the big upgrade to Valerie 2.0 will be complete.  The original version had quite a few bugs and I hope the updated version will be an improvement, at least physically.  Maybe a little something like this...  http://youtu.be/qcba-ZgtsT4

9/3/14. The post where I keep counting down.

9/3/14: it was a rough night and when the alarm went off this morning, it was clear I wouldn't be going on my walk.  It was a long morning of getting ready, with lots of breaks to rest and put my foot up.  By the time I was finally ready to leave, I had the pain back down to a 7.  And I was only an hour late to work.

I went to work and figured out a plan to get things caught up before I went on medical leave.  It was a very productive day and one more like it should be enough.  Afterward, I had a "strategy session" with some work friends, which involved work, but also lots of laughter and stories, not to mention wine.  

One more day.  A busy day of finishing things at work and home.  And then I'm ready to do this thing.  My foot steadily improved all day, and I suspect it will be good tomorrow in a vain attempt to keep the surgery from happening.  Kind of like the way your hair looks great the day you have an appointment to get it cut.  But guess what, foot? It's too late.  You had your chance to improve and you blew it.  So now I'm calling in the big guns.  

9/2/14. The post where I have the best news EVER!

9/2/14: back to work after four days out.  I took a long walk and started the day at about a 6.  Then I went to work and settled in for a long day of waiting.  This afternoon was Mom's doctor appointment, where she would get the results of her scans.  Dad and one of my brothers would be at the appointment with her, but it was still really hard for me to handle not being there.  At one point this morning I considered jumping in the car and joining them, but settled for calling her instead.  

Late in the afternoon, the group text to the family finally came...no sign of cancer!!!  The next 30 minutes were filled with excited texts back and forth between family members.  I called Mom as soon as they got home to get the details.  For the next three months, she'll continue to have lab tests and oncologist appointments, and then another scan.  For the foreseeable future, there will be no chemo!  She can concentrate on regaining her strength and weight.  I see a lot of queso and chocolate in her future.

The next few hours were amazing. I stopped by the store after work to buy ingredients for a celebratory dinner.  It wasn't crowded, they had everything on my list, and the employees were friendly and competent.  (Yes, I know.  It doesn't take much to impress me.)  I went home and started cooking.  Everything was going great...until the garlic exploded.  I was smashing garlic gloves on the cutting board and perhaps I was a bit too exuberant on the last clove. It flew into a million pieces, sending the rest of the garlic flying all over me and the freshly cleaned floor.  I let out a mild curse, but my heart wasn't in it. It was way too great a day to be bothered by first world problems.  

My patient, long-suffering husband was also in on the excitement.  Even though he had to work late fixing someone else's errors and came home sore and tired from sitting at his desk for too long, he walked in the door singing and laughing.  We opened a special occasion wine and enjoyed our dinner, giddy over the happy news.

The only one who didn't get in on the fun was my foot.  It sat scowling with its arms crossed, holding its breath until it turned purple (if you can imagine a foot doing such a thing).  Which cements what I have long suspected - my foot is kind of a jerk.  No worries.  Right now I may be at an 8 and smell like garlic, but in two more days I will have the last laugh.  But I will probably still smell like garlic.  

9/1/14. The post where I try to stay awake long enough to give an update.

9/1/14: my last post ended as we were going to dinner the night before the gala, which was three days ago.  I'll try to catch up quickly.  Friday morning started with a manicure and pedicure ("Color to Diner For" from the OPI Touring America collection). After all, a girl has to have her priorities straight.  I couldn't very well look like a trophy wife at the event without a fresh manicure and pedicure.   

The rest of the day was a blur.  Last minute errands, multiple trips to the venue, finalizing of the guest list.  Not to mention filling my car with dozens of assorted bizarre items "just in case".  (None of which we needed, of course, but it made me feel better.)  This was the second year for the event and the preparations went pretty smoothly.

The event itself was a smashing success.  The guests came dressed in their best and ready to have a good time.  Everyone enjoyed the food and drinks and the musicians put on a great show.  Most importantly, I was incredibly proud of my patient, long-suffering husband.  He looked handsome and elegant in his suit, was a gracious host, made a very impressive speech, and played a beautiful and moving piece of music.  Not bad for a guy who had back surgery 10 days ago, huh?  

In the spirit of the occasion, I decided to throw caution to the wind and wear a pair of red, strappy dress shoes with a relatively high heel.  Amazingly, I got through the evening at about a 6 and didn't regret my decision the next morning, although I had a couple of odd bruises on my foot.  We had a fairly lazy Saturday morning, said goodbye to our musician friend, and then got ready for our next set of visitors.  My brother and his family made a short weekend visit for the holiday.  They arrived in time to enjoy some drinks and snacks and watch our favorite college football team with us and the rest of our in-town family.  We had a fun evening and it reminded me of how quickly fall will be upon us, despite the stifling temperature.

Sunday morning was a work day for my patient, long-suffering husband and then we spent the rest of the day shuttling from one fun event to another.  An afternoon pool party and then dinner and drinks with a friend at his new home.  Unfortunately, the combination of heat and humidity, along with the activities of the prior few days, left my foot red and incredibly swollen by the end of the evening. 

I went to bed fairly early to get off my foot and slept in this morning.  We had nothing on the agenda today other than a few last-minute chores we wanted to finish before my surgery.  We went briefly to his office for him to copy some music, where I fell asleep on his couch.  Then a nice, leisurely lunch before going back home to do chores and laundry.  I sat down to catch up on email and fell asleep again.  I think I have spent the entire day either napping or yawning.  It's fortunate for me (and my employer) that today was a holiday.

I was at an 8 last night, but back down to a 6 this morning, and I've stayed there most of the day.  Three more days before the implant procedure.  The countdown continues.  In the meantime, I think I'll go to bed early.  This day of rest has exhausted me.