Tuesday, June 28, 2011
Yep, and I need EVERY SINGLE PAIR baby!
Tell me I am not alone. I have at least 8 pair of jeans currently. Actually, even though some might rotate in and out of that stack (acid wash, zippers, etc.), I think I have always had about 8-10 pair of jeans.
Have I become some chipmunk of denim, and my closet is the knot hole in the tree, waiting for winter?
I really do think I have a pair for every occasion.
Need help painting your room? I've got a beat up pair that are so stretched out that I can actually breathe AND paint, which is useful.
Going to a cute-but-casual event? Darker washed longer jeans so I can wear heels. By the way, what is cute-but-casual anyway?
If there is a work related event that is considered casual, I have a rarely worn pair of jeans with a waistline that would not dare threaten to show my bum cleavage (embarrassing!)
Then there are two pair of the exact same size/length of jeans, that seem to be an oddity. One pair is comfortable, and the other is too big and too short in length (???), but I can't remember which one's which, so I have them both...
Waaaay at the bottom is the pair of jeans that I hope I never fit into again, since they were bought when I was at my highest weight. These are a reminder to me.
I think we all hold onto a pair of jeans that there is just no way possible in the physical universe that they will ever fit again. You know, that pair from college or even high school, but for some reason you cannot get rid of?
Lastly, I'll bet you have that pair you really really want to wear soon. The goal weight jeans. They were not cheap, the color is spot on gorgeous, and you use them as a good gauge to see how you are doing with your new lifestyle. Those would be the 'holy grail' pair.
I hang those puppies right on my closet door as a reminder to keep up the hard work.
Maybe I won't need all those jeans in my closet, but for now, let's just call them my blue cotton dyed security blanket, OK?
Wednesday, June 22, 2011
Hear me out here...
Both look fantastic at first, but of course there is work involved.
Girls, we all know that when we bring home that perfect bra on that teeny plastic hangar, it STILL needs to be properly broken in to be given that "perfect bra" title, right?
Moreover, sticking to a new regime of eating good, healthy food and breaking a sweat with tough workouts can be work at first too.
My new healthy lifestyle plan and new bra share some other characteristics:
Both can be uncomfortable at times (i.e. birthday parties with my brain screaming, BIRTHDAY CAKE!, and that undergarment beneath your outfit that you wore to that party).
Both can poke at times and be unruly (no need to explain).
Both can seem pricy, but well worth the $ spent in the long run.
Now let's look at the similarities just for kicks:
NEW WONDERFUL PERFECT BRA IN TRAINING:
Slips occasionally until you get the right fit
It lifts! It shapes! It makes you look flattering in anything!
It's breathable fabric will hug you.
NEW LIFESTYLE IN TRAINING:
Slips occasionally with consistency in both food and workouts.
WILL lift that toosh. My body WILL gain new shape, and look flattering in anything.
My clothes will hug me less...
Now let's be honest, the whirly gigs that we sometimes buy into like shiny pedometers and florescent music headphones might not physically make us stronger in the gym or on the trail, but those satin bows and perfect powder pink color of a bra doesn't make supporting your breasts any more efficient.
It's the mental aspect of these things that make us feel just that bit more 'put together' in life, don't they?
And it's worth the work!
Thank goodness my lifestyle changes can't be ruined as quickly as accidentally throwing that new bra in the dryer - AUGH!!!
Saturday, June 18, 2011
A few days before Memorial Day weekend, the foot that I fractured almost 8 weeks prior had swelled painfully. I called the doctor and was told that swelling from fractures was normal. Normal after 8 weeks? I asked. "Yes, don't worry about it as long as you don't have a fever or calf cramps", the nurse replied.
Coincidentally, my husband had to go out of town unexpectedly, and I was stuck at home with my swollen painful foot in the big black boot all weekend. I tried to ice it, elevate it, shoot, I practically sang lullaby's to it, but it would just not ease up.
By Sunday I realized that it had been 3 days since I had been able to move my toes. They hurt like they were filled with shrapnel. The color wheel shades of my toes were starting to scare me too. Ranging from deep purple, crimson, orange, all the way up to my toenails; like pieces of purple candy corn.
And then the strangest thought popped into my head:
"You know what you need to feel better? A new tube of red lipstick!"
Where on earth did this come from? Had I absorbed so much I Love Lucy over the years that this actually made sense??? "Lucy, you got some 'splaining to do!" What a ridiculous thought.
But wouldn't you know it, I went to the drug store, bought myself a beautiful shade of red lipstick (L'Oreal Rambling Rose), and went back home to lie down.
Well, the lipstick didn't work.
By late Sunday night I was in tremendous pain and feeling very much alone. What is it about the wee hours of the night that make everything scarier? I spoke to the on-call doctor (holiday, remember?), and was told to get to the Emergency Room right away. I couldn't drive at this point so I called my neighbors but they were out of town. And my husband was 600 miles away, but scheduled to land a few hours later, so I waited. Ouch...
He picked me up and rushed me to the ER. The doctors had no idea what was wrong. I was wheeled around for tests and X-Rays by someone who proceeded to tell me how he had better not get scheduled to work over the Christmas holiday, since he was working this particular holiday, and then parked me within earshot of another patient on a gurney who was snoring loudly. "Oh, he's still snoring", he said. "How long have you left him in the hallway?", I asked. "Oh, a while. See, we're short staffed with the holiday", and he walked off (insert blank stare here).
The test results came back normal (???) and they sent me home with lots of pain killers. No thanks. Another sleepless night went by, and I finally saw a specialist the next morning.
At this point I was wiggling uncontrollably from constant sharp pain; sweaty and scared. "Please, make it stop",was one of the first sentences I blurted out.
I was diagnosed with Complex Regional Pain Disorder. Something I had never heard of until that moment. It's a rare condition that is particularly mean and disabling, wasting away bone and causing nerve damage within the affected area (my foot!). It can be deforming if not treated within a critical window of onset, and even then would need treatment most likely for years.
I already live with another rare and also painful neuromuscular/neurovascular disease called Erythromelalgia, which limits my daily life. I felt like my existence in this world was shrinking even smaller, like Alice in Wonderland.
This was a huge blow to myself and my husband, but there was no time, and I needed to start treatment getting a nerve procedure the next morning.
The procedure went well. I can feel my toes now and am walking on my left foot gingerly, but I have a way to go. A few days after the procedure, another nagging thought, but not about make up this time.
"You have to move your body however you can. You have to keep it moving too".
The nerve drugs make me ill, and turn my brain into pudding. I can't seem to get a grasp on my thoughts at times, and seem to have taken up a new sport -marathon swaying- but I am assured this will pass with time.
I have been making myself workout daily, as best I can. Lots of ballet toe pointing exercises and countless arm exercises since I can't do much else.
I am determined to slow this monster down from taking my foot.
I still cry (a lot), but have the support of friends, Spark friends and an amazing husband.
Does this mean I should give up on my weight loss goals?
It may slow me down, but I WILL get there - said with confidence rich in my voice (and red lips).
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