THE Andrea

dance as though no one is watching

Mr. Blue

I re-read my last post and it makes me sick. Well, the last line does...

"Things could definitely be worse..."

Well, that was an understatement. Things got a lot worse. This is what we posted on FB -

Our son, Jeremy Blue Olivier was born on Friday, June 17, 2011 3:53pm. He passed away shortly after his birth. There were complications with the pregnancy. We had him for such a short time, but he has forever changed our lives.

I'm not going to get into the details or anything, but I feel like I need to post something about him and what we went through. I guess I feel like I couldn't post anything else on my blog until I did this post. But, what do you say? I'm heartbroken beyond words... that's kind of a given.

Everyone was so great to us. A lot of compassion out there, even from places I least expected.

I also found that some people just didn't even get it. I did not miscarry. Not to say that miscarriages are something that are easier, but in a way they can be. I was 21-weeks pregnant. I gave birth. I had an epidural and went through the whole shebang. He was 7 inches, 9.5 ounces. I held my dead baby boy... kissed his cold head... touched his little sharp finger nails. He had my nose! And he had Mike's long fingers, and his chin, too!

And yet, I still got comments like.. "Well, if it was meant to be..."

Yah... I'm not friends with the people that said shit like that to me anymore.

So, this is probably not as monumental as maybe it should be. But I felt like I had to write something. Acknowledge our little boy Jeremy Blue, my Mister Blue... before I can get to a healthier place in life, or on this blog. It could not go unsaid.

I will miss my first born boy forevermore.

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...And Even More WAITING!

Started "The Art & Science of Making Our Critter, Part I"

Continued in "The Art & Science of Making Our Critter, Part II"

Continued in "The Art & Science of Making Our Critter, Part III"

Continued from "Now... the WAITING"

 

It took me 30 minutes to get a hold of Miguel. I had literally just gotten off the phone with him when the nurse called me back, and I could not get him on the phone or on text or anything. So flipping frustrating. I had a friend that was doing IVF at the same time as me texting me, and my mom texting and calling me, and another friend texting me. But I wasn't saying a peep until I got to talk to my man. That seemed only fair, except he wasn't really cooperating. Finally, I think on one of my many call attempts, he answers. I don't even remember what I said. I wonder if he remembers. Hmmm. So, somehow I relay the information. He is ecstatic! He wants the OK to tell one of his buddies up there with him so he can truly experience it and not alone. I tell him he can tell that ONE person. I then proceed to tell three :D Actually, no, four. TEEHEE. A few days later my four becomes five. But that's it, that was my max. I think in the end, Miguel told four people.

Just when I thought the most horrible waiting period was over, I get a good knock of reality right upside the head. On Monday February 21, 2011, I went and got my blood drawn again. Didn't really stress too much about it, just waited til the end of the day when I got my results. My HCG levels were higher, but not as high as they should have been. Apparently, HCG levels should close to double every couple days. My first HCG level was 57, this new level was 87. They said it should be 95. Now I start to worry. I also started getting a pretty wicked cold that day. Oh, and all-day nausea started the previous day. Oy vey.

I get another blood draw on Wednesday, it was better. I got another one the following Monday, February 28, 2011. Much better. Had our first sonogram on March 2, 2011. At this point I'm considered 5 weeks 4 days. From this point forward, I think we have sonograms every week for a few weeks with the exception of Spring Break week (aka SXSW). This was good and bad.

See, Dr Silverberg is a super upbeat and positive guy. I've walked into his office feeling like the world would end and I walk out without a care in the world. I'd heard stories about some of the other doctors, and some (like the one that told us the bad news) just don't have that great non-stop positive attitude. So, it was quite odd to see a different side of Dr Silverberg -- oddly cautious. We would have our sonogram appointments and he would say something like "it's not as big as I would like". But then he would end with "everything looks fine". Some other gems were "we're not out of the woods yet" and "that heartbeat is slower than I'd like". He would mostly end with "everything looks fine, see you in a week" or whatever. This caused me so much flippin' worry. I would take whatever line of the week and just dwell on it. Thank goodness Mike would just focus on the "everything looks fine" portion. Cuz he would have to talk me down some weeks. By the time the next sonogram would roll around I was a wreck. It wasn't until I was about 8 weeks 4 days that I got a big boost of confidence.

We'd been hearing or seeing the heartbeat since 6 weeks 4 days. But at the 8 week mark it was like hearing a freight train. It was a whopping 170 beats per minute and it was just truckin'. That made me feel so confident. I wanted to say screw our 12 week rule of when to tell people and announce it to the world! But, it's glad one of us can manage to stay sane at any given point, cuz Mike insisted we keep our deal of 12 weeks. Dr Silverberg was still concerned about the size of our critter, but we saw him one more time at 9 weeks 4 days, and the critter had almost completely caught up with growth. So, he released me to see my OB finally. He also told me to make sure I send them a picture once the baby was born, but the nurses kept telling me I better bring the baby up there. I'm sure they really like seeing the end result of all their work. I don't blame them at all.

We see my OB -- Dr Stephanie McNelis (love her!) -- at 10 weeks 4 days. It was weird cuz her sonogram machine is a bit inferior to TFC's. It felt like we were going quite a ways back. She couldn't even pick up the heartbeat and made it seem like it's rare when she can. Madness! I'm spoiled over here, give me everything or give me nothing! I kid :D Everything looked kosher, they gave me bunches and bunches of samples of prescription pre-natal vitamins and a couple bags worth of swag, told me to get blood drawn and said come back in a month. A month!??!?! I have gotten sonograms weekly dangit, what is this month thing?!?

Apparently, "because of my age", and because of the IVF thing, I'm considered High Risk, so that is actually going to afford me more ultrasounds than your normal pregnancy. Some at my normal OB and some at a high risk place that has higher resolution ultrasounds! At first I was offended at being "high risk", but if the only downside to that is getting more peeks at the critter, than I'll wear that label proudly!

Just after Miguel got back from a wedding in Venezuela, we started telling everyone about the little critter. I probably rode on that high for 3-4 days. It was great getting it out in the open. Probably didn't help that because of IVF we knew WAY earlier than most folks do. It was just so much WAITING.

So, now we're pretty current on things. I'm 14 weeks as of the moment of writing this. I get my next ultrasound (on the belly this time!) in 4 days. Then I think we'll be scheduling the ultrasound for determining gender with the high risk place soon after that. Really exciting times for us.

This is the end of this portion of the story, but I imagine I'll be pretty darn chatty about all this, so hopefully I'll write more as we go. I don't want to be one of those batty ladies that talks about her pregnancy or kids all the time to people. I've been on the other end of that, and trust me -- the non-parent types really can't stand it. So, I'll use my little blog here to get most of that out, hopefully. I can't promise anything, but I'll say that I'll try my best :D

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The Art & Science of Making Our Critter, Part III

Started in "The Art & Science of Making Our Critter, Part I"

... Continued from "The Art & Science of Making Our Critter, Part II"

 

Dr Silverberg loves what all our gender bits are looking like and all that, so it's time to start IVF cycle #2. I started Birth Control Pills (BCP) on December 22, 2010. I started the first hormone Lupron on January 11, 2010. Then I started Gonal-F on January 19, 2011.

An interesting fact here is that during the 1st cycle, I gave myself almost all the shots. I ended up having bruises everywhere. I even had one on my stomach that lasted 3 months. I was not looking forward to more bruises. However, Mike did every single shot during the 2nd IVF cycle and I had a couple tiny quick bruises, but for the most part nothing. He's got magic hands or something. Or, I stressed like a mofo when I was having to give myself the shots. Go figure.

Back to the current IVF... I was told to do the Ovidrel (ovulation trigger) shot at 8pm on February 3, 2011. That set me up for a 6:45am arrival on February 5, 2011 at the surgery center. Since the previous retrieval sent me into the hospital and allowed me to experience my first morphine shot ever, I can't say I was particularly looking forward to this experience. However, I did make sure that I had some pain meds long before the day of surgery. Ok, it was like 2 days prior, but still. I had those puppies in hand. I did use the pills for about a day, but after that didn't really need to. Much different experience.

Turns out they got a whopping 25 eggs this time. This time out of those, 19 were mature enough to fertilize. Of those, 17 fertilized successfully. These numbers were looking really good. However, we wouldn't know how well they were doing until February 8, 2011. I would find out early that morning whether we would transfer that day or wait until February 10, 2011. (Transfer is what they call putting the fertilized eggs back). February 5-February 8 was a difficult time for us to wait. The last time our 3-day report was not good.

So, I'm at home on February 8, 2011, and I'm taking a shower when the call comes in about our eggs. Mike runs into the bathroom and is just staring at me while I'm getting the call. Turns out we will have to wait until February 10th to do our transfer. The reasons are entirely different this time around though. We just have so many eggs doing so well, that they don't want to pick now. They want to wait until Day 5 (Feb 10) to see which ones are excelling the best. I cannot describe to you the relief that both of us experienced. We were waiting for and dreading this particular moment again, because this is where it started to fall apart last time.

I have a scheduled time to arrive at the surgery center at 11:30 on February 10, 2011. They show us pictures of the 2 blastocysts that were doing the best. Now, a little side note here. When we started this fertility stuff, I was 34. I was already getting the "because of your age" spiel back then. If you really want to feel old, go through fertility issues around this time. You will constantly be bombarded with reminders that you are old as dirt. After a few appointments, I told one of the nurses "Can you just mark in my chart there that I get it. I'm old as shit, let's move on." She found it humorous. I was being quite serious.

Anyway, back to the wonderful blastocysts. So, because of my age, they let us choose whether 1 or 2 of those eggs were put back. We threw the dice and said let's do 'em both! Then they wheeled me into the procedure room, and Mike followed me in. He was seated to my left, where we could both see the TV screen. This would allow us to see them take out those 2 eggs from the dish they were in before they walked into the room with them. The embryologist handed them in a tube-y thing to the doctor, and he did what he does... squirted them up there. They then take the tube back to the microscope, check that everything is gone and no eggs got sucked back into the tube. All clear! I then get taken back to my room where I have to rest and relax for 30 minutes. For the next couple days, I have to be on bed rest.

Now, you might be wondering what happened to all the other eggs? Well, at this point we had 15 left that were still doing really well. So, they wait one more day, and see which ones are viable for freezing. I don't know how many that ended up being, but we got 6, yes 6! that survived the freezing process. We went from nothing to having 6 spares?!?!? We couldn't have asked for better results, seriously...

TO BE CONTINUED in "Now... the WAITING..."

 

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The Art & Science of Making Our Critter, Part II

... Continued from "The Art & Science of Making Our Critter, Part I"

Side note: From the polyp-removal surgery, I actually have pictures of my internal bits. I have real photos of my ovaries, my uterus, some intestine shots, and I even have a picture of the big ol' polyp. If you ever have this chance, tell them you really don't need to see them, cuz there is no way these types of pictures can be pretty. Yech!!! :D Just be glad I didn't scan them in for these blog posts! HA!

I'll give you a run down of an IVF cycle, or at least what mine was like. They started me on birth control pills (BCP) the month before the actual IVF cycle. So for end of April/first of May I was on BCP. On May 13, 2010, I started the hormone shots, beginning with Lupron. This overlaps with BCP for a few days. Then, on May 22, 2010, I add in Gonal-F. This hormone is a follicle stimulator. This is gonna hopefully get me a bunch of eggs ready to go. The thing I disliked most about this part of the cycle is having to get something stuck up my junk every other day while they watch my eggs. I mean, you get used to it, and at the same time you don't. But that's just me. When the eggs are at the desired size, I am then scheduled to take an Ovidrel shot. This has to be timed very well because 36 hours after you take this shot you will ovulate. So, the surgery for removing my eggs from the follicles on my ovaries is scheduled precisely 36 hours after I take this shot. That was June 6, 2010. Thank gawd I was out for this, but the gist of it is, they insert a really long needle through my vaginal wall up to my ovaries and suck out all the follicles they find. I ended up with 20 eggs.

After this egg retrieval procedure, things got a little interesting. I wasn't given any pain meds for after the surgery. We kept telling people, but we never ended up going home with any. Most people just told us it wouldn't be a big deal. Their default prescription for this is Vicodin, and I'm allergic to that. So, this just caused a bit of a mess. We get home, and about an hour after we get there, I'm really starting to feel it. About 10 minutes after that, I'm screaming my bloody head off. And this is coming from someone that has quite the high tolerance for pain. Mike pages out Dr. Silverberg and asks if it's okay to take some Darvocet I had leftover from my polyp surgery. Doctor says go for it. I take that, it helps for maybe 20 minutes (turns out Darvocet was just taken off the market cuz it's WEAK SHIT!). I'm back to screaming again. Poor Mikey. He was probably freaking out, but he was a champ. He pages the doctor back out and the doctor tells us to go to the ER where he has privileges. It's not our closest, but it's 2nd closest. So we head over to North Austin Medical Center. Apparently he called ahead cuz they were ready for us. Plopped me in a wheelchair and rushed me into the back. They examine me and stuff, and pretty quickly pump in some morphine into my IV. It felt nice & woozy & fun, but did absolutely nothing to my pain. I think they eventually found something that would work to quiet me down.

I get a CT of my abdomen area and there is definitely some bleeding going on in there. They admit me to the hospital, and I'm doped up for the next 24 hours. Mike has to force me to stand when I need to pee. The pain then was so excruciating, sometimes I would be crying. But, he would never let me sit back down when I was on my way to standing. Sometimes this whole process of peeing would take 10-15 minutes. I had to pee often too, cuz they were pumping fluids in me. Ugh. Not fond memories. But, if I ever doubted it (which I never have), Mikey takes wicked awesome good care of me. After all that mess, I finally get the OK to leave, so we leave the afternoon after we entered.

Now, back to those 20 eggs. Of those 20 eggs, only 14 were mature enough to attempt fertilization. Apparently this wasn't a great percentage. Of those 14, only 9 successfully fertilized. Of those 9, none of them grew enough to be viable. June 11, 2010 was not a happy day for us. We were somewhat warned of this on June 9, 2010, but it really didn't hit home until we went back in for what was supposed to be my transfer. (Transfer is what they call putting the fertilized eggs back). No viable eggs meant nothing to put back. It was a very sad day. My normal doctor was on vacation, and the other doctor there giving us the news was really bad at it. You could tell she's either young or new or both. Not so great in the bedside manner, where my normal doctor excels. However, the embryologist there was really great. He seemed to think there was still hope. He explained to us that it appeared to him to be both a sperm & egg quality issue, and he was pretty sure one or both of these issues could be dealt with. I really appreciate that the embryologist was there. He was a hope-saver.

And hope we needed... because my doctor was on vacation, we had to wait a whole 11 days to talk to him. It was a seriously difficult time. Absolutely mind warping. When we were finally able to meet up with him on June 22, 2011, he told us he could change how much of the hormones I got next time, and that could solve the quality of the egg issue. Miguel needed to go see his man-bits doctor so they could deal with the quality on his side.

Miguel went to a doc that the fertility doc recommended. He had Mike start taking some drugs and a vitamin drink mix twice a day, and we were on a minimum of a 3-month wait-and-see creeper. Miguel had his followup appointment and things were definitely looking up. I think we ended up waiting another 3-month for more results, and those looked even better. So, we met up with Dr. Silverberg again on December 13, 2010...

TO BE CONTINUED in "The Art & Science of Making Our Critter, Part III"...

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The Art & Science of Making Our Critter, Part I

Most of the people I know, have already heard about the fact that I'm currently 13 weeks pregnant. But, do you know the whole story? Cuz whooooo-boy, there's a story.

It all began in October 2005. Our house burned down. Yes, this started then. I don't know if it was the fact that we seriously could have lost each other or all our kitties or what. But, it definitely ramped me up in the wanting a baby department. I never really felt that overwhelming need to have one, but suddenly, I at least wanted to try. Mike seemed quite game. So, I saw my OB, she checked me out, said I was good to go, and to see her in about a year if nothing came to be.

Well, a year passed, and nothing came to be. So, I went back to her. She told me to take my temperatures everyday for 6 months to a year, so we could establish if I ovulated regularly. Really? This should take this long? Turns out I had a crap OB, cuz this shouldn't take this long really. I will also admit to going in and out of motivation on this particular topic. Even after a year of trying, sex becomes very boring and very much driven by that one thing. Getting ME knocked up. But, I soldier on, and end up taking my temperature for a year. Like clockwork, my cycles are perfectly 26 days, and I ovulate on day 14. No wonder it seemed like my periods are just right around the corner. Cuz they are. Annoying factoid about moi.

Well, that was settled, everything appeared to be functioning. After the 2nd year of this, I was really losing interest. It felt like I was driving all of it, and I wanted to feel like Miguel was truly wanting this too. So, I sort of stopped at this point. If he really wanted to do this, I wanted him to drive it a little more.

I think it was at the 2 year mark that Miguel finally goes to get himself checked out. Come to find out he had some issues that could only be truly helped with surgery. Miguel had his first surgery on September 12, 2007. We keep going, and keep getting Miguel looked at. Turns out about a year later, his doctor says the problem has returned. He will need to see a specialist in Houston at the Baylor School of Medicine. Miguel goes there at least once a month for quite a while, until they decide he needs another surgery. So, on October 30, 2008, he has his second surgery in Houston.

On August 5, 2009, I finally go see Dr. Silverberg at Texas Fertility Center (TFC). He has me go get a dye test, but then I never go back for follow-up. My interest is really waning, and I'm still not feeling Mike's 100% buy-in. Yes, I know the boy has had a couple surgeries, but still. I later found out his seeming disinterest was really more frustration that it wasn't happening very easy for us. That's certainly understandable. So, I don't go back to TFC until February 9, 2010. This is when we find out that I have a big ol' polyp in my lady junk and couldn't have a kid no matter how much we tried. I have a natural IUD hanging out in there. If I had a decent OB before, she would have done this after a year of nothing happening. C'est la vie.

So, March 4, 2010, just a week before SXSW, I get the polyps removed and while the doctor was in there he zaps some endometriosis he finds. I'm all good. My lady bits are in fine working shape now. TFC starts working on what our plan will be for In vitro fertilization (IVF). We have a vacation planned for the beginning of May, so we can't really start until after we get back...

TO BE CONTINUED in "The Art & Science of Making Our Critter, Part II"...

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'Sup, 'Slices!?

So, it's like summer or something. And I felt I needed a new theme on the page. I put one on *reveals like Vanna White*, but I'm not in love with it. I'll find something soon, I'm sure. But until then, it may be a little schizo up in dis here page. I don't really have much to add. I don't know why... cuz it's not like I'm not a talkative sort. But, whatever. I shall ramble or something.

So, I got a major hair cut. I literally decided to do it on my way to my stylist. I thought I would have to scream & cry the next day, but oh-no! I adore it! I even have to "style" it, and I still love it. WHAT?!?! I know, it's so crazy.

I'm not sure you can tell from my post so far, but I'm still in a pretty good headspace since the last time I mentioned being, yanno, happy and shit. Still am ... LOOK! Goofy grin. But a grin.

Going camping/cabin'ing this weekend with my bud Sarah and her fam, and Mike of course. Hopefully I will remember to actually take pictures. I doubt it. But I do have my iPhone now.

Oh yah.. I have my iPhone now. So, I promise you won't hear me bitching about not having one. Heh.

Got a Kindle 2 for my bday. I honestly think we're in love. Well... I love it. I call it "Hamlet" and my iPhone is "zazzle". Just go with it, I do.

So, here's another hair pic, cuz I know you were just DYING for another. TADA. This one is from when my stylist did it. See, cuz she knows how to do such things. I am not quite as fortunate, YET.

Hmmm... I feel like I need to write more. Mainly cuz the design aesthetic of my post will be all screwy unless I put enough text to go around this last image. Is this enough yet? Nope.

Dangit.

OH! How could I forget the eventful weekend I just had?!?!?! So, last Thursday afternoon I started to get a headache. It wasn't too big a deal, but it just had this feeling. I knew it was gonna turn into a migraine, but boy I had no clue really. So, later Thursday night it turns into a migraine. Shocking, I know. I kinda get rid of it. Well... tamed enough to work the 2nd half of Friday. But then by the time work was done. Yeow. Back to migraine. Then on Saturday, I pretty much couldn't get rid of it. I had an ice pack on the back of my head pretty much the entire day/night of Saturday. It was the ONLY thing that would do anything for me. I really hate taking my migraine med - Imitrex - cuz it tends to make me feel twice as bad before it makes me feel better. But I did end up taking it Thursday night and then Saturday at some point. GAW. I hate that stuff. By Sunday early evening, I was actually starting to feel quite a bit better. I chilled out and took a bath, read a little. That might have been a mistake. You know.. the whole using of the eyes thing. I dunno... but whatever it was... SLAM! Migraine came at me faster than a speeding jackhammer and I was in tears. I go back to my trusty ice packs, but even then, I can barely breathe the pain is so bad. At about 10:30pm, I finally ask Mike to take me to the ER.

We get to the ER, and they see me pretty quick. I fill out my paper, sign it, as Mike is coming in from parking the car, they have me back there starting with stats and whatnot. From there they put me in my little curtained area. AND the nurse was so incredibly thoughtful because she left the lights off in my area. Another nurse was telling Mike to turn on the lights, and she corrected him real quick. I strip the upper body, but on my nice hospital nightie and a few minutes later the doctor comes in. Young-ish guy that had a bit of a military-ness to him. But I'm simply speculating. And I was half nuts by this point. So, it could have been a female for all I know. He tells me what he's going to do. He's gonna give me 3 meds and some fluids. YahYahYah... just STICK ME already. First comes the fluids... ooh nice and cool, I likey. Then comes the Benadryl (in case I'm allergic to anything they give me)... oooh, trippy. Then they piggybacked that with Toradol and Compazine. After about 15 or so minutes, I go from my nice trippy la-la state to OMGOMGOMG I must move, I can't sit still. But since I'm hooked up to an IV, my only option is to rock back and forth. I kid you not. I finally let Mike go find someone cuz it's getting bad. I start pulling on my toes while I'm rocking back and forth. It's just nuts. The nurse comes, he calls the doc, the docs says he'll come back soon. Like what seemed like forever to me, 30-45 minutes, the doctor finally comes back and says "So, how's the headache?" (headache? douchebag, it's a migraine, it's so very different). I tell him, what headache? No ache in the head at all. Now, what about this weird antsy anxiety thing I got going on. Him - "Yah, looks like we traded one problem for another. But at least the pain is gone." ha ha NO. He tells me they will give me some Ativan and it might help, but I should just keep taking Benadryl every 6 hours, cuz it's all basically an allergic reaction to Compazine. And off ya go... BuhBye.

I think the Ativan helped, cuz I don't really remember the drive home, and the next thing I do remember is waking up like EONS later it seemed. All in all, we were at the ER for 2-2.5 hours. I was pretty impressed by that. I come from an Army brat background and if you aren't in an ER for at least 8 hours, you just had a lengthy doctor's appointment.

So, next day I take my Benadryl every six hours (I added some Valium in there too, same crap as Ativan), and slept all damn day. If I didn't sleep I would have gone nuts with the constant need to be moving. By Tuesday evening, I was finally feeling this || short of normal. For me, anyway.

Wow, look at that. I didn't have trouble filling up that space after all. Toodles. It's late now. I have a really early laser hair removal appointment (the whole shabang baby! :D) in the morning and then off to the campin'.

I hope everyone has a great, fun, safe, Independence Day weekend!

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P&M Myofascial Release

For about the past three weeks, I've been really incredibly uncomfortable.

It seemed to start while I was working out. I was doing my usual lifting of weights with my trainer and I had some seriously major pain shoot up the right side of my neck and explode inside of my head. I shake it off, try the exercise again, and bam. Same thing. My trainer feels my neck and presses around in the muscles and he actually can't believe how tight my neck & shoulder muscles are on my right side. He says the left side feels absolutely relaxed, but the right is like a series of rocks. He helps me stretch it for a bit, and we try again, and happens again.

So, this happens on certain exercises for a couple weeks, but it gets to a completely unbearable point. My neck is also so tight it gives me headaches everyday for 3 weeks. I just couldn't take it anymore. So, I do the unthinkable. I get a full body massage at my gym. Yes, I did get a massage in Hawaii for the first time, but I still don't consider myself a person who gets massages. You have to understand how uncomfortable even the thought of massage makes me, so I had to be in some serious discomfort to end up getting one. Well, i did. It was great during, and even for a couple hours after. But then boom, I feel it all coming back.

The only thought that crossed my mind at that time was "Motherfucker!". I hate to be so crude. Ha! You know me, I lie. I love to be so crude. At this point, I know Mike has had a type of massage that helped some weird problems he's had in the past... numb/tingly elbow and other weirdness. It's a seriously painful type of massage but in the end it seems really helpful. Since a really painful massage is hard to .. you know.. get excited about and all that... I finally came to a point where I was willing to give it a try. I make an appointment at Therapy Central of Round Rock.

My appointment was yesterday, and I absolutely loved the therapist I had. I knew I adored her from the first 90 seconds. Which I guess is kind of important in someone that is going to make you feel intense pain. Mike's friend actually works there, but he just had some knee surgery, so he couldn't see me. But while I was there for my appointment he was also there to get seen for his knee. Before my session started he came in and said hello and whatnot. He had joked to not worry about all his screaming, but that turned out to also be true. He did scream quite a bit. My therapist, Susan, and I were laughing about it. Well, I joined her in laughing when I had the breath capability to do it.

The method they use is P&M (Pin & Move) Myofascial Release. They pin the muscle, and that alone can hurt, and other times hurt so bad you don't want to breathe. However, when they start moving that muscle as they have it pinned, you really want to slap yo mama. Yowza, Holy Crap, and Kill Me Now... all in one go. She worked on my chest, my shoulders, shoulder blades, and neck/head. Some of the places on my head hurt in that "OMG, this hurts but I love you so much for finding that spot". She also suffers from migraines so she knows all those sweet spots.

Right after I felt fabulous. All loosey goosey, and just high on life. A few hours later some of the soreness started to set in. It made me not look forward to today... cuz OMG. I am so sore today. And what do I have to do first thing this morning... go work out with the trainer... on my Chest/Back/Shoulders. All the spots got worked on. Man, i cannot believe I made it through. I hurt just having my t-shirt on. Holy moly. I was expecting to be literally black & blue everywhere. But I wasn't. If I had been I would have taken pictures for you. Cuz it would have been gross, and you'd need to see that.

Anyway... even though, I've gone on and on and on about the pain (I mean, look at their logo for Pete's sake, they advertise the pain!!)  I would highly recommend this to anyone. Even if you aren't suffering from something major. I think it would be good for anyone to get your shit all worked out.

Up next... Monday... where we work on my lower half. I'll keep ya posted on how much fun that ends up being :D

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My life with a fuqd up achilles

I always seem to have such a hard time figuring out what to post. There are random times while driving or doing some other mundane thing where 15 things pop up in my head that I could write about. Of course, I forget every one of those things when it comes to sitting down and writing. So, kinda random, but at least it's something. I have an injury. It was diagnosed as calcified achilles tendonitis. Sounds gross to me. But apparently it's nothing that can't be made better with some expensive Physical Therapy. I guess a few bucks are better than needing surgery or something. My Physical Therapist said it's like having toothpaste in the tendon. Yah, that makes it sound less gross, blech. I'm on my second week of PT and it's a lot easier than I was expecting. I was thinking of having some sort of personal drill sargeant telling me everything I was doing wasn't good enough, not hard enough. Wow, I could not have been more wrong. Apparently, for tendons/ligaments, you don't want a lot of weight involved at all. And as soon as it hurts, you stop. See, this might be where I probably made the issue worse. I originally started having an issue with this after a Body Combat class. I just thought it was from that particular area not being worked out in that manner before, so I kept going to Body Combat thinking it would eventually "stretch" out. I got sick with bronchitis, and that gave me a 2ish week break on Body Combat, and my heel started feeling better. I went back to Body Combat, and as soon as it was over, it hurt like hell. This is about when I realized that Body Combat was causing issues more likely than it was helping issues. I still went a few more times, cuz it might be crazy hard, but it is really fun. The instructor is also insanely awesome. LOVE her! Now I've been told I can't do that, or the treadmill, or upright bikes. I can only do the recumbent bikes and elliptical for cardio stuff. AND no longer can I do an hour of cardio like I used to. I can only do a max of 20 mins or until it starts to hurt, whichever is first. There are some leg weight exercises I can't do anymore either -- calf extensions (which I was doing quite a bit cuz I thought it would stretch out that achilles, heh) and leg press. I was given a sort of modified leg press I can do. Kinda sucks, cuz I liked the leg press. The only strong thing about me is my legs, so I can rock out on some leg press. Not anymore, though. I was also given things to do a couple times a day on my own, and I've not been so good about that. Before I even get out of bed in the morning, I'm supposed to do these stretches with a towel. I think I've managed to do them about half the time. Most of the time when I wake up it's cuz I have the raging urge to pee, so it's a little difficult to stop and do 3 minutes of stretches. I need Mike's help with this one stretch I have to do, so I only seem to do that at night. I'm also supposed to use a rubber ball to do these stretches about a minute before I get up out of my chair. I ask you, do you know about a minute before you are going to need to get up out of your chair? It's just weird. Anyhoo... boring, but an update. .
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*results not typical

Dude. Seriously. I'm in awe. But we'll get to that part later.

I went to the gym yesterday and worked my patooty off. According to Google Maps, the closest Gold's Gym here is 16 miles away. It's a trek, that's for sure. The next closest one is 30something miles away. Makes me appreciate the abundance of Gold's at home. Anyway... the gym I went to is pretty new and HUGE. I'm guessing it's so big since they don't seem to have any others in the immediate area. It's so big that one of the employees couldn't remember where the elliptical machines were. I eventually found them upstairs with a stellar view. I could look down to the first floor where all the bikes and treadmills were. Perfect for people watching. My goal was just 20 minutes on the elliptical. I tend to go overboard when I haven't been to the gym in awhile, and then get so sore it's hard to go back soon. I ended up doing 32 minutes, 2 minutes going backwards. Seems so easy, but damn, my thighs were burning during those 2 minutes. I'll have to work on that. Afterwards I headed to the locker room, and whoa, it was beautimous. Insanely awesome. Washed my hands and rinsed my face, and turned around and dum-dumdum, a scale. A real medical type scale. Ooooh, I have an opportunity to see if mom's scale is whacked. It was a couple pounds more than mom's but then again I had just finished guzzling 2 bottles of aquafina. So, mom's scale is actually accurate. 

We have now arrived at the part of awe. I have actually lost about 10-11 pounds in 2 weeks. Crazy. Never happened before. I'm shocked. I'm super pumped. I still don't know what I'm doing different, but maybe it's just cuz I'm not paying much attention to it. So, I will try to continue to not think of it.  Ha, yah, let me think about not thinking about it. Loverly dilemma.

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ER Photos

A few pics that Mike took of me on his camera phone in the ER.
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