somehow you got through it

Sitting in the orthopedist's office waiting to learn whether I needed surgery or just lots of physical therapy, I was never scared of having knee surgery. Even in the days leading up the knee surgery, I wasn't scared. I've had enough surgeries (6 total including this one) to know that surgeons tend to know what they are doing and I don't have a negative reaction to anesthesia.

What scared me, and still scares me, is everything that comes after knee surgery. The pain killers. The immobilizer. The crutches. The learning how to walk again. The spending entire days on the couch. The physical therapy. The having to depend on other people for everything.

I felt a bit sorry for myself. I never really mentioned that to anyone, keeping those feelings to myself and doing my best to be positive and confident. But over the past few days of recovery, the thoughts of fear have crept in and tried to take over.

Part of it was that I knew what to expect with this surgery. That made the surgery itself easier but the recovery seem more daunting. I had my first knee surgery while in junior high on my left knee. My second knee surgery was for my right knee and happened the summer before my freshman year of college.

My first knee surgery was a piece of cake compared to my second and now third. The second knee surgery was tough. I remember lots of tears and lots of pain. More tears and pain than I've had with this third surgery thankfully.

Telling the anaesthesiologist, the nurses and the reverend that this was my third knee surgery made me realize just how bad my knees are. They all looked at me with a bit of shock. 27 is a bit young to have to undergo so many procedures for the knees. The fact that following the surgery the surgeon explained just how loose my knee was also made me realize just how bad off they (and I) were. The only reason I didn't have surgery earlier was because I refused to allow them to be that bad.

all bandaged up!

Now, though, I have to face my bad knees. With physical therapy and rehab. With the knowledge that I will always have to be extra careful. And with the determination to lose this weight and strengthen my legs as much as humanly possible.

It's kind of funny that I'm so focused on what comes next when right now I'm not comfortable. I'm better than I was when I first came home from the hospital, but pain still grips me - sometimes it's constant and sometimes it's fleeting. There's a part of me that's beyond ready to rip my immobilizer off and start bending my knee; there's also a part of me that isn't so sure I'll be ready to move from an immobilizer to a regular brace.

I told my fears to my mom, who is staying with us and helping me heal while my husband works, and she told me I think too much. And I do think too much. Especially when I'm resigned to sit on the couch and rest.

I want to take these fears and turn them into something else. Determination, maybe. Or drive? Goals and successes, too. Anything but fears that stop me in my tracks and make it difficult for me to move on and conquer the things I've set out to conquer.

Up until today, I've spent a lot of time watching TV and trying to read. A lot of time sleeping too. I know watching TV and sleeping are good while recovering, but I don't want to spend all my time doing those things. That's part of the reason I'm here today - documenting my fears. It's also part of the reason I submitted documents to officially become a contributor to another site. And part of why I finally started working on my novel again today.

I always want a week at home to write and spend time on household projects. But I've seen this week as more of a sentence than a chance to write. With a little attitude adjustment from my mom, and a friend calling me out on twitter, I am changing my mind set. My mom has the household projects under control, and I've got my MacBook in front of me.

I suppose writing is my first step towards turning my fears into something else. My next step? The first post-operative appointment I have scheduled for this Thursday. And then? Going back to work.

But I need to not focus on everything that comes after this first step and instead focus on healing and writing.

And I need to remember that knee surgery and bad knees are not the end of the world. They're just a reason to work even harder and prove to myself (and everyone else) that I will overcome.

(title from "age of worry" by john mayer)

it gets hard to take

Setbacks are inevitable. They're a part of life - both in the large sense and in the smaller, daily sense. I've been struggling with one specific setback recently. It's both large and small. Large because it impacts my life, and small because it has to do with every day life.

I've alluded to it in a few posts, but I haven't claimed it as a setback. Because I honestly wanted to be done with setbacks. I wanted this particular matter to disappear.

Right now, I'm determined to get rid of all this weight. I'm determined to be healthy and fit and happy. And I want nothing else to stand in my way. I've let too many other things deter me from my goal. And I refuse to be deterred again.

But there's something that's pushed me back. It's an almost unbearable pain in my right heel. The worst is in the morning when I first get out of bed. I have to hold onto the wall and limp my way through the house for a few minutes before being able to walk upright.

I haven't been to the doctor, but I've searched the internet and found the same diagnosis every single time: plantar fasciitis. Also known as a bruised heel. All the research I've found has shown me that two things cause it the most - running and shoes with poor support.

Technically, I'm more of a walker than a runner, but I like to consider myself a runner as I want to one day spend my time training for 10Ks and half-marathons. What I am doesn't really matter at this point. What matters is this almost unbearable pain in my heel that's preventing me from getting any closer to becoming a runner.

When the pain first started, it went away almost immediately once I was up and moving around. So I didn't think much of it. There was even a time when the pain went away. But now that it's as bad as it is, I'm seeing the importance (yet again) of taking care of myself.

It's a setback. This pain. It's not the end of the world or of my journey. It's just a setback. A setback in life and in running.

Running and I aren't exactly on the best of terms right now. While I want to run, I know it's physically not the best choice. So I stick with the elliptical. Even that is a little more tough than I would like to admit right now.

While I'm healing, I know it will be that much more important to watch my diet and to find other ways of exercising that are minimally weight baring. The research I've found says rest is important as is staying off the foot. My life is a bit too busy for that, so it's not really possible for me to just rest and stay off it.

So I have a choice. It's a choice of how and if to make myself a priority. It's a choice that will dictate how I go about the remainder of my journey. I can give up and decide I'll never be a runner or fit. I can think I did too much damage to my body - what with my bad knees, my bad ankle, and now this plantar fasciitis.

Or I can ice my foot. And take anti-inflammatories. And stretch out my foot muscles and leg muscles. The foam roller and I can become best friends (in the worst way possible) again. And I can pray. And I can believe in myself and make a promise to myself that I'm going to correct all these health issues to the biggest capacity possible.

I could see the big picture and wonder how it will all come together. Or I can take it one day at a time.

I can see this pain as the end. Or I can see it as a setback and only a setback. I didn't want to have any setbacks, but a setback is better than a "I give up." A setback is short-term. It's something I will one day overcome. It's something that will make me stronger in the end.

So I choose to make myself a priority. I choose to ice my foot and stretch it out. I choose to make healthy choices for food. I choose to see it as a small setback and to carry on.

(title from "born and raised" by john mayer)

and i will waste no time

I graduated college in May 2008. Armed with dreams and a bit of naivity about how the real world works, I was excited for more free time, the freedom to write whatever I wanted, and the knowledge that I would be living in my own apartment and could enjoy as much solitude as I wanted.

Years of education had made me think I didn't have any real free time. I felt that, without papers to write and tests to study for and three jobs to work on top of a full-load of classes, I would have all the time in the world. What I didn't realize then, and what I am starting to realize now, is that I have just as much time now as I did then.

My first year after college I was busy. I moved into an apartment and then moved out of it months later due to busted pipes. I worked a job that required the majority of my time and energy. I planned and executed a wedding in less than four months. Then I settled, or tried to settle, into my first year of marriage. Four months later we bought and moved into a new house.

I didn't really have a lot of free time then. And when I did have any free time, I had no energy to spend on writing or any real desire to write. Five years of writing papers, stories, novels and articles took away all of my desire to write. And then all I really wanted to do was absolutely nothing at all during my free time.

It's been over three years since I graduated college. We'll have lived in our house for three years this coming January. I enjoy writing again. The ideas are slowly trickling back into my head, and I'm responding by writing character profiles and outlines. I struggle with how to spend my free time and wonder how I did it all in college.

Maybe it was the lifestyle of college. Being free and knowing I could skip class whenever I wanted (which never happened - ever). Feeling like all-nighters and choosing friends and fun over an early night of sleep was expected. Knowing I could roll out of bed and head to class or work in a pair of sweatpants and a tee-shirt. But at that time, I made so much more time for everything than I do now. I chose to put effort and time into classes, into relationships, into writing, and into myself. I might not have made it to the gym each day, but I did at least attempt a work out every so often.

Today, I find myself at multiple crossroads. My job is no longer as consuming. I have time to write. And yet I still prefer to sit on the couch, watch television, and then head to bed early. I make countless excuses about how busy I am and how I just can't do everything. But it's a choice I've made - this choice on how to spend my evenings, my mornings, and my lunch breaks. Even my weekends.

I've spent a lot of time wanting things to change. Wanting to write. Wanting our house to be fixed. Willing and wishing and praying for a way to do it all. And it's a lot to take on, especially when I so desperately want balance in all aspects of my life, but it's all things I need to just take on. It's choices that need to be made of how to spend my time and my money and where to put my energy.

I'm not naive enough to think that I can do everything and do it all well. I know my schedule is more restricted now than it was when I was in college and could work before class, between classes, and then in the evenings. And I have a husband to think about as well as two dogs that want my attention and a house that seems to need to be cleaned daily. But I can do this. I can make the choices that need to be made, the sacrifice of sleep when other things take priority, and the determination/drive to make my life work for me in the way I need it to.

I still spend a lot of time comparing myself to others. And I'm trying to stop. It's a daily struggle and a daily process. This wondering of where I am compared to this person or that. This questioning of why I want some things others don't or why I have no desire to have my own children but really want to adopt or foster. And this wondering of where my life is going, what will happen in the next few months and years, when I will get close to figuring it all out, and why it seems so much is harder than I thought it would be.

And I want the answers to those wonderings. Desperately. They might be out there, too, but I am not finding them with how I am currently living my life.

So I am making choices and decisions that will impact my life. Every choice results in a response - good or bad (sometimes both). I'm prepared for the good, the bad, and the somewhere in between. I know that it might be hard living with the choices and what happens after I decide.. I'll have to be more dilligent with my time and start the day off with even more coffee. And I know it's going to be hard to remain constant with writing, motivated with working out, and determined. But I also know it will be worth it.

And I know I can do it.

Writing this blog has taught me so much. I'm not one to write about the daily ongoings of my life. I'm terrible at taking pictures to post. And I spend my time with friends enjoying the laughter rather than thinking about how it relates to a post or how I might work it into my blog.

But I've found a voice. A voice I didn't know I had. This voice talks about struggles and thoughts and all these things that are a little more serious. But this voice is helping me to peel off my layers and see the beauty in my life. It's given me a deeper understanding of my strengths.

And this voice has reminded me that I really can do anything I set my mind to. It might take me longer than some, but I've still lost 33 pounds. My house might need a lot of work still, but with curtains hung (three years later), it's turning into a home. And I might never be a mother in the traditional sense, but there's a desire there to care for children that I will one day turn into a reality.

I will never share every choice here. Some are more private. And some are harder to describe. But I'm excited right now for all the possibilities I see before me. And for all the doors, that were once sealed shut, opening because of the choices I am making.

(title from "clarity" by john mayer)