Five Lessons from Memorial Day Weekend



nom nom nom (image from here)

 • Fight the urge to yell “No shit!” when someone you don’t know comes up and says, “You’re limping!”

• National brands such as Degree Women will start following you on twitter if you proclaim love for their odor-fighting products. Your significant other will quit sleeping in the guest room if you decide to use these products as well.

• Staring at people who have limited mobility is rude. In fact, staring at anyone is rude. Last I checked, that lesson was a preschool graduation requirement.

• Daily hour-long Skype sessions are the only way to stay in touch with loved ones who aren’t near. And no, one hour is not overkill and still doesn’t suffice for an in-person visit.

• Trying to convince your mom that dim sum is the best thing to happen to you since Dominoes pizza entered your life, is completely impossible if she’s already decided that they are “undercooked sacks of crap.” Well then.

Sticks and stones may break my bones, but I'm just posting so I don't have to look at my meaty knee when I go to my blog anymore. I'm grossing myself out.

10 Reasons to Get a Hoveround

I’ve finally returned to work after only being there for five days total this month. I never thought I’d say this, but it’s kind of nice to be back. I was getting tired of sitting on the couch and being a slave to HGTV for several days in a row (I think I am officially certified to not only redesign your living room, but do demo work on it too).

But I have to state the obvious: being on crutches totally sucks. I was on crutches 12 years ago for a sprained ankle, but had since forgotten how utterly frustrating and degrading it was to hobble around on one foot. I’m already a klutz on two feet, so I’m not quite sure why they thought it would be a good idea to give me two sticks to help balance on my bad hip. I should have lobbied harder for the Hoveround (that at least comes with a cup holder).

So here’s my list of crappy things I deal with on a daily basis:

1. Everyone feels the need to ask, “Ohmigawwwd!!! What happened?! Poor thing!” For some reason, telling them I was trying to do laundry never seems to satiate their need for this information. I should just lift my pant leg to shut them up:

I know. Gross. And this is a week after the injury. Imagine how it looked before! Or don't. 

2. Opening doors is a race against time – I only have about one second to swing the door open as wide as it will go and dive through with my crutches before it hits me and knocks me over (which will probably result in another ER visit).

3. Managing stairs is life threatening – luckily I only have to deal with this at home, as I work on the first floor. It takes about an hour to go up or down, and I feel like I'm always going to fall one way or the other. It's especially inconvenient when nature decides to suddenly call. All of our bathrooms are on the top floor. I’ve considered asking Boyfriend to purchase Depends for me, just in case.

4. My armpits are constantly sore and the need to upgrade to clinical deodorant has become suddenly apparent.

5. I swear I’m developing carpal tunnel in my left hand due to my death grip on the crutch handles. I think that officially qualifies me for assisted living.

6. I can’t carry anything – unless I do this awkward move where I clench my left crutch under my left arm, and use my left hand to hold something, while using my right crutch normally. Walking this way results in a stagger that is only natural to Frankenstein. And then it makes my armpits sore and sweat even more. It’s easier just to ask Boyfriend to get it.

7. I can’t drive. I’m at the complete mercy of Boyfriend who has become my chauffeur amongst other service positions. Thank goodness we work for the same company, otherwise getting to work would be difficult – but I’ve had to change my schedule so we can ride in together. Getting off later makes the day seem to draaaaag.

8. I've had to ask for favors - and I hate asking for anything. My co-workers have helped me do things like get lunch and coffee. They’ve been so gracious about it and have even been checking in to make sure I have everything I need. I’ll have to do something nice for them once I’m able bodied.

9. I’m forced to wear my business attire. Stitches + jeans = pain. Having the above wound rub against rough denim makes me want to tear my hair out. But then baldness would just add to everyone's curiosity so that wouldn't be serving me at all. My injury has forced me to wear my nice business pants to work everyday. While this has certainly felt better on my knee due to the light and airy fabric, I hate dressing up with. a. passion. If they’d let us, I’d come to work in sweats everyday.

10. I can’t walk my dog. I made one attempt and didn't make it far before I felt like I had just ran a half marathon. I only went about 50 yards from my house. Bowser's leash was starting to get all tangled in my crutches and I was afraid he’d dart after something and trip me, or eat some nasty dead thing, in which case I wouldn’t be able to stop him. Sigh – another task Boyfriend has to manage.

Sticks and stones may break my bones, but crutches are sooo frustrating.

From Laundry Room to Emergency Room

My next preventive care treatment. (image found here)

It started with an attempt at doing laundry and ended with stitches and crutches. Yup – only I could manage to send myself to the ER for wanting to wash some dirty underwear.

I was trying to help my family clean up the apartment before my mom was released from the hospital, so I went for the hamper. The building my parents live in has a separate laundry room that is shared by the other tenants, so I went out the front door, arms full of laundry, quarters and detergent.

That’s when I encountered the screen door to the laundry room. Seeing that it was open a crack, I fatefully attempted to open the door with my foot, rather than do the logical thing, which would have been to put down the laundry and use my hands to open it.

When I tried to free my foot of the door, the edge of it somehow got caught in my stupid flat and the next thing I knew, I was going down. Whoever designed the laundry room thought it would be a good idea to create a step up into the room, and line the edge of that step with metal.

My knees broke my fall, and came crashing down right on that metal edge – and of course I was wearing boxer shorts. Immediately I thought, “Oh my god. I can’t walk.” I rolled over to see I had a huge chunk taken out of my right knee and there was blood everywhere.

I began frantically calling my sisters names. I laid on the ground for five freaking minutes. The apartment was only a few feet away and I couldn’t understand why they weren’t hearing me call for them. Finally a neighbor came out to see if I needed help, and that’s when I see my littlest sister poke her head around the corner. Her face turned white.

My sisters immediately helped me back into the apartment where I nearly passed out - I was in so much pain. Apparently when I was screaming for them, one sister was doing dishes, while the other one was singing into the intercom that greeted guests downstairs to see if she could scare innocent passersby. My sisters heard my screams and thought I was being attacked outside. Rather than meeting my attacker, they opted for the safer option which was to ignore me and stay inside. Thanks sissies!

All sarcasm aside, once they realized I was having an emergency, my sisters were a huge help and got me to the ER by calling a cab. My other sister ran to the store in record speed for gauze, Neosporin and Band-Aids to save the backseat of the cab from looking like a massacre had occurred there.

I kept telling them not to tell mom so she wouldn’t worry. The daughter that was supposed to be in San Fran helping her recover from a liver transplant was in fact in the hospital bed next to her.

After bleeding all over the waiting room for three hours, I finally got some x-rays and three stitches. The x-rays showed nothing was broken, but because I still can’t bear any weight on it, they suspect I may have a fracture on my kneecap or a torn ligament. Rather than waiting longer to get an MRI in the ER, they sent me home with crutches and narcotics to manage the pain until I could get seen in Washington.

The next day I told my mom, and she was released from the hospital and brought home. We both just laid on the couch hopped up on pain killers together. They made us really emotional and we both watched Oprah and sobbed on the couch. It was a bonding moment.

My mom was feeling stronger each day and ended up taking care of ME. It was terrible!

Three days later I adventurously made it back to Washington after harassing airport personnel for wheelchairs and aisle seats. Some were more than happy to help out a gimp, while others seemed to have better things to do, like make the injured feel like an inconvenience to them. I swear to god this gate agent I encountered was prejudice against crutches or something. But I’ll let bygones be bygones and count my blessings that I made it home.

Sweet Boyfriend picked me up from Seatac and wheeled his gimpy girlfriend back to the car. He has done so much for me these past two weeks and I dreaded telling him that he would need to continue heavily assisting me after I returned. But so far, he’s done it all with a smile and even drove me to dim sum. He knows how to make me happy J That’s why we love him!

I went to urgent care today where they helped redress my wound which was starting to get disgusting due to a reaction I’m having to Neosporin (because I have a knack for finding ways to make a bad situation worse), and I have an appointment with my regular physician on Monday to see about getting my third MRI for the year.

Did I mention that I also have to use my bad hip to hobble around on my crutches? It’s painful and exhausting. I really am turning into a geriatric. Or a complete mess.

Sigh.

Sticks and stones may break your bones, but I can manage to break everything else. 

The Big Day

Overwhelming doesn’t quite begin to describe my life this past week. I'm going to explain what happened, but my words will never truly capture the essence of what this experience has been like.

It all started last Wednesday night when I dreamt that my mom got the call that they had found a matching liver donor for her. When I woke up, I thought, “That was weird.” I even texted my sister about it. Then at 4 p.m., I was shopping at Target when I got a call from my dad – they really did find a liver for her! And she would go into surgery at 3 a.m.

The next 24 hours were hectic – my two sisters drove to my house so we could go to the airport together. I scrambled to pack, but we weren’t able to get a flight out until the next morning. We made it to San Francisco by 8 a.m. and we were able to see my mom as she got out of surgery around 10:30 a.m.

She did so well! While she was in quite a bit of pain immediately afterwards, there weren’t any complications and she has been making a text book recovery. Each day she is getting stronger and was released from the hospital just yesterday - only 5 days after the transplant. She’s still regaining her strength but is able to do a lot on her own already. We are so thankful and relieved!

Everyone’s been praying for my mom and sending her well wishes and I truly believe it has contributed to how well she’s recovering. My family is so thankful for everyone’s support - It has made a world of difference and we will never forget it.

I went to support group with my mom and met others who have had transplants, caregivers who help their family or friends with transplant recovery, and those who are still on the list waiting for a transplant. Everyone had such different and amazing stories to tell, but they all had one thing in common: hope. Everyone had a grip on the important things in life and were so thankful for every chance they had been given. It was uplifting to be surrounded by them. Even though I had only met them for 5 minutes, I only wanted the best for each and every person in that room.

Some people had experienced awful complications with their transplants, while others had their livers for 16 years and were doing fine. It was so great to hear everyone’s story and I know it meant a lot to my mom. They were all amazed that she was sitting with them only four days after her transplant.

After seeing all of these miracles this past week, I am sooo sooo happy that I signed up to be an organ donor. I got to see what this gift does firsthand for families and individuals. I hope that one day I’ll be able to provide that for somebody else.

Sticks and stones may break your bones, but organ donation is a miracle.

Stay tuned for some more adventures of this past week, including how my attempt at doing laundry landed me in the ER with stitches and crutches…yeah.

Extreme Consumerism



WARNING: Excess use may cause hoarding. Image from here

 When TLC’s Extreme Couponing comes on, I’m glued to the TV like the other millions of viewers that have begun a new reality show addiction. I’m fascinated by the totals going from $50,000 to $.50, but what really keeps me coming back is my disgust for it all.

Don’t get me wrong – I use coupons too (when I remember to bring them), but I’m not threatening to slit the mailman’s throat every Tuesday if he doesn’t surrender extra bulk mailers.

What this show should really be called is Extreme Consumerism. Why are you at the grocery store in the first place when you have a stockpile at home that could keep your 15 children well-fed three years after the zombie apocalypse? One family had over 300 bottles of Squirt soda. Three words: Who needs that? It is organized hoarding!

Another family actually took out an extra insurance policy on their stockpile that had taken up two bedrooms and was threatening a third. Doesn’t that negate the whole idea of getting free food if you’re just paying the GEICO gecko to keep it safe from “acts of God”?

Especially after going to Ghana, my views on this are skewed. In Ghana, like many countries, you eat what is available; you don’t have the luxury of choosing between pizza, sushi, burritos, pork rinds or any other food your inner fat child is craving. In Ghana, you’re probably eating chicken, rice, plantains or foo foo for just about every meal. Having a personal food stockpile is a luxury most people in other countries couldn’t even conceive of. In fact, relying on a grocery store for all your food needs is a luxury many can’t conceive of. As Americans, we’re so jaded by the convenience of accessing food. Extreme Couponing takes this notion…well, to the extreme.

Sure, getting free food is great, and I understand that when times are tough, you do what you gotta do to put food on the table. But if you can barely consume your food before its expiration date, you may have gone overboard. Not to mention, most of the foods on coupon are processed, which would explain the morbid obesity that seems to plague many of these extremists.

The amount of time people spend collecting and organizing coupons is a full-time job. You could actually be getting paid real money for a real job instead of dumpster diving for coupons and demanding management to override your 70 coupons for children’s Dimetapp. That’s right – you don’t even have kids.

Sticks and stones may break my bones, but extreme couponing is consumerism at its worst.

What do you think of Extreme Couponing?

Vampires make great therapists

image found here.

Eeks. Life has gotten a bit overwhelming in the last week or so, hence the lack of updating. In the spirit of taking my mind off it, and the fact that my parents don't like their shit on blast (my words not theirs), I'm not going to delve too deep into everything that's going on. All I'm going to say is that I've found a great way to distract myself: True Blood and kalimotxos (soo good).  

My boyfriend added HBO to our cable package. Normally, I would have thought, "Do we really need this?" But the second I fatefully clicked on the title True Blood, it made it all worth it. In fact, we're already well into season 2 and we just got HBO last week. I fully intend on being caught up before season 4 starts in June.

The thing is, Boyfriend and I rarely agree on television shows unless its Jersey Shore or Cops (I guess we bond over delinquent drunks...not sure what that says about us). But he's actually gotten really into True Blood too. Even if its only because there's a nipple scene every five minutes, it's nice to have a show we enjoy watching together. In the end, I'd rather be spending time with him anyway.

Aww warm fuzzies!

Sticks and stones may break my bones, but vampires are great coping mechanisms.