The couple that gets healthy together, gets injured together

Because signs weren’t already pointing to the nursing the home, now my boyfriend has landed in physical therapy and we’re both going on a date to get MRI’s. Someone’s going to have to come take care of our dog because we’re getting too elderly to manage. I’m going to have to have a hip-eotomy and he’s going to have to have a back-eotomy. And they lived happily ever after…in matching hospital beds. Ayi yi!

Just Call Me Grandma

Bunch of jerks.

“A runner is only as happy as his unhappiest joint.” – Marc Parent, ”One Ugly Run,”  Runner’s World, March 2011

I read that line as I was skimming my monthly subscription of Runner’s World last night, and it hit a little too close to home. For the last four months, I’ve been dealing with hip pain that has gotten increasingly worse. Initially, it was thought to be hip flexor tendinitis. But as of late, it has become quite clear that there is something more sinister at hand. 

I’ve been going to physical therapy twice a week for three months (thank GOD for good insurance), and at one point, I felt that I was getting better. I was excited when I could finally do the butterfly stretch again - a victory over my hip joint! I would read Runner’s World in a state of hope. Still, I was envious of those that had the ability to run, pain-free, but still had confidence that I could one day join the team again – even if it was just 5ks and not the half marathons I had begun to fall for. Now, the magazine just pisses me off. It’s like dangling a carrot in front of a rabbit that can’t hop.

Somehow, things started going downhill. Positions that I was able to do when my hip was starting to feel better are suddenly excruciating. Exercises that were prescribed by my physical therapist are now painful and seem to make it worse. My hip pain has become so bad, that sitting down feels awful (I now sit at my desk slouched, with one leg extended, the other bent so I don’t slide right off my chair). I couldn’t even sleep through the night and was near tears earlier this week. 

They suspect that I have a labral tear, which is cartilage in my hip joint. Or it could be some kind of impingement – it feels like something is constantly pinched, and that my leg is jammed in my hip. I got an X-Ray done yesterday, and preliminary results came back showing that there were osteophytes on my pelvic bone and some other scary medical term I couldn’t quite understand by googling. But after googling osteophytes, I learned that they are bone spurs caused by cartilage breaking down, bone rubbing against each other and more bone forming in an attempt to heal itself. It’s an early sign of osteoarthritis, which is pretty much incurable (AAAAAH!!!!) And then I started wondering if that’s what is going on with my ginormous big toe – maybe it’s just one huge bone spur. I’ve actually had people ask me if it was arthritis. (AAAAHHH!!!!)

BUT I have an appointment to go over these results with my doctor on Monday, so I’m trying NOT to freak out before having more answers (Yeah right. I invented the Jump to Conclusions mat before that guy did in Office Space. Worry wort is my middle name).  Either way, I’m getting an MRI so they can see what is really going on in there. 

I am also going to see an orthopedic surgeon. When I called the first referral I was given, the receptionist said, “I don’t think you’re old enough to be a patient here…this doctor specializes in hip replacements,” before I even told her what was going on. Turned out she was right – he wasn’t an appropriate specialist for my specific condition, but I couldn’t believe someone would say that! Excuse me, receptionist, but there are young people roaming the earth in old people’s bodies. Rude. You can just call me Grandma from now on.

I will keep you all posted Sticks and Stoners. It is looking as though running is much, much farther off than I could imagine. It just might be time to get a permanent spot in the water aerobics class with the old folks and trade in Runner’s World for AARP’s publication. 

Sticks and stones may break my bones, but apparently, I’m growing some extras to break.

For the Loathe of Money

Obviously I'm finding time to write, so I'm putting a stop this hiatus business. Yippee!

I'm going to be completely honest about my finances - since college, I have struggled to pay off my credit card debt. Since last year, I'm finally in a place where I earn enough to live comfortably while making a dent in my debt and establishing somewhat of a savings account. But it didn't have to be that way. In fact, it shouldn't have been that way at all.

Rather than putting myself on a budget in college, I put everything on my credit card and made minimum payments. I was too lazy to apply for scholarships past my freshman year, and took out more student loans than I needed to cover day-to-day expenses. Four years after graduating, I'm still paying off that same credit card and have a ways to go on my student loans.

However, I am proud to say that as of today, I owe less on my credit card now than I did when I first opened it (all expenses for a study abroad trip were immediately charged. Rather than paying off the amount, my purchases kept mounting). I am on track to have this completely paid off in a few short months. This will mark the second year in a row that my entire tax return will be applied to my outstanding balance. I've been making $400 payments each month in order to rid myself of the drinks, pedicures and late-night food runs I didn't need in college.


I am sharing this with you because the vast majority of us have debt in some way, shape or form. Some of us are much better at managing it than others. It's definitely not the most comfortable subject to discuss. I was inspired to share this with you after reading a CNN article about a woman who went on a self-inflicted spending fast. Not a penny was spent unless it was rent, bills or groceries. No eating out, no clothes shopping, not even gifts for holidays.

While most would balk at the idea of living so frugally by choice, getting rid of $18,000 of debt doesn't sound like a shabby trade either. I was drawn to her blog, And Then She Saved (which you can find by clicking on the Blog Love tab). She has some really great tips on saving money, but at the same time, shares her emotional journey of living simply in a society that encourages everyone to spend, spend, spend. Her blog has an honesty that most financial columns don't. She doesn't take the "shame on you approach" all too familiar to Suze Orman's advice, and she doesn't yell and scream about investing like Jim Cramer's Mad Money. She admits her spending got out of hand, and that she is taking measures to turn it around - a simple approach to financial health.

Since paying down a big chunk of her debt, she has since traded in her spending fast for a spending diet, and is currently blogging about her experiences on a small budget.

Wherever you are with your finances, it's never too late to start turning them around. I finally sat down and stared at my credit card bill and simply said, "Starting today, you are going down." You have to do what works best for you, within your own means. It may take some time, but you shouldn't feel guilty over the things you should've done differently. Make a plan, and move on. I'm by no means done, but I do a little happy dance with every payment I make - a step closer towards my ultimate victory.

Sticks and stones may break my bones, but I am having a party the day I send in my payoff amount!

Sainthood, Journalism, Kidneys and Livers

I know I said I wasn’t going to update my blog but I’ve been extremely busy writing about some amazing people, hearing some amazing stories and continuously being in awe of cancer fighters, organ donors and their supporters. 

I had the opportunity to interview an inspiring woman who donated her kidney to a complete stranger. The donation occurred on the date of my mother’s birthday (who also happens to be on the liver transplant list). When I hung up with her, I sat down to write the story and just fought back tears. She was just so enlightening, and I couldn’t help but think of my mom. It was nice to speak with someone who had gone through the organ donation process and was so candid and excited to speak about it. I waited until the end of the interview to let her know what really sparked my interest in her story (my mom’s situation). 

When it was clear that I was too emotional to write anything worth reading, I stopped and opened up my email. I wrote to my mom about my interview, and just how ironic it was. It almost felt like I was meant to write that story. I believe everything happens for a reason. 

It was only a few short years ago that I felt that organ donation was just weird. I didn’t have a good reason for it, but I felt it was odd that someone else would have a part of me living in them long after I had ceased. And hell if I ever gave up an organ while I was alive.  It took my mom’s situation to change my mind about it. Donating an organ, whether you’re alive or dead, is the most you could ever give someone – their life. I feel that it automatically makes you a saint. This woman I interviewed was such a testimony to the value of human life. 

If she would let me, I would donate part of my liver to my mom in a heartbeat (the liver regenerates itself). My mom refuses to allow any of her daughters to undergo that surgery, so she will most likely receive one from a deceased person.

Today, after turning in the article (Yay! Big stressful cover story is done!), I came home to see Kathi Goertzen, an anchor on our local news, reveal what a brain tumor has done to her face. She has lost the function of the entire right side of her face, rendering her appearance abnormal. They kept talking about how much she has battled cancer, and how she was undergoing her sixth surgery to try to remove the tumor. I can only imagine how taxing that is not only on the body, but also on the mind. To see her giving it her all, and being so honest about her story, gives me hope for my mom. They are both strong women battling forces out of their control. It’s not always done with a smile. But it’s done with a purpose. 

As hard as it is to write some of these stories, I know that by telling them, somebody somewhere will say just like I did, “Wow. I wonder what I can do?” or ”Wow. I can relate. “

That is precisely the reason I love journalism and writing about other people. Journalism is the lifeline to humanity. You tell stories about lives that may seem ordinary to some, but make a world of impact to others. Everyone has a story. And I love giving people the opportunity to tell it.