Running.

Things seem to change so quickly that on one hand I wish I'd write more of it down, and on the other hand by the time I write it it's almost like it didn't even happen.

In the past 2 weeks...

I...

Uh...

Let's see...

Wore a short blue wig and juggled for a bunch of drug company upity ups, helped move the aerial dance company's space, tasted a 25 year old tawny port, cleaned my apartment 3 times, got a few new clients, had one of my clients tell me that she loves exercising with me and I better not ever quit or "I'll [she'll] follow you" (that was nice to hear), did a 2 day shoot for Dave and Busters where I had to hang out in an arcade for 12 hours a day sitting in front of windex sprayed food and salt filled beer (it keeps a foamy head on top so it looks fresh), wore high heels for a few hours which made my knee hurt a lot...

and today I ran on a treadmill in physical therapy for the first time in three and a half months.

I just got a new client that is rehabbing from a car accident (she's pretty much totally better). Did an assesment yesterday and she was talking about how hard it's been to be so limited and feel like "a 95 year old woman who can't do anything". That it's been like, "6 weeks and I'm so Frustrated...I'm finally feeling mostly back to normal but it's taken Forever!"

...

6 weeks.

"Forever".

When I kept telling her that "I understand too well" I'm not sure if she really got just How Much. 6 weeks? SIX WEEKS? I started to be able to walk without a limp at 6 weeks. Try 12 weeks. Or, no, 14...I think. And things still aren't "normal". I'm in that growly angry place of ThisisnevergoingtogetbetterandwhyisittakingsofuckinglongandwhydoesitstillhurtinadifferentwayandOhMyGodi'mSOoverit. I understand where she's coming from, and while I can be, nay, Am highly compassionate about it, part of me is like...yeah..._____. (That's me not really knowing what to say.)

I thought that running on a treadmill might make me sort of proud of myself today, but it mostly felt like I was being mocked. I don't know by who or what, but it was like my body was patronizing me.

And I felt [strike that] Was all jiggly. Everywhere. Gross.

Oops, sorry, my insecurity is showing.

I should quit writing for the day while my censor is still working a little bit.

Overwhelmed.

Title says it all, folks.

I am a walking, talking, [sometimes] breathing, real live personification of overwhelmed. Oh the days that I was laying on my back on lots of drugs not doing anything.

I guess I needed to go to the extreme so that someday I'll be able to find "normal" again.

And uh...gas at $3.69 a gallon? REALLY? Seriously?? How is that fucking POSSIBLE? I remember when $1.32 was "expensive". UGH.

What They Don't Tell You.

The WOMBATS told me that I'm up to 131 degrees. I should be ecstatic. Should be. But what they don't tell you about "getting your range of motion back" is that it doesn't really include getting the strength back, the flexibility back, and the OwPleaseStopPullingSoMuchWhat'sHappening feeling leaving any time soon. So, laying on my back, I can pull my own leg up (using just my battered hamstring) to about 126. Then I can pull it (semi-comfortably [though the word "comfortable" has a whole new meaning to me at the moment]) using my hands or scooting down towards it and today was at 131, with only mild STOPMkayTHANKS feelings. But how is that practical? I do mini-squats and my goddamn quad shakes like it's made of fucking jello or something. And my body looks like jello at the moment too, which I'm also not pleased about.

I can sort of walk properly (if I really work on BendHeelToeBendHeelToe), it kind of tries to hyper extend at certain moments, the hamstring attachment (that's the really hurty place that was inhibiting a lot of the bend last week) is still really irritated but now that they're sure that's what it is, Amy did some massage on it and that helped a Ton. There's a lot of pulling on the bottom of my quad, where one of the scars is. My chiropractor "talked" to my knee (no, seriously, I actually believe that he did. He also made some of the swelling go down somehow.) and said that "it's really bruised up...and really beaten up....but they did a really good job." Jesus H. Christ I hope it's true. And even if it's not, I just need to believe him anyways.

I have to go take a software proficiency test to be in the "temp" pool for The University that I'd like to get some part time hours out of. You know the other thing they don't tell you? They don't tell you that your MFA doesn't mean anything if you don't know how to make an Excel document. Sad, huh. Hopefully I'll know enough for the test. I got a part time position as a personal trainer (which I'd rather do SO MUCH MORE than temping) at a small clinic which I'm really excited about. I start that next week I think.

My brain is still foggy, I usually know what day it is but the fact that I have PT on M, W, F and I already had it once this week helps me to remember that "oh, it must be Wednesday." I can't remember times of appointments that I made or what I need to do today or tomorrow or how long I slept or anything. Hormones or the last dregs of vicodin leaving my system. Who knows.

So what do you do when someone asks you what you want for your birthday and really the only answer is "my old normal life back".

Great now I'm crying.

I guess some stuff for my new apartment would be nice too. That answer scares people away a little bit less.

Here are pictures from today, 3 weeks (actually, 3 weeks and 1 day) after ACL surgery. It doesn't even look like anything fucking happened. I've had rope burns 10 times worse that the stupid like scratches on my leg. Lame. I wish it felt as good on the inside as it looks on the outside (except for the pale fatty thing going on. Ignore that.)

In the photo below, the little diagonal mark above my knee cap is the place that pulls a lot. Methinks that's where they had to go through the muscle to get to bone and crap. But who the hell knows. It's still a bit swollen. The 2 little up and down marks (actually they're all "X"s but the cross part healed completely already) are right on the sides/on the knee cap. So yeah. Still sort of swollen up on that QuadBump.

Almost 2 Weeks.

It doesn't feel like it, but it's only been Almost 2 Weeks since Gnometenna Removal 2008. It feels like months. Feb 19th. It's now March 2nd. March. When the fuck did that happen?! Yeah. 12 days ago. That makes no sense to my poor brain.

Got out of the house last nigth with Auntie and Uncle, so that was really nice. Wore clothes that weren't sweat pants and felt a little bit more like a functioning member of society. Uncle used his built in gnomeometer skills and said that my bend is probably around 98 degrees. Cool. Small improvements. Though this morning I felt all tight and tired and there's this one spot that just hurts. I want to know what it is. Is is where the graft is attached? Is it the bone bruise? Is it a bumped hamstring tendon? What?!!? I wish I had X-Ray vision.

I got a package of awesome stuff from a friend in Cambridge, UK yesterday. Really made my day.

I'm sort of (*snort*. "sort of". right. how about "Big Time") in a cranky mood today. Exercises were difficult this morning and I'm worried about work (and the lack of doing it), I feel totally and completely Outta Sight Outta Mind with some important people in my life (though I've talked to a few people that I didn't expect to hear from, so that was nice), I can't drive anywhere (though honestly where would I go), and this rehab/recovery is feeling less and less "temporary" as the days go by. I know it is temporary, but I have all sorts of horrible feelings float in every so often of ohshitwhatifthisisn'ttemporaryican'tseetheforrestdangerdangerdanger. I just need a lot of encouragement I think. Maybe I haven't told people exactly how much I need. Maybe I should do that. Oh how I wish people could read my mind. I feel silly wishing that I would get hundreds (ok not hundreds.) of calls every day from people just checking in. "You're doing great" "Thinking about you" "Etc. Etc." Fact of the matter is I have had some of these calls which, again, is really nice. On Cranky Days the people who aren't around seem to push their way into my mind more. Unfortunately.

I love my theracane but it is not making my upper back feel much better. I feel like my shoulderblades are covered in rocks. I'm super thirsty but don't really want to drink anything, sort of hungry but I think I might just be bored, feel like I want to just go RUNNING but we know that that's not going to happen for a while, sort of on the edge of tears but "what's the point"...maybe a small case of the stir-crazies are setting in.

Maybe I'll start reading that book Kiersten sent. Though I'm not going to get paid for doing that. I never thought I'd say that I really wish I could drive into work today.