Cabin Fever

I am so bored.  Bored, bored, bored.  I looked up synonyms for the word bored, and everything pales in comparison.  Blasé, disinterested, dull, fatigued, inattentive, sick and tired, spiritless, tired, turned off...none of these words express what I'm feeling like the word bored.  Bored.  Bored.

Yesterday was the first day I went outside since seeing off Spaniard at the airport last Friday.  Yesterday was the highlight of my week.  Yesterday I went to the dentist.

I have always been a big fan of going to the dentist.  Nothing quite compares to that smooth, slippery clean tooth feeling.  I love getting all that plaque scraped out from between my teeth, because I will admit right here that I only floss the day or two leading up to a dentist appointment and various times throughout the year as needed.  Regardless of what's going on between my teeth, my dentist told me years ago that I have "Excellent brushing technique!", and I've depended on that to make up for my flossing failings.

Why am I discussing my oral hygiene habits?  Because I'm bored.  Bored.  Bored. 

I'm still staying with my parents at their house, but my dad the "Funmaker" is out of town and my mom keeps herself busy piddling around in the kitchen doing God only knows what.  Therefore, I pass my days indoors in my pajamas, watching the World Cup, perusing the Internet, stretching my foot, and watching home real estate shows on TV.  Could I be using this time more productively?  Like, say, studying Spanish, catching up on blogging (December 2008 onwards), reading?  Well, I'm afraid to say that this is where bored turns into blasé.  I have no excuse for why I haven't been more proactive indoors, but in my defense, I physically can't go outside by myself because every exit from the house involves stairs.   I think it's a conspiracy.  And I think I need a change of scenery pronto.

Oh, but today I flossed my teeth...the day after a dentist appointment.  Perhaps I am turning this boredom into productivity after all!

Woes of a Single Girlfriend

Well, I've taken a short hiatus from the blog, albeit an excusable one, as I was busy spending the past week entertaining the Spaniard during his short visit to the "Dirty South". 

I flew out of Miami last Friday and met up with Spaniard at the Atlanta airport as he was arriving from Dubai.  It was exciting to see him, after two months of Skype conversations and 8,000 miles apart.  We had dinner together in the airport before flying on to Valdosta, GA, the local airport near my parents' home.  We spent the weekend relaxing around their house, barrelling through the woods in my dad's souped-up golf cart, watching football (ahem...soccer), river kayaking (I had to stylishly wrap my cast in plastic bags and silver duct tape), and even fishing.  I actually caught my first fish since I was a kid!  The trick?  Casting out the line and leaving it out in the water while my dad circled the boat around the lake a few times (as I loosely held onto the fishing pole while staring off into space) until finally some stupid fish took a bite and I reeled it in hysterically...Spaniard caught a fish with the same technique.

Anyway, after a few days of redneck fun, Spaniard and I drove down to St. Augustine, the oldest city in the United States.  It was actually a former Spanish settlement, complete with fort and cobblestones, but Spaniard did not seem too impressed with our young country's version of an old town.  At any rate, we had a very relaxed time...except for the constant bickering!  You would think that after two months apart, two people could pick up right where things left off and have a lovely time, especially when they only have a few days together. 

Unfortunately, I can be a bit of a drama queen and hard to handle at my best, so I take full credit for the tension.  I have always loved my independence, and let's face it, I truly believe being single can be so much more pleasurable than being in a relationship.  You can be as selfish and obnoxious and immature as you want, you can do what you want when you want, and you don't have to worry about anyone else's feelings.  I suppose during my two months away from Spaniard, I had morphed back into my insouciant single persona, and I only had a few days to try to revert back into Girlfriend.  Nevertheless, I failed miserably, making sure to be bipolar and melodramatic at all the right moments.

Fortunately, by the time Spaniard left yesterday, we were friends again and I was forgiven and all was calm.  I'm actually looking forward to getting back to Dubai, and (after inevitably pushing through yet another Hell Week) becoming Girlfriend again...it's not such a bad thing, once you get used to it!

Hasta Luego Miami

Well, this was inevitable.  As much as I love being here in Miami, the time has come to say goodbye.  Coming here was actually never on the agenda, but when I couldn't find a decent surgeon in North Florida that would accept my Florida Medicaid plan, I had to drive six hours south for a result.  I am glad I did, as I love my hot doctor, had a terrific surgery, and have enjoyed staying with my sister and her family.  My niece, Lucia, is one cool little kid, and it has been fun hanging out with her and getting to know her (considering I've only seen her maybe four times before in her 2 1/2-year life, thanks to the fact that I live 8,000 miles away). 

So in an hour I'm off to the airport to fly north to Atlanta, where I will rendezvous with the Spaniard (who is also flying in from Dubai) and together we will connect to another flight that will take us down to my hometown, Valdosta, Georgia (a small town on the South Georgia/North Florida border...my parents actually live right over the state line in what we like to call BFE--Bum Fu** Egypt--or, the Middle of the Woods, Florida).  We will spend the weekend doing various redneck type activities, such as riding a golf cart through mud puddles, fishing, and/or shooting guns at metal barrels before heading down to St. Augustine, Florida a for few days.

I'm saying goodbye to Miami for now, but I will be back down here in just a few weeks for my next visit with Rico Suave, MD.  I will probably have to stay down here for some time after that, as I should be getting my cast off and starting physical therapy on my right foot. 

Ugly Cast

I went to Dr. Hot Cubano Thursday for my follow-up appointment after my Barbie-Feet-Fixing Surgery.  My right-leg splint was cut off to reveal a very Frankenstein-like foot...Scars and stitches galore!  I was kicking myself for not remembering my camera.  X-rays seemed to confirm a nice healing process, but all I noticed was that the little metal pins that pop out of the tips of my toes actually extend all the way down to the middle of my foot!  Needless to say, the nurse whispered that it might be a good idea to take some pain medicine before my next appointment and subsequent pin removal!

The doctor breezed in, said everything was fine, prescribed physical therapy for my left foot, and floated out with instructions for the nurse to apply a fiberglass cast to my right foot.  This was the moment I had been looking forward to for ages!  I excitedly rolled onto my stomach and tried my best to keep my knee bent, my uber-weak hamstrings working over-time!  After a few minutes, the nurse announced that she was finished...but wait, she didn't ask me what color I wanted!!!  So I said, "Umm...don't you have any fancy colors?"  And she just laughed at me!  I rolled over and stared at my new cast with disgust.  White.  Not even white--Off-white!  Yellowy, eggshell, creamy, off-white!  Ugh!  I had decided ages ago what color I was going to choose, I was going to go with a nice teal blue or maybe even a royal blue, but here I am, stuck with a big black Velcro boot on my left leg and an off-white cast that's already covered with dirt stains and drops of my niece's blue bubble solution on my right leg.  Fantastic. 

  

Yesterday I went in for my first physical therapy session.  After discussing my injury and surgery, the therapist informed me that with the Achilles lengthening, all I have to do is simply stretch my left foot and toes a few times a day.  Clearly, this is something I can do on my own, so I don't have to go into the rehab center again.  Of course, after my cast is removed this will be a different story, as my right foot underwent more elaborate procedures and therefore will need more elaborate therapy.  In the meantime, I'm happy to stay in my pajamas all day and not have to have a reason to go outside!

Writer's Block Unblocked!

I want to take this opportunity to make you all aware that I have decided to keep plugging into the "past" portion of this blog. Therefore, you will find a brand-new post in the December 2008 section that details what happened when I woke up the day after the Christmas Party. You wouldn't believe how relieved and instantly gratified I feel to finally have written that post! I tried and tried to get out of it, even threatening to write a book instead (as if!), but I finally overcame my fears, reminding myself that this blog is for me and I can do it how and when I want!

I do promise (to you and to myself) that from now on I will continuously update and get myself back on track with the purpose for which this blog was created in the first place.

Oh, who am I kidding with all that self-motivating BS?  The thing is, I really have an impossible amount of catching up to do, and let's be honest, I know along the way I'll get tired of it, or wonder "What's the point?", and when (not if) that happens I'll probably try to bail out again. Fact.  But then again, maybe I'll just get lucky and a screenwriter sees my fine blog-in-the-making and decides that it's a story made for Hollywood and gives me a crapload of money, or a publisher reads what I've got so far and says, "Amazing! I want to read more! Here's a $100,000 cash advance!".  Hmmm...

Barbie Feet

It has been exactly two weeks since my double foot surgery, and looking back on my previous posts, I have realized that I never thoroughly explained why I had these procedures.  Of course I attribute this information omission to the fact that I'm writing this blog ass-backwards.  At any rate, let me give you a short history leading up to my surgery.

One of the results of the nerve damage I received from my accident is that I have Chronic Foot Drop.  This means that whichever nerve operates my feet and ankles was damaged and I do not have the power to point or flex my feet at the ankles or wiggle my toes (I could move a few toes right after my accident, but not anymore!).  Therefore, my feet flop into a limp pointing position when I'm seated or lying down, and while walking I have to wear ankle braces to keep my limp feet from dragging on the ground and tripping me.

However, within a few months of my accident I began to notice that my feet and toes were beginning to stiffen into that pointed position, a position I like to call "Barbie Feet".  When I would wake up in the morning, my Achilles tendons would be so tight and contracted that upon getting out of bed I would have to stand still for about five minutes on my tippy-toes and allow my body weight to slowly push my heels back on the ground. 

This was really no problem until I stopped going to work everyday and started getting lazy, not walking much if I could help it and not stretching my feet enough.  My foot drop quickly worsened, and after spending a month on bed-rest due to a toe infection, my poor little Barbie feet were so bad that no matter how much I stretched them or stood on them, I could no longer push my heels to the floor!  Actually, my Achilles tendons were so tight that my ankles started bending and twisting in weird directions, so that only the big toe of each foot was on the ground, and I was afraid that I would eventually snap my ankles in half.

As you can imagine, it was very difficult to walk with all that going on below the ankles.  I had been told by several doctors in the US and Spain that I would need the Achilles lengthening/tendon transfer surgeries if I wanted to walk properly again, but I fought it.  After all, it was just some tight muscles...surely I could stretch them back out if I put my mind to it?

I later learned that with spinal cord injuries and nerve damage, the "Barbie Feet" syndrome is actually quite common, and sometimes no amount of stretching or exercise can prevent it from getting worse, especially in the first eighteen months following one's accident.  As you can imagine, I was thrilled to shift the blame away from my laziness to the injury! 

So now I have had the surgeries to loosen up the Achilles contractures and to bring my feet back into pleasant ninety-degree angles.  The doctors actually performed more procedures on my right foot because A) it was worse and B) they wanted to make sure the surgery was successful, as I'm still in the 18-month-things-could-still-get-worse range.  They also put metal pins through each toe of my right foot to straighten them out, as even the little muscles in my toes have tightened, creating little claws.

I will still have plenty of physical therapy ahead of me (probably for the rest of my life), and I must always wear ankle braces while I walk and when I sleep to keep my feet from permanently dropping again, but I will do everything in my power to make sure that my feet will not regress and I will not need a repeat of this surgery in the future.  I am also looking forward to walking again (albeit on my trusty crutches)!

Tomorrow is my first follow-up appointment with Hot Doctor since the surgery...hopefully all is healing well and I will trade in my post-op splints for a pair of fancy plaster casts.

Bye-bye Barbie Feet!