Foot, Part Deux

This is the "before" X-ray;
I neglected to snap the "after"

I suppose I've been posting here infrequently enough that my prolonged absence after glibly reporting that I was headed to surgery didn't cause any alarm, so that's good!

In fact, the surgery went really well. The most unpleasant thing was probably just waiting for it to start: feeling frumpy and naked in one of those drafty gowns, a hairnet, my glasses, and no make up, whilst being grilled by a bevy of medical professionals. Oh, and hungry and thirsty; my surgery was at 2, and I hadn't been permitted to eat or drink anything after 10pm the night before. The nurses were extraordinarily kind to me, though; they wrapped me up in heated blankets, and even switched out my pillow on the operating table for a comfier one, even though I was planning to be as little aware of it, and everything else, as possible. (The anesthesiologist was kind of a jerk; he told me I might wake up during surgery, but that it wasn't a big deal if I did. Ahem? [Thankfully, I didn't.])

So. They gave me something delightful to knock me out; although I felt it tingling through my veins as I did when I had my wisdom teeth out, I mostly felt chill and awesome. Then they slipped the oxygen mask on and I went under.

I woke up without crying, and felt pretty excellent as the nurses helped me off the table and into a chair and wheeled me into recovery. I felt even better when they brought me snacks, and lots of water! David tells me I was a little loopy as we heard the post-surgery instructions, although I felt pretty clear-headed--just nice and chill, still. My foot didn't hurt at all (I ended up not regaining full sensation in my toes until Monday!), and before long at all they wheeled me out to the curb, where David helped me load into the car with my foot on the dashboard.

The next few days were super lame. I was in a surgical shoe, so I could put weight on my foot, but only to go from the couch to the bathroom or bed. I took some Vicodin that night, out of caution, but it just knocked me out and messed up my sleep schedule. I did a lot of reading and cuddling with the kittens. It was spring break, so I thankfully didn't have to do any teaching work.

Tonight

Anyway, even when I regained feeling in my foot, it didn't hurt much, although it turned all sorts of colors. I had my first post-op visit on Wednesday, when I got my first look at the incision, had an X-ray, and got a nice lighter dressing. (The X-ray was amazing; I only snapped a picture of the "before" image, but that big bump on my joint is totally gone in the "after.") The next week I had my stitches out. Today I went in for another follow-up, and got the green light to do yoga. Within the next two to four weeks, my podiatrist says, I can even start easing into running. Don't worry: I am obviously going to take it very slowly. But it is a very exciting thought, especially since our weather has been preternaturally vernal!

Obviously, I've been taking pictures. Here they are, if you want to see them.* They're not too gruesome, for the most part, although my toenails do look pretty nasty from the betadine. And I've been Mederma-ing my scar, but I do kind of like how simultaneously badass and feminine (pink! like cherry blossoms!) it looks.

*Picassa's not letting me add captions right now, and it's past my bedtime, but I'll try to add them later. They're roughly chronological, and the flowers are from my mom and David (who also got me a  fruit arrangement!).

Foot

This is my foot (along with my helpful assistant Pobbes,* who is perpetually intrigued with the camera's wrist strap). The divot you see just below and to the right of the center of the photograph is a scar from the time I dropped my bike on my foot and the chain ring bit out a chunk. It and a mark from another of the teeth are more visible when my foot tans and the scars remain white, but as I attempted to photograph it today, I realized how subtle it is.

Today is the last day that will be the most noticeable scar on my foot.

Remember the X-ray I posted a while ago, showing the apparent source for my toe woes? And how the cortisone injection I had in November (November?!) made it so much better? Well. That wore off, and my foot went back to hurting as much, if not more, than before. It felt worse, anyway, since I was virtually pain free while the cortisone lasted. So! I went back to the podiatrist, and we decided that after exhausting the conservative options, it was time to consider surgery.

He suggested a minimally invasive procedure called a cheilectomy, in which he will remove the osteophyte, clean up the joint, perhaps drill some to stimulate production of new collagen, rinse everything, and then sew me back up. This should take, in his estimate, about 20 minutes. Recovery (which will mostly take place over spring break, next week) will involve a surgical shoe, but no boot or crutches. I only have to wear the shoe while I'm on my feet, and while the stitches are in (10-14 days), and he thinks I can be back to running in three to six months.** (When we were initially discussing the surgery, I immediately did the math in my head, and determined that this would potentially allow me to train for the Twin Cities Marathon--though even I realize this is a bad idea.)

So. I have no illusions that this will be a magical fix, or that my young, healthy, athletic, non-smoking ways will make for a perfectly non-eventful surgery or recovery. But after so long living with this, and having been forced to stop running altogether (and even walking as much as I would like to!), I'm read to give this fix a try. I check in to the surgical center in just over an hour.

*Pobbes is one half of a Kitten Problem we acquired in late January to deal with our (then) Mouse Problem. He and his littermate Isis (Icy) have educated me on just how quickly such small animals can become such a huge source of love (and frustration!). Most of you who still read here are already my FB friends and have access to my "(Almost) Daily Kitten" album, but I'd also be happy to post more kitty pix here!

**My podiatrist is a runner--marathoner, Bostoner, and triathlete--and he is the one whose focus has consistently been on running, which I think is pretty fantastic.

Christmas Cards

This year, as particularly Alert readers may have noticed, I didn't post my customary Christmas card notice. Then again, since I abruptly stopped posting anything three weeks into NaBloPoMo, it might not have been particularly surprising.

In any case, I did send out cards this year, but they went to people whose addresses I already had. I ended up having my cards professionally printed this year, and although I got a steal of a deal on them, I didn't think I could afford to expand my list much this year.* As it was, I had to have an extra one printed for me at Kinko's. Oh, but, yeah! I totally recommend Picaboo for card printing. Envelopes are even included, so with the deal I got, it was actually cheaper to have Picaboo print my cards than to do the photo-printing, card stock-buying, and envelope-procuring on my own (let alone much easier than the cutting and glue-sticking).

Ordinarily, of course, I show the previous year's card when I solicit this year's requests. Since I didn't get that done this year, though, I'll just show you last year's and tell you now that if you send me your address (disasterkitchen ((at)) gmail.com) now, I'll send you next year's:

As you may have noticed (with cards from 2009, 2008, and 2007 for reference), the cards have just gotten more elaborate and generally weirder. This year's is the weirdest yet, but I won't post it here until next year.

Meanwhile, several of you Alert Readers also sent fantastically creative cards this year! I do admit to loving the ones with adorable children/babies, and even the ones with cute couples, but quite possibly my favorite was Bog Lemming Superstar's. It took the non-traditional Christmas card to truly new heights, which I'll let her share if she so desires. Well done, I say.

So. I'm still sort of pretending it's the holidays--partly because about 3am yesterday I woke up with my every-two-to-three-years stomach bug** and spent nearly all day in bed, and have today been similarly low on productivity (and eating). The thought of gearing up for a semester that will include TA-ing (and teaching sections) for one class, teaching another two online, and, ideally, finishing my dissertation, is tiring even at full-strength. So, for at least one more day, happy holidays!

*See also: not blogging.
**Vegetarians are thankfully not very food poisoning prone

Failing

This morning I am feeling like a tiny bit of a failure. I think I'll blame it all on the snow that fell yesterday.

Snow yesterday afternoon

I failed to go to yoga this morning because I didn't feel like navigating the snowy roads. This is particularly embarrassing because only about two inches fell yesterday. It was apparently on top of freezing rain, though, rendering the streets a bit treacherous. I say apparently, however, because (failing!) I haven't even been outside since I got home from yoga yesterday morning. Anyway, I didn't feel like risking it for my non-favorite instructor this morning--though I'll almost certainly risk it for brunch with friends later.


I also failed at NaBloPoMo daily posting. I realized this morning that I had entirely forgotten to post yesterday, despite the fact that I had totally planned what I was going to do. Maybe it was because I'd thought about it so much that I forgot to actually do it? Maybe I'll blame the snow.

Here is a happier picture on which to end:
David carrying Bruno in the laundry basket

Finally. I may be failing to keep myself well, based on the sore throat I woke up with this morning. As it seems to be disappearing as I drink my tea, however, maybe it's just due to... breathing cold air all night?

SNOW, I SHAKE MY FIST AT YOU!

Toe

Hey, remember my bum toe? Weirdly, I don't seem to have talked about it here all that much--probably because it's too depressing. That, and before NaBloPoMo I was hardly blogging at all.

Well. It was hurting a lot: when I ran, obviously (though I was hardly doing that any more, thanks to the pain), but also when I walked, when I stood, when I woke up in the morning, at the end of the day... It hurt all the time, and the joint was red and swollen.

I saw an orthopedic surgeon, who said the only solution for me was surgery. He also said that although he would do his best to preserve the joint, if he couldn't save it, fusion would be the only option. I had to be okay with waking up from surgery with that joint fused: he didn't want any tears. Ahem. Apparently this has been a problem with former patients? I can appreciate his honesty, but I didn't love the approach.

I was pretty bummed about the surgery thing, but was in so much pain, and so much more bummed about not being able to run (the surgeon did say he had fusion patients who had run their best marathons post-surgery) that I still thought I'd have to go for it.

Before I did, though, I decided, at my dad's urging, to see a podiatrist.

Not being able to run, and being in constant pain, was making me really depressed, so it took quite a while to set that appointment up, but I finally did it.

The podiatrist was much more personable, and he told me that my hallux rigidus* was in an early stage and would likely respond well to conservative treatment--no need for surgery, at this point.

That was super encouraging! I was excited to see how the inserts he made for me, and wearing my running shoes all the time, would make my feet feel.

They made them feel a little better--but not much. So I went back, and he adjusted the inserts again. Better yet, he prescribed physical therapy, which ended up being the most effective solution to date. In addition to having the toe stretched and adjusted, and learning new exercises and stretches, I received transdermal acetic acid via iontophoresis. Although it raised tiny blisters on my skin every time we did it, it significantly reduced the pain and swelling in the joint. I was so happy to have found something that worked!

My toe got so much better that after a few weeks my PT suggested we stop and see how things went on their own. As it happened, my toe went back to bad about a week after my last acetic acid treatment. And because I was back in pain, and super bummed, it took me a long time to make another appointment (see above).

But I did. I went back to the podiatrist on October 20 and told him that even though I was wearing comfy shoes with his inserts, and wasn't even running, my foot was still driving me crazy. So he suggested a cortisone shot, which is one more thing to try before considering surgery (surgeries that he described as far more minor than what the orthopod had mentioned!).

He gave me a shot of anaesthetic on top of my foot, and then stuck a thin needle right into the joint. It did hurt, but it was over quickly, and I was able to walk right out of the office afterward. The joint, full as it was of extra fluid, felt stiff for a while, but soon felt amazing. I didn't feel any pain at all! I actually laughed out loud at myself when I realized that was because the anaesthetic was still doing its work. When that wore off, my toe hurt, worse than before. I limped around for the rest of the day.  It still hurt on the 21st, but by the 22nd, it was feeling significantly better.

Since then, it has been great! I do still feel it sometimes, especially after yoga or after a spell in non-sensible shoes. Occasionally it will pop, too, but it rarely hurts significantly. In fact, it's almost like having a normal foot again! I can hardly express how wonderful this is, and what a relief it is to not have foot pain gnawing at the back of my mind all the time. I haven't tried running on it yet, but feel very optimistic about the possibility!

It's unclear how long the shot will be effective, and he said it's not the sort of thing he generally likes to repeat. However, I've talked to people whose cortisone shots have lasted them years. I'm hoping that's the case for me, too!

Wow. That got long.


*Have I mentioned that that's my diagnosis? Latin for stiff big toe.

Things That Are Awesome VIII

Things That Are Awesome VIII (the winter edition):

• Fleece sheets. Before David's parents bought us these for Christmas, I didn't even know they existed. I've had flannel sheets for years, but these blow those out of the water on the warmth front. They're basically very soft, thin fleece blankets, sewn into a standard sheet set configuration, and they are amazing. When they're pre-heated with the electric blanket, climbing between them is like curling up in a teddy bear's warm innards. Delightful.
• Smartwool muffler. This was another Christmas present, this one from my sister. It is the heaviest, nicest scarf I've ever owned--made of soft merino wool, and thick and "tall" enough that it sits structurally on my shoulders and covers my face (as you can see in the picture to the left; for the photo from this earlier post, I had pulled it down only for as long as it took to take the photo [promptly numbing everything below my eyes]). It is wonderful!
• Flannel neck-warmer. David's sister Becca made this for me for Christmas, and I've never gotten so many compliments on an accessory! I'm hoping she adds them to her Esty shop so that I can direct interested parties there. This picture doesn't actually show it all that well--but does show one of the Brand New People I met over Christmas (Brian and Liesl's!), and the lovely arm warmers David bought me. Since I wear the neck-warmer all the time, you'll probably see it soon in another picture, anyway.
• Winter pedicure! I've mentioned the hour-long, $15 pedicures at my local beauty school. The lovely warm soak and scrubbing felt extra-special yesterday, even though I had to put my Smartwool socks and big boots on and trudge back to the car through the snow. Those toes are coming out in two weeks, though, when we head to Orlando for Mandy's wedding! Saint Paul College is also where I get the sunscreen I mentioned last time, and this stuff:
• Pevonia Botanica Problematic Skin Care Cream. Oh, yes, my skin is problematic--or was, until I found this moisturizer (paired with CeraVe Hydrating Cleanser alternating with Pevonia's Phyto-Gel Cleanser). These products (except for the CeraVe, which I found myself) were all recommended by the aestheicians at SPC--where I can get them at approximately 25% or more off retail. Even so, they cost more than I've been used to paying for skin care products, but are so worth it for the results: namely, my skin looking and feeling the best it has in many, many years. Combined with periodic facials, they seem to actively calm and improve my skin (versus the treatments I've tried over the years, many of them dermatologist-prescribed, that aggressively dry or otherwise aggravate it in the name of controlling break-outs). I moisturize twice daily with the cream (over a drop or two of SkinCeuticals' Hydrating B-5 gel if I'm flaky [which can happen here in the winter!]; keeping my skin hydrated and calmed seems to work better for me than any other "treatments." Or maybe, after two decades of it, I've finally just (mostly) outgrown my acne; who knows.
• J Crew's winter sale. 40% off of all sale items with code MUSTHAVE. For real! The web store wasn't applying my discount, so I called customer service--and was given free shipping for my "trouble"! I got $265 worth of (originally-priced merchandise) for a fraction of that. Deal ends tomorrow, though, so hurry!
  

What are your Awesome Things this winter?

Sunscreen

It may seem silly to be discussing sunscreen in the middle of winter, but here in Mpls, anyway, the sun is shining (and reflecting off the snow everywhere), and the small amount of skin that's uncovered still needs to be protected.

As a pale person, with at least partially red hair, a tendency to freckle, and a familial history of skin cancer, I know that it's especially important for me to wear sunscreen daily. However, I haven't always been particularly good at it, mostly because said pale skin is also morbidly sensitive and tends to break out at the mere thought of new chemicals. I've tried any number of drugstore moisturizers with SPF, and last year, at the recommendation of my aesthetician,* sprung for SkinCeuticals' Ultimate Defense moisturizing sunscreen.

However, although that product was definitely superior to others I'd tried, I still felt like it left me looking and feeling somewhat greasy--and had a suspicion that it might be responsible for the stubborn whiteheads I couldn't quite clear up. I found myself not wearing it as consistently as I should, and so when I was back at the clinic this spring, I asked if they had any other recommendations.

As it happened, they did: another SkinCeuticals product, recently released, called Sheer Physical UV Defense. This sunscreen is hands-down the most amazing sunscreen I've ever tried--and in the running for most amazing skincare product generally. It's in a small bottle (TSA-approved!), and you shake it (hearing the little agitator ball rattle around, like in spray paint) before applying the liquid to your face in small sections. The "mattifying fluid" absorbs instantly and easily, leaving a beautifully smooth surface that's perfect whether or not you apply make up over it. My skin doesn't even seem to notice it's there, which is saying a lot. Best of all, because it's not in the least bit greasy and even seems to improve the look of my make up, I really do wear it every day.

It's definitely not a steal, but for me it's worth it knowing that my skin doesn't react to it and that I'll actually wear it daily, the way I'm supposed to. Especially if you have fussy skin and have been avoiding daily sunscreen for that reason, I highly recommend it!

*Really she's one of the instructors at Saint Paul College, where students give $15 facials as part of their curriculum, but I've been going for long enough that she recognizes me and talks to me about my skin and product suggestions.

Running*

Today I ran in shorts. Shorts! We hit 68° here today. By the time I was home from dissertation workshop and ready to head out, it was looking ready to storm, so I threw a long-sleeved shirt over my tank top. The rain held off, though, and I didn't need the extra shirt at all. In fact, I sweated. This weather is kind of freaking me out.

It's also great, though, because I really needed the run. I hadn't run since the Monster Dash, and was starting to feel crazy. I know they make drugs for this sort of thing, and I support their use, but I also know that a few miles spent getting my heart rate up does wonders for my mental state and doesn't require any troublesome prescriptions or appointments. Unfortunately, it's not side-effect free; my foot is pretty sore at the moment, and I've been hungry all night.

Hungry I can handle--and appreciate!--but the foot is troubling. How am I going to outrun the crazies on a broken foot?

*The title of the post reminds me of a costume I saw at the Monster Half: a refrigerator!

X-ray

Google informs me that today is the 115th anniversary of the discovery of the X-ray. In commemoration, or something, here is an X-ray of my malfunctioning foot, complete with helpful arrow pointing out the "one little problem. That little guy right there."
This image was taken in April; I think we X-rayed it for the first time in January. Seeing a very visible cause for the continuing pain in my foot was simultaneously relieving and disturbing. Happy anniversary, X-ray.

Whiplash & Hiplash

What makes for better blog fodder than personal injury stories, especially ones that involve epic air? Not much, I say!

So yesterday evening, I'm taking out the trash, and when I get to the bottom of the back stairs, the neighbor's adorable black lab puppy (though she's really more of a burly, if exuberant, teenager these days) rushes me. As she has done this before, I am prepared for her, and wait for her to reach the end of her staked tether and calm down (as much as she can) before I pet her. I'm in the middle of my "Gentle, gentle, good dog"s when I hear someone say, "Hello!"

It's my other downstairs neighbor, to whom I refer as my Hermit Neighbor, as I've talked to him maybe twice since he moved in at the end of last summer. He's leaning on his back railing, enjoying the beautiful evening, and I laughingly explain that as Rose had mauled (really just muddied) me the last time I came out with the trash, I now try to take appropriate precautions. Rose wanders to the far corner of the yard as we talk about what a nice spring it's been and how it's fun to have a puppy around, especially since we don't have to actually take care of her.

As we're chatting, we notice the chubby orange tabby that's been hanging around the neighborhood recently (and has actually tried, on more than one occasion, to follow David or me into the apartment). The cat comes up to me, and my neighbor mentions how friendly she is. I, seeing the cat looking at Rose, maybe five yards away, am in the middle of remarking how fearless she is, when it all falls apart.

I don't know whether Rose or the cat bolts first, but suddenly they're both making a headlong dash for the far corner of the yard, Rose in hot pursuit of the tabby. Rose, however, as you might remember, is tethered to a stake in the middle of the yard, and the kitty makes an easy escape.

I, unfortunately, am standing between the stake and the dashing puppy.

I'm not sure precisely what happens next, except that Rose presumably clothelines herself as she reaches the end of her tether, and I am flying through the air, swept off my feet. Okay, I'm not sure how much I actually flew. I did land on my back, rather hard, but mercifully on the soft dirt of the lawn and not on the sidewalk behind me. I hear John shout, "Are you okay?" and as I'm slowly picking myself up, see that he's run to Rose and is calming her. I am a bit disoriented, quite shaken, and becoming sore all over, but manage to laugh and ask him if it looked epic. He assures me that I did get some impressive air.

I really wish I could have seen it, especially since I can't quite figure out how I acquired all my injuries: while the head-neck-shoulder pain is fairly intuitive from whiplash, and the scraped elbows/forearms were acquired upon landing, why do both of my hips hurt? Not, presumably, from the landing, as a slightly bruised bum indicates that I thankfully managed to land not only on the softest part of the yard, but on my own best-padded region. My current theory is "hiplash"--that my legs got flung like my head did! And my head did apparently get soundly flung; when I got up, my hair, which had been pinned up, was significantly dislodged (and my brain still hurts a little).

When David got home about 20 minutes later, I told him I thought I was probably concussed, and he said that if I started throwing up, he would drive me to the hospital. Some sympathy!

Thankfully, there was no vomiting, although today I'm even sorer than yesterday and have continued to pop ibuprofen. I mostly feel lucky, for things like being young and fit enough to take that sort of epic fall in stride, for not hitting the sidewalk, for having someone witness my sweet air, etc.

I do kind of wish the witnessing neighbor hadn't been the hermit-inclined one, though; this is the kind of story for which one wishes a gregarious collaborator for the retelling!

H1N1

I just returned from being vaccinated against Swine Flu. I generally get a seasonal flu vaccine; the U gives them out free and encourages all of us to "Do it for the Herd!" Especially when I was TAing and interacting with hundreds of undergrads a week, it just made sense. (And last year I got to help set a Guinness World Record!)

This year, they ran out of seasonal flu vaccine very early on, and let us know they wouldn't be getting any more. They also had low supplies of H1N1 and were only vaccinating high-risk groups. They've apparently come into quite a large quantity of the vaccine recently, however, and are now encouraging everyone to get vaccinated.

Several months ago, I had been hesitant about receiving the vaccine. Wasn't the whole H1N1 thing just another big scare, inflated by the media? Sure, it was a little daunting that it was the young and healthy who seemed to get the sickest, but did we really all need to freak out?

And then I heard this on NPR, the title of which pretty much sums it up: "Debate Over H1N1 Vaccine? There Shouldn't be One." Physician Douglas Kamerow, former Assistant Surgeon General and research scientist, explains concisely and clearly why the vaccine is safe, an effective defense against a dangerous disease, and the responsible option for public health. He convinced me--as, I'd like to think, scientific evidence and respected authority generally do. Unfortunately, due to the aforementioned low supplies, getting the vaccine earlier wasn't an option for me. Now it is, but I probably wouldn't have thought about it if I hadn't heard, again on public radio, public health officials encouraging people to get the now-widely-available vaccine.

I booked an online appointment at the student health center, where I was told I could get either the standard injection or the nasal spray. Not having a particular fear of needles (though I do if they contain a tetanus booster), I was happy to leave the spray for those who do. However, I was assured that there was plenty of each and that I was free to choose either. Figuring it was a no-brainer, I chose the nasal spray and was directed to a friendly nurse who had me blow my nose before she stuck a little wand up each nostril and dispensed a puff of vaccine. I got to remain fully dressed, sustained no puncture wound, and won't have any bruising.

What blows my mind, though, is that at least half of the people around me seemed to be opting for the injected vaccine! I think these nasal vaccines are the future; I'll take that option any time.

Anyway. This is National Influenza Vaccination Week, and I think it makes sense to be vaccinated, whether you opt to be poked or to inhale. The most intelligent and trustworthy sources I know are encouraging it, after all--and who wants to get sick, anyway?

Home, Cold Home

So, I'm back in Mpls. My flight in yesterday ended up being delayed an hour at the gate and then another 40 minutes on the runway, but I did make it. Today I managed to get my Christmas tree taken down, buy groceries, go to the chiropractor, get my hair cut, and cook a nice dinner, but the house is still a disaster. I guess I'll take tomorrow off, too.

I went to the chiropractor because my toe is still hurting. I haven't run since Vegas, and the toe still hurts. It has also taken to popping. Plus, I love my chiropractor's office. I'd forgotten how much until I was there this afternoon, the EMS, heat blanket, and massage finally calming the twitching I'd been doing all morning.

I was sheepish about my foot still hurting, but my chiropractor was reassuring and suggested we take an X-ray to see what we might find. As it turned out, the problem was readily visible, right there on the screen. Four of my toe joints are lovely and smooth, and the fifth, my first metatarsal head, has a little branch coming off it toward my second toe--a piece of bone that isn't supposed to be there. What has apparently probably happened is that the tendon has pulled little bits of the bone away, like a stress fracture, and started to heal over. Ugh.

So, they did a little bit of underwater ultrasound, some cool laser, some Graston stripping (a new experience for me), and taped me up. I'm going back in on Friday morning for some more work. Dr. Steve was very encouraging that since the toe business seems to be chronic, and not acute, I should be able to go back to running soon.

I hope so, because I'm already wondering about making it through this winter with my mental health firmly in place.

Cold

I've had a cold since Thursday, and it's sort of the pits. I think I'm starting to get over it, but I think the thing that's currently most frustrating (though it is in close competition with my very sore nose, sneezing fits, and intermittent headache) is eating.

I don't feel much like doing it, for one thing: on Friday, I started feeling shaky and lightheaded and thought I was getting a fever, only to realize that as I hadn't eaten in seven hours, I was probably just hungry. Also, because I can't smell, it's not as much fun when I do eat. AND it takes me about twice as long, because I can't breathe through my nose while I'm doing it. Sigh.

Here is something happier, found on the blog of a friend of a friend:

Sleep

This morning I had that super-heavy, glued-to-the-mattress feeling, even though I'd been sleeping for nine hours (I know! the luxury! It's, like, double what I averaged my first year in Mpls). It took a ridiculous amount of time to get out of bed.

And then tonight, I couldn't even make it through the movie David and I started with dinner (Bubba Ho-Tep, which I first [and last] saw at the awesome Ross theater in Lincoln), and passed out on the couch at maybe 7:30. I had vivid dreams, and now, predictably, am not very sleepy. Sigh.

I didn't run today, and I only ran two miles yesterday. I've also been averaging a lot of sleep recently.

I don't know whether to hope that I'm just lazy or that there's something actually wrong with me.

Granted, I have run a half marathon and a whole marathon in the past six weeks. It is November, and the short days always get me down. I'm stressed about my dissertation and the (complete lack of a) job market. And I am trying to avoid all the flu going around.

So hopefully it's nothing that a bit more sleep can't fix.

Toothiness

This morning I went to the dentist. The graduate student health insurance plan is actually pretty awesome, and includes two cleaning/check-ups per year. I haven't always been great about going; among other things, there's generally a daunting six- to eight-week lag before you can get in for an appointment. I somehow lucked out this time around, however; when I called in response to my postcard reminder, they offered an appointment date the very next week.

The last time I'd been in, in May, the very friendly, if not terribly thorough, hygienist told me I had "the cleanest mouth I've seen all day!" And today, I had the shortest dental exam I've ever had: the dentist did ask me if I'd been having any problems, but then looked in my mouth for all of maybe 30 seconds.

When I remarked on it to the hygienist, she said, "That's because everything looks so good in there!" Well, mostly good. There is some flattening, apparently, that suggests a bit of grinding (stress!), and which may account for some increased sensitivity recently. The hygienist gave me a sample tube of Sensodyne, and also encouraged me to use a fluoride rinse.

I said I didn't realize that fluoride was still beneficial for adults, but that I did remember my mom putting fluoride drops in our breakfast juice during the time we lived in Louisiana when I was a kid. The hygienist was impressed. She said, "You have a good mom!" Because I love telling people this, I added, "She even flossed our teeth for us when we were kids." (It's completely true. I can still remember lying on my back on her big bed while she flossed my baby teeth. When we were old enough to do our own, she used to say, "You only have to floss the teeth you want to keep.")

The hygienist was even more impressed. She said, "You should thank her! She's the reason you have such nice teeth now!" I said, "I do!" although, as she had her fingers in my mouth, it came out more like "Awww roo!"

However, it really can't be said too often: thanks again, Mom!

Oh, and there's one more place where credit is due: my toothbrush, pictured here (thanks to David, who was sure a picture must be taken of me next to the drying string lamp, even though I was in the middle of brushing my teeth). The hygienist asked me if I use an electric toothbrush, but as you can see, I don't. Several years ago, a friend told me about the Oral-B Cross Action toothbrush. She told me that she didn't floss, but that her dentist always thought she did since she'd been using this toothbrush.

With that endorsement, I bought one, and have never looked back. They've become increasingly fancy over the years (gum stimulators! oh my!), and I continue to love them. They're a bit more expensive than their flat-bristled cousins, but absolutely worth it: I can't imagine going back.

Here's to clean mouths!

Happenin's

Or, Things I've Been Doing to Avoid Writing My Dissertation

Internets, I've been remiss, about many things, but I apologize to you, in any case, for my lack of blogging. Exciting (or at least vaguely interesting) things have been happening here--I just haven't been posting about them! So, to hit a few highlights...

I ran that marathon. The next morning, I had my first chiropractic appointment--that expo deal--and totally got the royal treatment (electrical muscle stimulation with heat, massage, ultrasound, cool lasers, and a [cracking!] adjustment). I left feeling fantastic, and although I was feeling pretty sore and awful by the end of the day, I think it really improved my recovery time. By Thursday of that week, I wasn't sore at all. He also lasered and re-taped my blisters, and even though they had been huge, they didn't bother me at all and had completely healed within about 10 days. More of David's pictures are here, if you're interested.

I took my turn presenting at the weekly Fellows' Luncheon. Approximately one third of the group was out with the flu or traveling or whatever, so it was a small crowd but went pretty well. I'm glad it's over.

Abraham came to town! The rockstars arrived Saturday night, in time to join us for a smashing dinner party, and then got my patented Nerd Tour of Mpls (including the theater, library, and post office) Sunday before playing a small show that evening in my apartment. Thanks to various factors conspiring against us, the turnout was very small, but we had a fantastic time and made merry until way too late for a school night. The rockstars left the next morning (which was snowy: thanks, Mpls) to continue their tour eastward; check out their upcoming appearances at their website. Here are some of David's pictures; be sure to view the full album for a few videos:


I sort of started running again, and registered for another half marathon. David took this picture because he thought it was funny that I looked like I was flipping him off. The subsequent run, my first since the marathon, was blessed with Wintry Mix and an awesome attack of cold-induced hives. Oh, yes. But yesterday, I ran a sunny six around the lakes with the friend I'm running the half with, and it was balmy--nearly 50°! The race is on Halloween, so I'm thinking about running in costume. The current front-runner is 80s cheerleader.

I made a lampshade. I don't actually remember why I was first inspired to do this, although this beautiful lamp in the window of the Uptown DWR didn't help. I think I'll write a little tutorial at some point, because we took a bunch of pictures, but for the moment here it is on David's head.

We got out. Last night, David and I saw Rodrigo y Gabriela at the Pantages Theater. It was the most amazing guitar playing I've ever seen live, and I have seen some impressive playing. Really an amazing show; if you ever have the opportunity to see them, DO! Tonight we saw The Importance of Being Earnest: Bros Before Hos Remix at the Bryant Lake Bowl Theater. Friday I took David to the French Meadow for the first time, and Saturday morning we discovered Isles Bun & Coffee together (despite passing the out-the-door line multiple times on my weekend lakes runs, I had never actually been in!). It's nice to live in the city.

Bullets

• One of the Popcan's (many) names was the Sapphire Bullet of Pure Love
• Tonight I started my taxes, but couldn't finish them because I was missing a tuition form
• I lost one of my toenails
• I painted the other nine, and the spot where the tenth used to be
• I've been sick all week, but I'm feeling better (not dead yet!)
• My voice isn't totally back yet, but I'm only missing every fifth syllable or so now, instead of every second or third
• I've been drinking a lot of tea and ginger/lemon/honey goodness
  
• It has been raining here
• I feel like I should be happier about that, because at least it's warm
  
• I don't, though, because (a) it's gray and ugly and (b) it's still going to be winter for another two months, at least
• I am, however, happy about this upcoming weekend!
• I love my new red laptop
• I used it to edit the paper I'm workshopping tomorrow, but mostly I'm liking catching up on TV on the Internet
• Oh, and video chat with the built-in webcam! Who knew?
• I forgot to rip a copy of my brother's new CD before giving my last copy away, but he sent me one a few days ago
• It's brilliant, the kind of album you want to listen to over and over again (which I've been doing)
• Someday I'll succeed in persuading them to set up a website that actually sells said album (each of which is a beautiful, individual piece of art)
• Until then, you can mail $8 to an address I'll give you if you're interested
• Seriously, though, I'll work on them on the website. Setting it up myself is far more tempting than, say, writing a dissertation

On Dieting and Religion

Okay, people. All I've got for today is a metaphor, and as it only struck me yesterday at the end of my run, and may have been runner's brain induced, it might be a little half-baked.

So apparently all diets--the ones that only let you eat only fruits and veggies; the ones that let you eat as much animal fat as you want, but ne'er a banana; the ones involving only cookies, etc.--work. No matter how crazy a diet might be, if you follow it, you lose weight (at least temporarily). The theory is that being on a diet makes the dieter think about what he or she is eating, and the dieting mindset and adherence to the rules, whatever they may be, actually result in weight loss. (Even if you're ordering your latte with half and half because you're on Atkins.)

It struck me yesterday that the religions of the world have a similar thing going. Following the tenets of any of them would, ideally, make one a better person--kinder, more generous, more thoughtful, less selfish. Instructions on lifestyle, it seems, don't really vary all that much. Some groups prohibit dancing or alcohol; other groups include those things in their rituals. Most of them seem to advise temperance and worship of an entity higher than oneself. None of them has as a fundamental tenet "Go out and kill infidels," or "Deny rights to your neighbors." Right? The focus is on one's relationship with God and others.

But instead of letting others choose which diets they prefer--no matter how crazy they sound--imagine if certain dieters felt compelled to impose their own diets on others, even violently!

Do I think it's completely insane to replace the milk in your latte with half and half because you're trying to lose weight? Yes. I do. That's crazy. I worry for you and your arteries. But scientists tell me you will actually lose weight on the Atkins diet. Given my genes and general level of Crazy, I will never have to try this, but I'm not going to stop you, because, after all, it's your body. I'm a vegetarian, and I'll extol the virtues of that diet to anyone who will listen, but I also won't place myself between you and your cheeseburger.

Funny, though, how when it comes to religion, leaving each to his own is somehow completely unacceptable. "That's what happens when eternal salvation is on the line," a friend responded recently. Thus, adherents to one diet get to mandate, say, the removal of all salads, or the institution of melted cheddar on everything. They may even instigate wars, not just against those who don't diet, but against fellow dieters who are simply on another plan.

And. Well. That's wrong. Right?

Re-shot

Today I got my second-ever flu shot, and this time, I helped set a Guinness World Record!

I didn't even have to trek over to the East Bank this year; they'd set up one station conveniently in the building next door.

My arm is a little sore, but I went for a run afterward and I think that helped. I'd actually forgotten about the shot entirely until I got home after my six miles... and then I remembered. However, it's nothing compared to the epic tetanus booster of a few years ago, thankfully. I'm glad those only come around once a decade.

Marathon!

Marathon Saturday was impeccable: bright blue, cloudless skies; windless; and a high of 73°.

Marathon Sunday--the actual day of the race--was another story. I woke up to rain dimpling puddles on the street, and although the forecast predicted storms before 8 a.m. and returning later in the afternoon, the heavy gray skies were not encouraging. In the car on the way to the starting line, my friend insisted that it would clear off and be sunny. "I don't know," I said. "I have pretty bad luck." "But I," she responded, "have very good luck!" Then she pointed at her boyfriend driving us, at 7:15 on a Sunday morning, as though that settled it.

As it turned out, however, it was my luck that unfortunately triumphed. At mile three, it began to rain. By mile five, it was coming down in earnest, and somewhere between miles six and seven, the heavens opened and we were completely drenched. It was quite a sight to see the spectators in their hats, coats, and umbrellas, some of them simply shaking their heads in disbelief as we splashed by. It rained hard for another several miles, handily flooding the course, before finally tapering off at around mile 14. (Around mile 21, when we'd finally mostly dried out, we did get another sprinkling that caused me to curse the skies, but it was over fairly quickly.)

Also, it was cold. It was cold enough to see our breath; ahead of us, the column of runners was wreathed in steam. My shoes and socks were soaked, but I still tried to skirt puddles because that water was so much colder than the water already trapped against my skin. When I tried to open my package of Sport Beans, I discovered that my clammy fingers were too numb to be effective, and had to tear it open with my teeth. My running partner, who had discarded her long-sleeved tee early in the race when she started to warm up (and before it started raining), actually snagged from the side of a the trail a discarded and damp sweatshirt that she threw on for warmth.

The coldness issue undoubtedly contributed to our troubles. We stopped twice at aid stations (miles 20 and 23) so that E could be warmed up, and even so she got quite nauseated and had to do a lot of walking from about mile 15 on, and especially after mile 20.

I held up remarkably, for as under-trained as I was, but I was happy to run slowly, take walking breaks, and chat with the volunteers who swaddled her in plastic bags, beach towels, and reflective blankets. It meant that I had the energy to cavort and jump into the air when I saw our friends gathered at mile 19,* to dance when we heard the "Nooma Nooma Song" at mile 20, and to cheer on lethargic spectators further down the line. And it also meant that today, although my quads, calves, abs, and obliques are definitely sore, I feel actually pretty excellent.

I made the mistake at San Diego, two years ago, of pushing Bryant too hard during the race. I had trained hard for that one, and he hadn't. I stayed with him, but I let him see how disappointed and frustrated I was not to finish at the pace I could have. It's a failure I still regret, and I didn't want to make that mistake again.

So. We got soaked; we dried out; we ran slowly; we finished happy! I'm still going to wait a few days to let the muscle soreness calm down and try a short run, but at the moment I'm optimistic about running Phoenix in January. If I do some speed training, maybe--maybe--I can even do that one in under four! We'll see.

One more story. Just before we hit the aid station at mile 23, we were walking through a barricaded-off intersection when a white pick-up came roaring up, the driver leaning on his horn. He rolled down his window and started shouting at the officer standing there that he needed to be let through. The officer and course marshals pleasantly informed him that the road was closed and that he wouldn't be able to get through. He shouted, "Do I have to come out there and move it myself?" to which they responded, "Not if you don't want to spend the night in jail!" He countered, "I'm not spending the night in jail!" They shrugged, and he shouted, "Now are you going to move it for me or do I need to move it myself?" Jumping out of the truck, he stepped to the wooden barricade and moved it aside, still shouting, and the officer leaned into his shoulder mic to call for backup. It looked like the man was going to get back into his truck or walk away, but the officer held out an arm to keep him against the truck, as another three uniformed figures came tearing across the street. I think the driver must have started to run away or resist at that point, because in the next instant, he was under a pile of bodies, apparently still struggling. We had been walking down the course as this all happened, and so getting farther from the action, but it was still quite the adventure! I haven't been able to find any news reports on it, but I assume he did get his trip to jail. I also assume that he was on drugs.

As to whether or not he was any crazier than the runners blocking his way... I couldn't say.

More pictures here:



*Seeing those four friends cheering for us at mile 19 was seriously one of the highlights of my entire life. I don't think I'd ever seen my name on a sign before at a sporting event, and it was incredible--I must have spent the next two miles talking about it, and I know I'll remember it forever. It was more than just feeling like a celebrity, although there was that; it was just a gesture of immense affection. It doesn't make much sense if you haven't been there yourself, but if you do ever have the chance to cheer for a friend at an event like this, I encourage you to make a sign and do it--the return on effort is enormous for the athlete!