First off, I missed BL last night because I went out and stuffed myself silly with Mexican food with my family. Who got kicked off?
Also if you do nothing at all for the next day, do this : SIGN UP FOR NETFLIX.
Holy 21st century, I have arrived.
Not only have we had a movie or series to watch everyday for the last two weeks, you barely have to do anything expect for click your mouse to get it.
And most of the thie movies you can stream right through your computer!
I mean - it's like when we first got DVR - I'm watching shit I would have never dreamed of before!
Genius.
And dropping the disk off at the mailbox so we can get another ASAP is great incentive to get Cheese out of the house for four minutes every other day.
So we all win.
Okay, so now for the nitty gritty.
The BAD:
So right before I headed out to go to my 6-month follow-up kidney appointment this morning(which is coming at a good time, as I haven’t been feeling so hot for the last two months, and I'm not preggers but something certainly is taking over my body, it’s a good time to check things out, you know?), I was going through my Facebook pictures and tagging some photos I have had in my photo app.
And you know what I discovered?
My Kidney Brother de-friended me.
Ain’t that some shit?
Lemme tell ya what I think happened.
See, Cheese invited my whole family to the surprise engagement two months ago. Kidney Brother never showed.
He was then invited to the Marathon CarboLoad Dinner/Impromptu Engagement Party the following night. He never showed.
Finally, he was invited to a pizza night when my other brother came to town about a week later.
No show again.
Now, mind you, this is the same brother who, before getting my kidney, had a really sketchy history with my family, was a pretty unhappy, angry, distant and psychologically impaired person. But yet he always talked about wanting to get closer to my family.
So he gets my organ, then doesn’t bother to show up for any family event since.
And he has still never met Cheese, the man I am going to marry.
So after the no-shows in October, I sent him an email and was basically like, “Whatever, I’m pissed.” He sent an email back, blamed my mom for everything – something about missed text messages or voicemail or something – just like he always does.
Everything is always someone else’s fault - the whole world is conspiring against him. What a fucking surprise.
And then at some point, that asshole de-friended me.
Because I called him out on being a meanie.
I don’t know what I ever expected would change, and I am a little pissed at myself that this even bothers me. I mean, I sort of always knew he would put up this “Look at me, I’m a new man with a new perspective” face on for a while, but in the absence of any real therapy or internal self-improvement, of course nothing was going to change in the heart of his personality.
Whatever. Fuck him.
Moving on to The Good:
On the upshot, I found out that I got taken off the waiting list for the Hustle Up the Hancock, and am now going to do the full climb!
That’s 94 floors, bitches!
Oh glorious Hustle!
And Need Some More Good?
Comm recently posted about it being the Chritmas season, and giving more of ourselves. Then I read on Mommymeepa's blog that she is taking it step further and made a list of things she intends to do every day for someone else.
And since I love a good challenge, I am going to challenge myself to do something outside of myelf each day, starting with this month, and then hopefully beyond this month.
'Cause let's be honest, I really can get pretty consumed with my own BS sometimes.
So check out their blogs and see what they are doing.
I'll let you know what I decide for myself.
Showing posts with label kidney. Show all posts
Showing posts with label kidney. Show all posts
Wednesday, December 3, 2008
Friday, November 14, 2008
The Ramblings Continue
An Open Letter to a Friend:
Hey Jenny Aniston –
Let it go.
No, seriously.
Brad left, like, 20 Botox sessions ago.
Two years ago would have been a good time to stop talking about it.
Sour grapes makes for bad Whine.
I don't care how much Oprah prods or what movie you need to promote - have some self respect and lock it up.
Besides, good old Brad's saddled with a broad who's bat-shit crazy and six kids – who lost that bet, yeah?
So snap it up, and move on.
Love,
Me
Injustice and Principle
Why are all the things I hate good for me?
1. Swimming
2. Cauliflower
3. Pap smears
Right now, I am mostly concerned with #1. I think we are all aware of my disdain for that particular discipline. But lately, I am coming to terms with the fact that, no matter how much I bike or run, it will never give me the overall tone that swimming does.
And though I am working out almost every day of the week at this point, I continue to gain weight and loss muscle mass. My diet has even improved, though it was never all that bad to begin with. I truly do not understand it. It is BEYOND frustrating at this point, so much so that I am convinced I need to see doctor because something in me in malfunctioning. My final straw was the newly formed dimple at the top of my back left thigh. Like, not on my ass (though they exist there too) but on the thigh part.
When I saw it, it was all I could do to bite back the tears. Call me shallow – whatever – but I truly believe that if I am going to break a sweat working out everyday, I DESERVE not to have dimpled thighs.
And just to beat this pity party to death, I was in the 7-Eleven getting coffee this morning before my appointment, and all these people were buying up crap foods that I would NEVER think about eating – like frosted honey buns – and I thought, “Now how can you eat that stuff and not gain weight, but simply standing two feet from it just added another chin and three dimples to my ass?”
I wanted to choke some innocent people out…and all for a pastry.
Good thing that appointment I was heading to was therapy….
All Night Long
Recently, I have struggled with a nagging bout of insomnia. It’s like I lay my head down at the appropriate hour, but three hours later, there I am tossing and turning.
Like right now.
Its 2am.
The worst part is that I will eventually feel sleepy at 3am, which is way too late to wake up at a respectable time, but also not late enough to just stay awake and get up for the morning swim at 5.
I have toyed with the idea of raiding my medicine cabinet and tossing back a few painkillers left over from the kidney surgery, but I can’t bring myself to take them.
So awake it is.
Hey Jenny Aniston –
Let it go.
No, seriously.
Brad left, like, 20 Botox sessions ago.
Two years ago would have been a good time to stop talking about it.
Sour grapes makes for bad Whine.
I don't care how much Oprah prods or what movie you need to promote - have some self respect and lock it up.
Besides, good old Brad's saddled with a broad who's bat-shit crazy and six kids – who lost that bet, yeah?
So snap it up, and move on.
Love,
Me
Injustice and Principle
Why are all the things I hate good for me?
1. Swimming
2. Cauliflower
3. Pap smears
Right now, I am mostly concerned with #1. I think we are all aware of my disdain for that particular discipline. But lately, I am coming to terms with the fact that, no matter how much I bike or run, it will never give me the overall tone that swimming does.
And though I am working out almost every day of the week at this point, I continue to gain weight and loss muscle mass. My diet has even improved, though it was never all that bad to begin with. I truly do not understand it. It is BEYOND frustrating at this point, so much so that I am convinced I need to see doctor because something in me in malfunctioning. My final straw was the newly formed dimple at the top of my back left thigh. Like, not on my ass (though they exist there too) but on the thigh part.
When I saw it, it was all I could do to bite back the tears. Call me shallow – whatever – but I truly believe that if I am going to break a sweat working out everyday, I DESERVE not to have dimpled thighs.
And just to beat this pity party to death, I was in the 7-Eleven getting coffee this morning before my appointment, and all these people were buying up crap foods that I would NEVER think about eating – like frosted honey buns – and I thought, “Now how can you eat that stuff and not gain weight, but simply standing two feet from it just added another chin and three dimples to my ass?”
I wanted to choke some innocent people out…and all for a pastry.
Good thing that appointment I was heading to was therapy….
All Night Long
Recently, I have struggled with a nagging bout of insomnia. It’s like I lay my head down at the appropriate hour, but three hours later, there I am tossing and turning.
Like right now.
Its 2am.
The worst part is that I will eventually feel sleepy at 3am, which is way too late to wake up at a respectable time, but also not late enough to just stay awake and get up for the morning swim at 5.
I have toyed with the idea of raiding my medicine cabinet and tossing back a few painkillers left over from the kidney surgery, but I can’t bring myself to take them.
So awake it is.
Tuesday, August 19, 2008
TRI for Life
Back in March, I was in Tennessee for my little brother’s wedding. At that time, I had already completed all my testing for the kidney donation. But aside from having made the decision to donate my kidney, I don’t know how much I talked about it then, or really even thought about it – my biggest issues was how to get my six hour brick done that Sunday after flying home, as Ironman loomed on the horizon.
Ha – it was Ironman all the time, at that point.
Back then, it was like, “Okay get through the race, then donate the kidney. A before B.”
It really hasn’t been until recently that I have these moments when I think, “Holy crap – I did that.” Like when I see a tv show about people donating organs. And then I get all teary and emotional and boogery and slobbery and – well, nevermind.
Lemme get back to my story.
The day I arrived in Tennessee, my brother-in-law Nat handed me an article in the USA Today – it was about the three Coleman brothers who had lost their fourth brother, Chase. Chase was an avid cyclist and 20 years old when he was killed after being struck by a car while riding. Following his death, his organs were donated to various individuals. One individual received his heart – this man continues to live and prosper today.
I remember reading the story and having tears in my eyes for the loss these brothers sustained – if I ever lost one of my siblings, it might just be what kills me – I simply could not imagine it.
And even though I was going through my own organ donation issues at the time, I had kept the significance of my own donation at arm’s length – it was simply too much for me to emotionally deal with as I stared down Ironman. So I didn’t fully wrap my mind around the piece of the story where Chase’s brothers have reached out to the organ recipients, and have formed a triathlon club called TRI for Life, in memory of their brother and in support of organ donation. They have made it their mission to compete in all 50 states through triathlon, and raise public consciousness for organ donation while doing it.
I kept the article tucked in my bag, though, and reread it at the airport while waiting for my flight home.
Fast forward to my own donation – while in the hospital, a man commented on my blog – he mentioned that he had an experience with organ donation, and encouraged me to check out his site TRI for Life. His name: Lon Coleman.
Lon is one of the three surviving brothers (from that article) who now races to raise awareness of organ donation. While laying in my bed shortly after my own donation surgery, feeling miserable and sorry for myself, Lon hit me up on Instant Messenger. We chatted for some time, and he told me about all the things that are happening for his team.
It’s amazing all the things these brothers are involved in, including the US Transplant Game this summer.
He mentioned that he would be in Chicago for the Chicago Accenture Tri this weekend, and we talked about maybe crossing paths while he is town. Though I consider myself to be the unofficial ambassador of Chicago (we all know how I do love to be the tour guide!), I unfortunately will be in Rockford all day when they come in on Friday. But hopefully I will get a chance to have dinner with the team the Saturday before the race.
So check out their site and their story if you can. And if you are near or at the race here on Sunday, cheer them on – they are out there racing for second chances at life.
And if that's not something to scream about, I don't know what is.
Ha – it was Ironman all the time, at that point.
Back then, it was like, “Okay get through the race, then donate the kidney. A before B.”
It really hasn’t been until recently that I have these moments when I think, “Holy crap – I did that.” Like when I see a tv show about people donating organs. And then I get all teary and emotional and boogery and slobbery and – well, nevermind.
Lemme get back to my story.
The day I arrived in Tennessee, my brother-in-law Nat handed me an article in the USA Today – it was about the three Coleman brothers who had lost their fourth brother, Chase. Chase was an avid cyclist and 20 years old when he was killed after being struck by a car while riding. Following his death, his organs were donated to various individuals. One individual received his heart – this man continues to live and prosper today.
I remember reading the story and having tears in my eyes for the loss these brothers sustained – if I ever lost one of my siblings, it might just be what kills me – I simply could not imagine it.
And even though I was going through my own organ donation issues at the time, I had kept the significance of my own donation at arm’s length – it was simply too much for me to emotionally deal with as I stared down Ironman. So I didn’t fully wrap my mind around the piece of the story where Chase’s brothers have reached out to the organ recipients, and have formed a triathlon club called TRI for Life, in memory of their brother and in support of organ donation. They have made it their mission to compete in all 50 states through triathlon, and raise public consciousness for organ donation while doing it.
I kept the article tucked in my bag, though, and reread it at the airport while waiting for my flight home.
Fast forward to my own donation – while in the hospital, a man commented on my blog – he mentioned that he had an experience with organ donation, and encouraged me to check out his site TRI for Life. His name: Lon Coleman.
Lon is one of the three surviving brothers (from that article) who now races to raise awareness of organ donation. While laying in my bed shortly after my own donation surgery, feeling miserable and sorry for myself, Lon hit me up on Instant Messenger. We chatted for some time, and he told me about all the things that are happening for his team.
It’s amazing all the things these brothers are involved in, including the US Transplant Game this summer.
He mentioned that he would be in Chicago for the Chicago Accenture Tri this weekend, and we talked about maybe crossing paths while he is town. Though I consider myself to be the unofficial ambassador of Chicago (we all know how I do love to be the tour guide!), I unfortunately will be in Rockford all day when they come in on Friday. But hopefully I will get a chance to have dinner with the team the Saturday before the race.
So check out their site and their story if you can. And if you are near or at the race here on Sunday, cheer them on – they are out there racing for second chances at life.
And if that's not something to scream about, I don't know what is.
Wednesday, July 16, 2008
Could I Be Anymore Random?
Quote That Made Me Pause
“It’s great to love people this much.” – Tony Snow, emotional and holding back tears while talking about his family during his cancer treatments.
Yeah, Tony, it is. I love that feeling.
And when I feel it, I cry too.
In a good way.
And on the Other End of the Spectrum
You know what’s kind of annoying?
When people say, “Hey, remind me later that I have to……” or “Don’t let me forget that I need to….”
Yeah, because YOUR list of tasks is what I keep at the forefront of my mind on a daily basis. For crying out loud, I consider myself lucky if I can remember there are two C’s in my last name on any given day. My daily treat is when I wake up and actually know what day it is upon opening my eyes (which is really only important on street cleaning day when I need to remember to move my car – again, remembering even this is something I can barely manage, given the bottomless hole of parking tickets).
And inevitably, it’s always women making these demands in grocery/Target stores while standing in checkouts lines (or at least this is where I always overhear this), as if the conveyor belt unconsciously triggers them to recite their To Do lists. And the person chosen to “remember” or “remind” is usually a kid or friend staring blankly into thin air, nodding dumbly and mumbling, “Uh huh.” I am going to say that the odds of Person B remembering anything out of the mouth of Person A is slim to none.
So why even ask?
Sigh.
People are ridiculous.
So, Yeahhhhh…I’m Doing It
I have offhandedly mentioned a few times that I am doing the Spirit of Racine Half Ironman this weekend. This will be my third half distance – the first two were in 2006, before the back injury. In fact, I hadn't raced since Steelhead 2006 before going into IM AZ 08.
I haven’t talked much about it mostly because I don’t feel there is much to say – I don’t feel totally prepared, struggled with motivation here and there, and haven’t really felt quite my badass self since IM. Every discipline has taken tons of physical effort, which is surprising, given my fitness level as recent as April. Runs are crapshoots, swims have been sporadic, and rides are mediocre. I just feel, like.....eh.
So I am basically going into it as a long training day. I have no time expectations, and am pretty much going to show up and see what the day brings. I did this for Ironman, and it seemed to work out well for me.
But for shits and giggles, I decided to pull up my 2006 Steelhead times, just to see. Here is what I found:
6:32 – Final time
41:39 - Swim
3:05 - Bike
2:33 – Run
(transitions were in the 5:00 range - good lord)
I remember Steelhead vividly – I went into it really sick, just about quit at mile 1 on the run, and literally gutted it out for the next 12 miles. Of all the races – tri or running – I have done, this might have been the worst.
So I figure if I get somewhere around these times, then great. If not – oh well.
After all – it’s just a race. And given that my brother is really sick and back in the hospital to have a biopsy on his (my?) kidney, I consider myself fortunate just to be out there, spending my summer Sunday doing what I love.
So to all those racing this weekend - Racine, Ironman LP, and others - best of luck and happy racing!
“It’s great to love people this much.” – Tony Snow, emotional and holding back tears while talking about his family during his cancer treatments.
Yeah, Tony, it is. I love that feeling.
And when I feel it, I cry too.
In a good way.
And on the Other End of the Spectrum
You know what’s kind of annoying?
When people say, “Hey, remind me later that I have to……” or “Don’t let me forget that I need to….”
Yeah, because YOUR list of tasks is what I keep at the forefront of my mind on a daily basis. For crying out loud, I consider myself lucky if I can remember there are two C’s in my last name on any given day. My daily treat is when I wake up and actually know what day it is upon opening my eyes (which is really only important on street cleaning day when I need to remember to move my car – again, remembering even this is something I can barely manage, given the bottomless hole of parking tickets).
And inevitably, it’s always women making these demands in grocery/Target stores while standing in checkouts lines (or at least this is where I always overhear this), as if the conveyor belt unconsciously triggers them to recite their To Do lists. And the person chosen to “remember” or “remind” is usually a kid or friend staring blankly into thin air, nodding dumbly and mumbling, “Uh huh.” I am going to say that the odds of Person B remembering anything out of the mouth of Person A is slim to none.
So why even ask?
Sigh.
People are ridiculous.
So, Yeahhhhh…I’m Doing It
I have offhandedly mentioned a few times that I am doing the Spirit of Racine Half Ironman this weekend. This will be my third half distance – the first two were in 2006, before the back injury. In fact, I hadn't raced since Steelhead 2006 before going into IM AZ 08.
I haven’t talked much about it mostly because I don’t feel there is much to say – I don’t feel totally prepared, struggled with motivation here and there, and haven’t really felt quite my badass self since IM. Every discipline has taken tons of physical effort, which is surprising, given my fitness level as recent as April. Runs are crapshoots, swims have been sporadic, and rides are mediocre. I just feel, like.....eh.
So I am basically going into it as a long training day. I have no time expectations, and am pretty much going to show up and see what the day brings. I did this for Ironman, and it seemed to work out well for me.
But for shits and giggles, I decided to pull up my 2006 Steelhead times, just to see. Here is what I found:
6:32 – Final time
41:39 - Swim
3:05 - Bike
2:33 – Run
(transitions were in the 5:00 range - good lord)
I remember Steelhead vividly – I went into it really sick, just about quit at mile 1 on the run, and literally gutted it out for the next 12 miles. Of all the races – tri or running – I have done, this might have been the worst.
So I figure if I get somewhere around these times, then great. If not – oh well.
After all – it’s just a race. And given that my brother is really sick and back in the hospital to have a biopsy on his (my?) kidney, I consider myself fortunate just to be out there, spending my summer Sunday doing what I love.
So to all those racing this weekend - Racine, Ironman LP, and others - best of luck and happy racing!
Tuesday, July 8, 2008
Has It Already Been A Whole Year?!?!?
I guess it has, which means only one thing - it's my birthday.
Well, it's actually tomorrow (or today, depending on when you read this - July 9th)
It seems like the past year had seen so many different events in my life. When I looked back at all the pictures, I could hardly believe all that has taken place. So I am going to get a little nostalgic and recap the year with pictures - likely most most you have already seen. Tomorrow I will post actual pictures from the b-day celebration. And since it's my blog and my birthday, most of the pictures are of me. How awesomely narcissistic of me.
And though there are certain things for which I cannot find the exact pictures (Milwaukee, Miami, Nolan's wedding), I did my best to recap it all.
Almost exactly a month after my last birthday, I joined my family to watch Devin get married in Rhode Island.
And I didn't just watch - I helped. I actually married them.
And then to Tennesse this past March, to watch my brother Nolan get married.
Of course, this would be one of those events for which I can't seem to find any pictures.
But with his wedding, I was left as the last Girl standing. Yup, all those sorry kids went and got themselves hitched. Suckers.
But, right after Devin's wedding, I got Cheese'ed.
Oklahoma, June 08
Ironman, April 08
Take a guess.
First date, August 07.
About two weeks later, Madison IM, September 07.
Same visit, September 07
And lest we not forget Black Tie Bingo!
Well, it's actually tomorrow (or today, depending on when you read this - July 9th)
It seems like the past year had seen so many different events in my life. When I looked back at all the pictures, I could hardly believe all that has taken place. So I am going to get a little nostalgic and recap the year with pictures - likely most most you have already seen. Tomorrow I will post actual pictures from the b-day celebration. And since it's my blog and my birthday, most of the pictures are of me. How awesomely narcissistic of me.
And though there are certain things for which I cannot find the exact pictures (Milwaukee, Miami, Nolan's wedding), I did my best to recap it all.
Almost exactly a month after my last birthday, I joined my family to watch Devin get married in Rhode Island.
And I didn't just watch - I helped. I actually married them.
And then to Tennesse this past March, to watch my brother Nolan get married.
Of course, this would be one of those events for which I can't seem to find any pictures.
But with his wedding, I was left as the last Girl standing. Yup, all those sorry kids went and got themselves hitched. Suckers.
But, right after Devin's wedding, I got Cheese'ed.
Oklahoma, June 08
Ironman, April 08
Take a guess.
First date, August 07.
About two weeks later, Madison IM, September 07.
Same visit, September 07
And lest we not forget Black Tie Bingo!
And then, I had the chance to meet some friends.
Ironman April 08 - Momo, Carrie and me
Ironman April 08 - Duane and me
Ironman April 08
And the running!! Boy did I run. In Chicago on Thanksgiving...
To Miami in January...
To Madison in June....
I became an Ironman. Have I mentioned that?
And then, I gave away a kidney.
Remember "Ruby Red?"
But I got back on the "horse."
And am getting ready for Racine.
Wow. Told ya it seems like a lot. And those are just the major stuff - all the day to day memories will just have to stay in my head. Even with all the ups and downs, this past year was easily the best yet. I am far healthier, mentally and physically, then I was last July 9th. The good has far outweighed the bad, and I look forward to many more of the good.
Ironman April 08 - Momo, Carrie and me
Ironman April 08 - Duane and me
Ironman April 08
And the running!! Boy did I run. In Chicago on Thanksgiving...
To Miami in January...
I have no idea what happened to these pictures.
To Madison in June....
I became an Ironman. Have I mentioned that?
And then, I gave away a kidney.
Remember "Ruby Red?"
But I got back on the "horse."
And am getting ready for Racine.
Wow. Told ya it seems like a lot. And those are just the major stuff - all the day to day memories will just have to stay in my head. Even with all the ups and downs, this past year was easily the best yet. I am far healthier, mentally and physically, then I was last July 9th. The good has far outweighed the bad, and I look forward to many more of the good.Now where the hell's the cake?
Wednesday, June 4, 2008
Stand Corrected
A couple weeks ago, I wrote about the LONGEST DAY EVER.
I was wrong.
Turns out – it’s actually today.
In hindsight, I am fairly certain my drag-ass has everything to do with complete caffeine depletion.
Although the details are hazy, I am pretty sure I had only one cup of my drug this morning. And when you throw in a hot mess of a schedule that includes driving to western suburbs for the day - lemme tell ya – my poor old body is giving me a big middle finger right now.
The fat-ass part of me is begging to go for a run, but the lazy-ass part of me is satisfied sitting here, eating pretzel nuggets and drinking Coke Zero.
Ten bucks if you can guess which ass will win.
On a more positive note – I got a clean bill of health from the doctor today – green light to run this weekend. Of course, I would have run anyways, but it’s always nice to get the go-ahead. Of course, I was evaluated by a doctor I have never seen, and he basically made me pull my shirt up and my pants down, checked it out, and sent me on my way.
Just like any given Saturday night in my 20s.
Naaaaa….just kidding…
I ALWAYS made sure I got dinner first.
It’s the ol’ “get a little, give a little.”
Oh, and turns out the Pucker is almost gone too – now, the only reason my belly sticks out and hangs over my pants is because I eat too much cake.
Oh, and apparently ice cream for breakfast can also cause this. Ice cream with JuJuBees mixed in. So I read somewhere.
And lastly, turns out our relay team lost a member, so our legs got changed. My new legs actually have me running literally right past my apartment. Crazy. And the new mileage looks like it will be 5.7, 6.9 and 8.22.
Two months ago, I would have been like, “Peshaw – 8 miles? Gimme something hard!”
I saw it today and was like, “8 miles?!?!?!?” And immediately started praying to the god I seem only to talk to when I am in such predicaments.
Like I have said before, sometimes its good to be humbled.
Off to pack.
I was wrong.
Turns out – it’s actually today.
In hindsight, I am fairly certain my drag-ass has everything to do with complete caffeine depletion.
Although the details are hazy, I am pretty sure I had only one cup of my drug this morning. And when you throw in a hot mess of a schedule that includes driving to western suburbs for the day - lemme tell ya – my poor old body is giving me a big middle finger right now.
The fat-ass part of me is begging to go for a run, but the lazy-ass part of me is satisfied sitting here, eating pretzel nuggets and drinking Coke Zero.
Ten bucks if you can guess which ass will win.
On a more positive note – I got a clean bill of health from the doctor today – green light to run this weekend. Of course, I would have run anyways, but it’s always nice to get the go-ahead. Of course, I was evaluated by a doctor I have never seen, and he basically made me pull my shirt up and my pants down, checked it out, and sent me on my way.
Just like any given Saturday night in my 20s.
Naaaaa….just kidding…
I ALWAYS made sure I got dinner first.
It’s the ol’ “get a little, give a little.”
Oh, and turns out the Pucker is almost gone too – now, the only reason my belly sticks out and hangs over my pants is because I eat too much cake.
Oh, and apparently ice cream for breakfast can also cause this. Ice cream with JuJuBees mixed in. So I read somewhere.
And lastly, turns out our relay team lost a member, so our legs got changed. My new legs actually have me running literally right past my apartment. Crazy. And the new mileage looks like it will be 5.7, 6.9 and 8.22.
Two months ago, I would have been like, “Peshaw – 8 miles? Gimme something hard!”
I saw it today and was like, “8 miles?!?!?!?” And immediately started praying to the god I seem only to talk to when I am in such predicaments.
Like I have said before, sometimes its good to be humbled.
Off to pack.
Sunday, June 1, 2008
MC 200 Relay - Almost Here!!!
So the details are starting to pour in, and my excitement is growing.
The relay is a 200-mile hike from Madison to Chicago. It’s broken down into 36 (?) legs, and I am Legs 9, 21, and 33. The respective mileage is 6, 6.5, and 6.
The craziest part is that my final leg is runs right down the bike path which I ride, so it’s really familiar territory. And I am pretty sure the Chicago legs run right past my actual house.
YAY!!!!!!
While the mileage itself is totally doable (I am running about four days a week now, and riding about the same), I am a little nervous about the speed. It looks like there are some super fast runners on the team, of which I am not one.
Prior to IM, I was able to increase my overall pace, but since the surgery, I have gotten a tad slower, and it’s been difficult for me to pick it back up.
So right now, I am at about a 10:15/mile pace. But who knows – maybe the adrenaline of the event will help me kick it up.
We leave Chicago on Thursday, and start the race Friday from Madison. The team is comprised of 3 other girls and 7 boys, none of whom I have actually ever met in person. It sounds like Friday night, we sort of camp out (or least that’s what I gathered from the recommendation of sleeping bags).
This should be interesting, as I have never camped anywhere before. Well, unless you consider sleeping in an un-air conditioned studio apartment in a Chicago July "camping."
In other training news, I did a 2-hour brick today, and felt great. Definitely feel like I am getting stronger, and now getting used to running in hotter, more humid weather. My weekday workouts are moving forward, though I have successfully managed to escape the pool this past week (although I don't know what kind of success that actually is).
So my goal before Thursday is to hit the pool at least three times. Kinda lofty for me, but hey, I signed up for Racine for the sole purpose of giving me a structure and forcing my hand at working out.
And so goes another weekend in Chicago!
The relay is a 200-mile hike from Madison to Chicago. It’s broken down into 36 (?) legs, and I am Legs 9, 21, and 33. The respective mileage is 6, 6.5, and 6.
The craziest part is that my final leg is runs right down the bike path which I ride, so it’s really familiar territory. And I am pretty sure the Chicago legs run right past my actual house.
YAY!!!!!!
While the mileage itself is totally doable (I am running about four days a week now, and riding about the same), I am a little nervous about the speed. It looks like there are some super fast runners on the team, of which I am not one.
Prior to IM, I was able to increase my overall pace, but since the surgery, I have gotten a tad slower, and it’s been difficult for me to pick it back up.
So right now, I am at about a 10:15/mile pace. But who knows – maybe the adrenaline of the event will help me kick it up.
We leave Chicago on Thursday, and start the race Friday from Madison. The team is comprised of 3 other girls and 7 boys, none of whom I have actually ever met in person. It sounds like Friday night, we sort of camp out (or least that’s what I gathered from the recommendation of sleeping bags).
This should be interesting, as I have never camped anywhere before. Well, unless you consider sleeping in an un-air conditioned studio apartment in a Chicago July "camping."
In other training news, I did a 2-hour brick today, and felt great. Definitely feel like I am getting stronger, and now getting used to running in hotter, more humid weather. My weekday workouts are moving forward, though I have successfully managed to escape the pool this past week (although I don't know what kind of success that actually is).
So my goal before Thursday is to hit the pool at least three times. Kinda lofty for me, but hey, I signed up for Racine for the sole purpose of giving me a structure and forcing my hand at working out.
And so goes another weekend in Chicago!
Sunday, May 25, 2008
Summer Structure
When I first got back on the bike, and most recently started running, I didn’t think I would be able to do anything substantial this summer – mostly because even a little bit made me so exhausted I paid for it the next day. And because I am Megan, I bitched and moaned about it for a while, then just accepted it.
But since signing up for the Madison-Chicago relay race, and re-emerging myself back into the training, I have toyed with the possibilities of racing this summer. I have revisited some websites, planned out the timelines, and hemmed and hawed about the reality of me actually being able to pull some races off.
Then, in the last two weeks, as the grapefruit has decreased, the back pain has disappeared, and my energy has slowly made its way back (though not fully yet), I decided to make racing a reality this summer. I confided in a fellow blogger about this because this would be my “A” race, one which he has also talked about doing - and he supported it. So here is what I have decided to do.
The “A” Race
I will race the Spirit of Racine ½ Iron on July 20. I mapped out my own training program (sans coach), and it gives me plenty of time to work myself back into shape.
The “Most Likely” Race
I will race the Pleasant Prairie (Wisconsin) Olympic distance race in August. Now, unlike Racine, I have not signed up for this yet.
The “Maybe” Race
Danskin Sprint (Wisconsin) in July. This is a maybe race mostly because I have done it the last few years, I like the course, and it’s always around my birthday, so it’s like my little present to myself. But this year, it lands the weekend before Spirit of Racine, so I don’t know how I feel about two race in back-to-bike weekends.
Obviously I am keeping it in the area, mostly because IM put me in a quite a hole – and it’s a short list, considering all the possibilities. The last two are so close to home that I wouldn’t need a hotel for those – I could just ride up that morning. I might also throw some running endeavors in there – like this weekend, I have two possible races planned out (one for Thursday, and one Sunday).
I feel much better with structure. I have missed the training, the expectation of what the week will bring, the reason for sitting my ass on the seat for hours on end. I missed it in a way that I can’t explain.
So this isn't about the races themselves - it's about having something to look forward to. When my eyes opened this morning, my first thought was about the workout I had planned this past week.
A nice, little Sunday morning brick.
Yeah, I did.
It was short – 90 minutes – but it was a brick.
And if I was being honest, it was actually the third that I have done in recent weeks.
And it felt great.
Good to be back in the saddle.
But since signing up for the Madison-Chicago relay race, and re-emerging myself back into the training, I have toyed with the possibilities of racing this summer. I have revisited some websites, planned out the timelines, and hemmed and hawed about the reality of me actually being able to pull some races off.
Then, in the last two weeks, as the grapefruit has decreased, the back pain has disappeared, and my energy has slowly made its way back (though not fully yet), I decided to make racing a reality this summer. I confided in a fellow blogger about this because this would be my “A” race, one which he has also talked about doing - and he supported it. So here is what I have decided to do.
The “A” Race
I will race the Spirit of Racine ½ Iron on July 20. I mapped out my own training program (sans coach), and it gives me plenty of time to work myself back into shape.
The “Most Likely” Race
I will race the Pleasant Prairie (Wisconsin) Olympic distance race in August. Now, unlike Racine, I have not signed up for this yet.
The “Maybe” Race
Danskin Sprint (Wisconsin) in July. This is a maybe race mostly because I have done it the last few years, I like the course, and it’s always around my birthday, so it’s like my little present to myself. But this year, it lands the weekend before Spirit of Racine, so I don’t know how I feel about two race in back-to-bike weekends.
Obviously I am keeping it in the area, mostly because IM put me in a quite a hole – and it’s a short list, considering all the possibilities. The last two are so close to home that I wouldn’t need a hotel for those – I could just ride up that morning. I might also throw some running endeavors in there – like this weekend, I have two possible races planned out (one for Thursday, and one Sunday).
I feel much better with structure. I have missed the training, the expectation of what the week will bring, the reason for sitting my ass on the seat for hours on end. I missed it in a way that I can’t explain.
So this isn't about the races themselves - it's about having something to look forward to. When my eyes opened this morning, my first thought was about the workout I had planned this past week.
A nice, little Sunday morning brick.
Yeah, I did.
It was short – 90 minutes – but it was a brick.
And if I was being honest, it was actually the third that I have done in recent weeks.
And it felt great.
Good to be back in the saddle.
Wednesday, May 14, 2008
Don't Call It a Comeback (exactly....)
Ever have that experience where the left hand doesn’t know what the right hand is doing?
If so, you probably work for our state’s government.
Either that, or you, too, are part of the same transplant program as I.
So today, after waiting TWO HOURS (yes, that breaks my own old personal record of 75 minutes) for an appointment, I finally met with a doctor who, oddly enough, I had never seen before.
After unleashing my hysterical tears of frustration on her (complicated by the fact that I was now one hour late for work, and 15 minutes away from a staffing I was supposed to attend), she had me hop on the table and lift my shirt. The conversation went like this:
Her: Oh, your scabs look really good!
Me: Oh yeah? (hopping off table and pulling down my pants) How about this grapefruit? Does that look good to you, too?
Her: Well, actually, yes, it does look pretty good.
Me: So when do you think it should look….GONE?
Her: Well, it should look like that, you know. It will take some time…..
Me: Well, my other doctor said it would take two weeks, and it’s been three weeks post-surgery. Her: (quizzical look on face) Two weeks? Huh. No, it should actually take up to six weeks for all that to be healed (goes on to explain why it looks as it does).
Me: SIX WEEKS?!?!?! Are you kidding me with that?
Her: Uh no.
Me: I don’t have time for that.
Her: What else do you have to do?
Me: Uh, nothing…Stuff…I don’t know.
Her: (pause).
If so, you probably work for our state’s government.
Either that, or you, too, are part of the same transplant program as I.
So today, after waiting TWO HOURS (yes, that breaks my own old personal record of 75 minutes) for an appointment, I finally met with a doctor who, oddly enough, I had never seen before.
After unleashing my hysterical tears of frustration on her (complicated by the fact that I was now one hour late for work, and 15 minutes away from a staffing I was supposed to attend), she had me hop on the table and lift my shirt. The conversation went like this:
Her: Oh, your scabs look really good!
Me: Oh yeah? (hopping off table and pulling down my pants) How about this grapefruit? Does that look good to you, too?
Her: Well, actually, yes, it does look pretty good.
Me: So when do you think it should look….GONE?
Her: Well, it should look like that, you know. It will take some time…..
Me: Well, my other doctor said it would take two weeks, and it’s been three weeks post-surgery. Her: (quizzical look on face) Two weeks? Huh. No, it should actually take up to six weeks for all that to be healed (goes on to explain why it looks as it does).
Me: SIX WEEKS?!?!?! Are you kidding me with that?
Her: Uh no.
Me: I don’t have time for that.
Her: What else do you have to do?
Me: Uh, nothing…Stuff…I don’t know.
Her: (pause).
Me: You know, I did Ironman four weeks ago.
Her: (Blank stare)
Me: (Stare back......long silent pause)
Me: So how about this running thing? The doctor told me last week that I would be ready to go.
Her (same quizzical look, now with a raised eyebrow) Uh, three weeks post-surgery? Well....like how far do you want to run?
Me: How far can I run?
Her: How far do you want to run?
Me: 20 miles, but I don’t think that’s what you’re going to tell me.
Her: Nope. No I won’t.
So we negotiated, and came up with a reasonable amount of running. She also gave me some tips on how to “juice” Ruby Red.
Including patience.
Yeah, ‘cause I am sooo good with that.
Me: So how about this running thing? The doctor told me last week that I would be ready to go.
Her (same quizzical look, now with a raised eyebrow) Uh, three weeks post-surgery? Well....like how far do you want to run?
Me: How far can I run?
Her: How far do you want to run?
Me: 20 miles, but I don’t think that’s what you’re going to tell me.
Her: Nope. No I won’t.
So we negotiated, and came up with a reasonable amount of running. She also gave me some tips on how to “juice” Ruby Red.
Including patience.
Yeah, ‘cause I am sooo good with that.
Then she tried to bond with me, and told me that she had the exact same scar and citrus issue on her stomach post-baby birth. She then says, with a sympathetic smile and nod, "And now two years later, my stomach looks almost healed."
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
My insides were screaming, "Bitch what?!?!" but my outsides were smiling knowlingly, letting her feel as if she made some connection, politely accepted my lab work papers, and got the EFF out of there and into my little car, where I proceed to INHALE a bag (grocery store size) of potato chips.
Hey - my blood pressue was a 104/64, so I felt I deserved to knock back an ocean's worth of salt after that fiasco.
I was reluctant to post a picture of this monster, but finally I was like "Whatever." I figured you have all seen some really ugly parts of me over the last two years - what's a little skin? Just so you can all see that I am not joking. If your not on a diet now, your loss of appitite will jump start it. 
Just to put this in perspective (because the picture doesn't do the best job of it), the first bump is "The Pucker" which, as noted before, is the result of a stitch under the skin. The second bump is my little friend. So, off to the far left side you can sort of see a scar where my hip bone should be, and usually is. The grapefruit doesn't just stick out, but it has swelled the entire lower ab area so that, from hip to hip, it's swelled out like on of those "Save the Babies" kids, with a grapefruit plopped on the end of it.
Just to put this in perspective (because the picture doesn't do the best job of it), the first bump is "The Pucker" which, as noted before, is the result of a stitch under the skin. The second bump is my little friend. So, off to the far left side you can sort of see a scar where my hip bone should be, and usually is. The grapefruit doesn't just stick out, but it has swelled the entire lower ab area so that, from hip to hip, it's swelled out like on of those "Save the Babies" kids, with a grapefruit plopped on the end of it. Pretty delicious. I know.
And the comeback?
Right before Ironman, I was asked to participate on a relay team for a run from Madison to Chicago in June. I said yes at the time, with the caveat that the whole kidney thing might make me retract my commitment.
Since I have been steadily biking, and can return (slowly) to running, it looks like I will be able to do the relay. However, I will need to talk to Danielle (organizer and fellow blogger) about how much they will need me to run, but I think it should be flexible and do-able. I really just want to do it because it sounds like fun, even if I can’t do 20-mile stretches.
I also know my limits. My fitness is slowly returning and will continue to do so as the race approaches. I know there are enough members on the team to cover if for some horrible reason I have a setback or am simply not ready. But I don’t think that would be the case. I can do this if I play it smart.
I think I was just hoping for some different (better?) news at the office. I think I was expecting them to say, “Oh, don’t worry about that melon hanging off your abdomen – should be gone by morning and your boyfriend (whose coming into town in one more day) won’t even throw up in his mouth when he sees it….Oh, and running? Feel free to sign up for that marathon next week.”
But as I said in a previous post – victor, not victim. I am happy that I can run even a little bit, and at least have an expectation of when my citrus friend says “Adios.” So I guess I can be satisfied with that.
Right before Ironman, I was asked to participate on a relay team for a run from Madison to Chicago in June. I said yes at the time, with the caveat that the whole kidney thing might make me retract my commitment.
Since I have been steadily biking, and can return (slowly) to running, it looks like I will be able to do the relay. However, I will need to talk to Danielle (organizer and fellow blogger) about how much they will need me to run, but I think it should be flexible and do-able. I really just want to do it because it sounds like fun, even if I can’t do 20-mile stretches.
I also know my limits. My fitness is slowly returning and will continue to do so as the race approaches. I know there are enough members on the team to cover if for some horrible reason I have a setback or am simply not ready. But I don’t think that would be the case. I can do this if I play it smart.
I think I was just hoping for some different (better?) news at the office. I think I was expecting them to say, “Oh, don’t worry about that melon hanging off your abdomen – should be gone by morning and your boyfriend (whose coming into town in one more day) won’t even throw up in his mouth when he sees it….Oh, and running? Feel free to sign up for that marathon next week.”
But as I said in a previous post – victor, not victim. I am happy that I can run even a little bit, and at least have an expectation of when my citrus friend says “Adios.” So I guess I can be satisfied with that.
Tuesday, May 13, 2008
Cliff hanger
Before I launch into my own hundrum life, I just wanted to give a HUGE HUGE scream of support to Momo, who received some fantastic news today. YAYAYAYAYAYAY!!!!!!!
As for me, the grapefruit is still hanging on for dear life on the front of my lower torso, so, uh, that's been pretty rad.
And frankly, disgusting.
However.
I have managed to ride my bike (on the trainer) several times. The first couple rides were sort of difficult, mostly becuase my knees/thighs would hit the grapefriut (yes, that is how HUGE it is). But I have worked myself up to a full hour as of last night. I felt fantastic, strong. I noticed though, that was WIPED OUT by about 10pm, so clearly the body is still recovering.
And before I get any (loving) lectures on doing too much too fast, I have been VERY careful not to overdo it. On the days I feel like doo-doo, I simply lay in bed and give myself toof cavitites by binging on Coco Puffs and ice cream. On the days I feel semi-human, I ride for 30-45 minutes, but the second I start to feel tired or winded, I hop off the bike.
No shame in my game. I know my limits.
Tomorrow is my first non-crisis-related post-surgery appointment, and I fully expect to get the green light on the running.
Which will be coming at a very good time because......
Well, I guess you'll have to tune in tomorrow for the big comeback announcement.....
As for me, the grapefruit is still hanging on for dear life on the front of my lower torso, so, uh, that's been pretty rad.
And frankly, disgusting.
However.
I have managed to ride my bike (on the trainer) several times. The first couple rides were sort of difficult, mostly becuase my knees/thighs would hit the grapefriut (yes, that is how HUGE it is). But I have worked myself up to a full hour as of last night. I felt fantastic, strong. I noticed though, that was WIPED OUT by about 10pm, so clearly the body is still recovering.
And before I get any (loving) lectures on doing too much too fast, I have been VERY careful not to overdo it. On the days I feel like doo-doo, I simply lay in bed and give myself toof cavitites by binging on Coco Puffs and ice cream. On the days I feel semi-human, I ride for 30-45 minutes, but the second I start to feel tired or winded, I hop off the bike.
No shame in my game. I know my limits.
Tomorrow is my first non-crisis-related post-surgery appointment, and I fully expect to get the green light on the running.
Which will be coming at a very good time because......
Well, I guess you'll have to tune in tomorrow for the big comeback announcement.....
Sunday, May 11, 2008
Victorious
(From today's "Dedication" for Baby Nolan)Two years ago, on Mother’s Day, my sister Ellen found out she was pregnant.
The structure of my family at that time was, to put it mildly, chaotic.
My father had died about a year and a half before, but we were all still trying to deal with it. Prior to his death, my parents were embroiled in a pretty ugly divorce, and my family was fragmented. My mother was the one to leave, and the family was reeling from it. As a result, she became Public Enemy #1.
My father’s death made matters worse, because there was the estate to deal with, and the battle over it broke the family even further. My mother, for most of my life, was my best friend. I tried to support her when she left during the divorce, but things got messy, things got angry.
But when my sister found out she was to become a mother, it marked a beginning of the turnaround in bringing the family back together.
Over the last year, Ellen and my mother, who have never been close and, in fact, bitterly at odds, reunited. Today, they are closer than anyone else in my family. Moreover, my mother’s return to the family unit seems to have made us whole again.
I don’t know if any of us kids ever fully appreciated the impact of our mother on our lives. At one point, she was working full-time, and raising five kids all under the age of eight. She was out mother and out father in many ways – she was the one who held all our secrets, who protected us, who fed us and hugged us, and rubbed our backs when we had fevers.
My mother was the one who forgave our shortcomings, no questions asked. She cried for us, and for our rebellion against her, but she never questioned her love or stopped loving us, no matter how much we messed up.
And we messed up good.
Today, two years after my sister found out she was pregnant on Mother’s Day, I sat next to my mother as we watched Ellen and her family baptize (“dedicate” they call it) her son to God. I was surrounded by my family, on the day which we come together to celebrate and appreciate the women who raise us and shape us into the people we are today.
I love my mom – I don’t tell her nearly enough. I missed her during those years. A lot. She was there almost every minute of every day the entire time I was in the hospital, and she may never know how much that meant to me.
When my mom hugged me “hello” this morning, she called me “my angel.” I know she meant it. And she that to us, as well - never judging, always supporting, always guiding.
In addition to this, I thought this was interesting and wanted to mention it. The congregation leader spoke about pain and suffering today. He spoke about how we have a choice in our suffering – to be victims or be victors.
My ears perked up – see, when Cheese and I fight, and he says something that hurts my feelings and I call him on it, he tells me I am playing the victim. And I absolutely hate that - I have never seen myself as a victim, or at least I didn’t think so.
But as I sat there today, it hit me that, in the last few weeks, I have made myself a victim – I have moaned about how I hurt, or what I lost, or what I can’t do or whatever else I found on that day to bitch about.
But what I haven’t done is celebrate all the things that I have – I have health, I have family, I have a body that was able to produce the healthiest possible organ for my brother, and I have a accomplishment of an Ironman and will that allow me to comeback soon and stronger than before. I have incredible friends that have given me words, hugs, shoulders and calls of support. I have a family that is very much healthy, and now whole.
I have more than I don’t, and I am not a victim. I would say that, looking at my life, I am very much a victor.
Friday, May 9, 2008
Post #2 for the Day - A Slight Change
Ever noticed how, in the midst of a life-changing event (i.e. a break up), girls always want to take their stress out on their hair?
Yeah, I'm no different.
So I went and got a fancy new haircut.
And bangs.
I had enough sense to not drastically chop it all off - at least today.
Can't decide if I am yet sold on this concept, but at least it's taking my mind off the pins and needles feeling in my abdomen.
Yeah, I'm no different.
So I went and got a fancy new haircut.
And bangs.
I had enough sense to not drastically chop it all off - at least today.
Can't decide if I am yet sold on this concept, but at least it's taking my mind off the pins and needles feeling in my abdomen.
Me Today
So here’s what’s happening.
Last Friday, I noticed that, between my belly button and the “cesarean” scar, my abdomen was expanding. It initially looked like a golf ball, then a lemon, and then an orange. I freaked out because I though my intestines were pushing through my skin, but turns out that, because of how they cut me for the surgery, a little cavity was left under my skin.
Over the course of the week, fluid started to fill this cavity, thus giving me the appearance of having a now-grapefruit hidden under my skin.
Not only does it hurt like hell, but it is mortifyingly disgusting to look at.
In fact, I showed my sister Ellen the other day, and she responded by making a gag face like she was throwing up.
I don’t blame her – I do the same thing every time I am forced to looked down.
Now, I know, rationally, that this will go away. I know this. Just like I know I will be able to run and swim and bike again. Soon. But it hurts, and it’s ugly. And when taken together with the lack of physical activity, I have never in my life felt so ugly. I don’t feel good physically or about myself.
The crazy part of this is that I know this was a good thing – I don’t regret and I am not mad or would ever complain about the donation itself. It was, in fact, the best decision I ever made. I have nothing but positive thoughts about the decision I made to do this. But part of me just wants my old life back, wants my energy, wants to not hurt anymore, wants to just feel good again.
I want to be IronMeg again.
I know that might sounds selfish, but I can’t help it.
And I know I just need to be patient. But when the pain claws at you for days on end, you start to just want to scream.
Las night, I had to go to the store to get another sundress (I can only wear dresses right now because it hurts too much to have anything touch the grapefruit belly). As I was standing in the aisle, the grapefruit belly delivered a stunning cramp – so bad it shot up my back, and I almost wanted to fall on the ground. I stood there, one hand on my sweaty forehead, the other on my belly, willing the tears not to fall and wondering if I needed to call my sister to come get me.
I waited, the pain passed, and I just gave up and went home – no dress.
And this is how it is. Everyday. All day.
Ironman was one thing– but this is the hardest thing I have ever done. Many times, I just cry to myself in my apartment, where I spend most of my time alone, laying in my bed. I cry for the pain, for the grapefruit, for the enormity of the whole donor thing. It has felt really lonely, mostly because I am physically alone.
I had no idea it would be this hard. All of it.
My brother has tried to reach out to me, but I have had limited contact this week. He is doing incredible, so happy and eager to live now, and I can’t let him see me like this – it scared him the other day to see me in so much pain, and I want him to feel all the happiness right now of being healthy. He doesn’t need any negative vibes around his new life.
That is why I tend to withdraw from this blog or emails – it’s just too hard to be that downer – even though I know you all say that it doesn’t matter, it does to me. Contrary to what I was recently accused of, I do not like to be sad, and it bothers me when I can’t shake it. Does it happen? Yes, to all of us. But does it feel good to be sad? No, so why spread that to others? I know I got a lot of shit in the recent post when I apologized for not feeling myself, so this isn’t an apology – more like an explanation of how I operate.
I am not doing a good job at explaining this. I sound like a selfish ass, like I am complaining, and that’s not what I am trying to get across. I think this is all compounded by other stress going on and weighing on me. It’s like when they took my kidney, they stuck an extra ovary in there to make me all weepy – like PMS only it doesn’t end after seven days.
On that note, I can’t say thank you enough for all the calls, instant messages, emails and comments. They do make me feel incredibly better, and like I will be okay – in fact, I kind of depend on them. The funny stuff makes me laugh in the moment, and talking about things other than kidney pain takes my mind off of the things here. I know I haven’t been great these last few days with returning some emails, but I will try to catch up this weekend.
So that’s me. Today.
Last Friday, I noticed that, between my belly button and the “cesarean” scar, my abdomen was expanding. It initially looked like a golf ball, then a lemon, and then an orange. I freaked out because I though my intestines were pushing through my skin, but turns out that, because of how they cut me for the surgery, a little cavity was left under my skin.
Over the course of the week, fluid started to fill this cavity, thus giving me the appearance of having a now-grapefruit hidden under my skin.
Not only does it hurt like hell, but it is mortifyingly disgusting to look at.
In fact, I showed my sister Ellen the other day, and she responded by making a gag face like she was throwing up.
I don’t blame her – I do the same thing every time I am forced to looked down.
Now, I know, rationally, that this will go away. I know this. Just like I know I will be able to run and swim and bike again. Soon. But it hurts, and it’s ugly. And when taken together with the lack of physical activity, I have never in my life felt so ugly. I don’t feel good physically or about myself.
The crazy part of this is that I know this was a good thing – I don’t regret and I am not mad or would ever complain about the donation itself. It was, in fact, the best decision I ever made. I have nothing but positive thoughts about the decision I made to do this. But part of me just wants my old life back, wants my energy, wants to not hurt anymore, wants to just feel good again.
I want to be IronMeg again.
I know that might sounds selfish, but I can’t help it.
And I know I just need to be patient. But when the pain claws at you for days on end, you start to just want to scream.
Las night, I had to go to the store to get another sundress (I can only wear dresses right now because it hurts too much to have anything touch the grapefruit belly). As I was standing in the aisle, the grapefruit belly delivered a stunning cramp – so bad it shot up my back, and I almost wanted to fall on the ground. I stood there, one hand on my sweaty forehead, the other on my belly, willing the tears not to fall and wondering if I needed to call my sister to come get me.
I waited, the pain passed, and I just gave up and went home – no dress.
And this is how it is. Everyday. All day.
Ironman was one thing– but this is the hardest thing I have ever done. Many times, I just cry to myself in my apartment, where I spend most of my time alone, laying in my bed. I cry for the pain, for the grapefruit, for the enormity of the whole donor thing. It has felt really lonely, mostly because I am physically alone.
I had no idea it would be this hard. All of it.
My brother has tried to reach out to me, but I have had limited contact this week. He is doing incredible, so happy and eager to live now, and I can’t let him see me like this – it scared him the other day to see me in so much pain, and I want him to feel all the happiness right now of being healthy. He doesn’t need any negative vibes around his new life.
That is why I tend to withdraw from this blog or emails – it’s just too hard to be that downer – even though I know you all say that it doesn’t matter, it does to me. Contrary to what I was recently accused of, I do not like to be sad, and it bothers me when I can’t shake it. Does it happen? Yes, to all of us. But does it feel good to be sad? No, so why spread that to others? I know I got a lot of shit in the recent post when I apologized for not feeling myself, so this isn’t an apology – more like an explanation of how I operate.
I am not doing a good job at explaining this. I sound like a selfish ass, like I am complaining, and that’s not what I am trying to get across. I think this is all compounded by other stress going on and weighing on me. It’s like when they took my kidney, they stuck an extra ovary in there to make me all weepy – like PMS only it doesn’t end after seven days.
On that note, I can’t say thank you enough for all the calls, instant messages, emails and comments. They do make me feel incredibly better, and like I will be okay – in fact, I kind of depend on them. The funny stuff makes me laugh in the moment, and talking about things other than kidney pain takes my mind off of the things here. I know I haven’t been great these last few days with returning some emails, but I will try to catch up this weekend.
So that’s me. Today.
Thursday, May 8, 2008
Here
Please hang in there with me, guys.
I am on a rollar coaster of emotions right now, and while I am usually one to vomit it all up on this blog, I simply can't seem to pull it together this week. Two days "up" apparently leads to two or three days "down."
I will try this again tomorrow.
I am on a rollar coaster of emotions right now, and while I am usually one to vomit it all up on this blog, I simply can't seem to pull it together this week. Two days "up" apparently leads to two or three days "down."
I will try this again tomorrow.
Tuesday, May 6, 2008
Exercise in Humility
(Warning: Large ego-check in progress. Watch for falling self-opinions.)
So I rode last night.
I decided that I would do an hour. That’s easy enough, right? I mean, come on, that’s like a warm-up for me right?
Wrong. So very, very, wrong.
I called it quits at about 45 minutes. I was gasping for air, sweat pouring off me, even though I stayed in a easy, cruising gear the whole time.
And Megan being Megan, I got frustrated with myself, and the conversation went a little bit like this:
Me: 45 minutes?!?!?!!? Are you kidding me?!?! I hate you, you stupid body.
Body: Hate you right back! Why do you keep doing this to me? I give and I give and I give, and you just take and take and then make me do things I am not ready for. Give me a break for crying out loud!
Me: Oh stop complaining. You did IM three weeks ago, I know you can break through this pain. I know you are better then this.
Body: I am, Megan, but you need to give me some time. If you don’t, I am going to revolt against you in a way you never imagined. LAY.OFF.ME. If 45 minutes is all I give, then you need to be happy with it. Get over yourself, you ego-maniac. END.OF.STORY.
Megan: *grumble….grumble* Fine….Still hate you.
Body: Whatever. And while we're on the topic, maybe you should stop feeding me boxes of candy instead of meals. What - did we all of the sudden forget about protien? The doctor says specifcally, "Eat protien" and you give me Red Vines? For breakfast?!? Grow up.
So I am learning, among other things, how to re-think and re-talk to myself.
Oh boy - is this “Square One” approach a test of my patience. I told Cheese last night - I always consider myself to be the exception. We all do, right? I mean, the doctor says, "Most people will take about four to six weeks to feel recovered, go back to work...." and we think, "Well, maybe, but I'm not like most people."
I know I am not the only one who thinks like this, right?
Right?!?!?
I think it would not be so bad if I didn’t have the two utmost extremes of physical ability within two weeks of each other - going from feeling invincible to totally broken.
This was never more clear then my little attempts at walking on the treadmill at the gym.
See, I’ve posted before about how I get this secret satisfaction when I go to the gym to run the treadmill after riding the trainer for 3-4-5 hours. I like running and thinking, “Yeah, this is like my 4th or 5th or 6th hour of working out today.” I like knowing that.
But I never really thought that in a narcissistic or superiority way. I was never snide out it – just proud, and proud of myself for being able to do it.
In fact, throughout the training, I have always felt proud – and mostly because, at the beginning of each new and long workout, I was terrified of what that workout would bring – pain, tears, injury, etc. So in finishing a workout, the pride was about overcoming that fear, and pushing through.
The payoff was non-quantifiable. To finish Ironman, and race the way I wanted – I was at the extreme peak of what my body could do.
And then fast forward to two weeks later. Scene: Me, on the treadmill, surrounded by people running, singing along to their iPods while bouncing along. I found myself overwhelmed with the desire to scream, “But I just did Ironman!!! Three weeks ago! I am just walking because I had surgery! But I am better than this!”
Okay, how narcissistic is that?!?!
Like, who effing care that I am walking and why? No one cares. NO ONE. It’s only my own ego about what I think I SHOULD be doing. I am embarrassed about this and yes, I know I need to take myself down a notch.
It occurred to me that my mental strength was what ultimately got me through Ironman, and my mental strength is the thing that is going to make or break this recovery. If I keep getting in my own way, I am going to have setback after setback. But if I can just teach myself to accept life as it is in this moment, then I can comeback slowly but strong.
Sigh. Sounds so easy, but we are talking about a girl’s whose second most obvious “hole” is the place when my patience should be.
So 45 minutes on the bike will do for now. I will say this though – I woke up this morning feeling like I did a 7-hour brick.
But I guess I have never been one to turn down a challenge.
So I rode last night.
I decided that I would do an hour. That’s easy enough, right? I mean, come on, that’s like a warm-up for me right?
Wrong. So very, very, wrong.
I called it quits at about 45 minutes. I was gasping for air, sweat pouring off me, even though I stayed in a easy, cruising gear the whole time.
And Megan being Megan, I got frustrated with myself, and the conversation went a little bit like this:
Me: 45 minutes?!?!?!!? Are you kidding me?!?! I hate you, you stupid body.
Body: Hate you right back! Why do you keep doing this to me? I give and I give and I give, and you just take and take and then make me do things I am not ready for. Give me a break for crying out loud!
Me: Oh stop complaining. You did IM three weeks ago, I know you can break through this pain. I know you are better then this.
Body: I am, Megan, but you need to give me some time. If you don’t, I am going to revolt against you in a way you never imagined. LAY.OFF.ME. If 45 minutes is all I give, then you need to be happy with it. Get over yourself, you ego-maniac. END.OF.STORY.
Megan: *grumble….grumble* Fine….Still hate you.
Body: Whatever. And while we're on the topic, maybe you should stop feeding me boxes of candy instead of meals. What - did we all of the sudden forget about protien? The doctor says specifcally, "Eat protien" and you give me Red Vines? For breakfast?!? Grow up.
So I am learning, among other things, how to re-think and re-talk to myself.
Oh boy - is this “Square One” approach a test of my patience. I told Cheese last night - I always consider myself to be the exception. We all do, right? I mean, the doctor says, "Most people will take about four to six weeks to feel recovered, go back to work...." and we think, "Well, maybe, but I'm not like most people."
I know I am not the only one who thinks like this, right?
Right?!?!?
I think it would not be so bad if I didn’t have the two utmost extremes of physical ability within two weeks of each other - going from feeling invincible to totally broken.
This was never more clear then my little attempts at walking on the treadmill at the gym.
See, I’ve posted before about how I get this secret satisfaction when I go to the gym to run the treadmill after riding the trainer for 3-4-5 hours. I like running and thinking, “Yeah, this is like my 4th or 5th or 6th hour of working out today.” I like knowing that.
But I never really thought that in a narcissistic or superiority way. I was never snide out it – just proud, and proud of myself for being able to do it.
In fact, throughout the training, I have always felt proud – and mostly because, at the beginning of each new and long workout, I was terrified of what that workout would bring – pain, tears, injury, etc. So in finishing a workout, the pride was about overcoming that fear, and pushing through.
The payoff was non-quantifiable. To finish Ironman, and race the way I wanted – I was at the extreme peak of what my body could do.
And then fast forward to two weeks later. Scene: Me, on the treadmill, surrounded by people running, singing along to their iPods while bouncing along. I found myself overwhelmed with the desire to scream, “But I just did Ironman!!! Three weeks ago! I am just walking because I had surgery! But I am better than this!”
Okay, how narcissistic is that?!?!
Like, who effing care that I am walking and why? No one cares. NO ONE. It’s only my own ego about what I think I SHOULD be doing. I am embarrassed about this and yes, I know I need to take myself down a notch.
It occurred to me that my mental strength was what ultimately got me through Ironman, and my mental strength is the thing that is going to make or break this recovery. If I keep getting in my own way, I am going to have setback after setback. But if I can just teach myself to accept life as it is in this moment, then I can comeback slowly but strong.
Sigh. Sounds so easy, but we are talking about a girl’s whose second most obvious “hole” is the place when my patience should be.
So 45 minutes on the bike will do for now. I will say this though – I woke up this morning feeling like I did a 7-hour brick.
But I guess I have never been one to turn down a challenge.
Monday, May 5, 2008
The Good and the Bad
Thanks for putting up with my crap these last few days. I hate not being able to be my normal, biting, sarcastic self. I hate disappearing and then putting up posts of me complaining about not feeling good.
So I will give some good news and bad news (mostly good).
The Good:
1. My swelling is due to fluid accumulating in a cavity that was left behind my belly skin when they cut me open. I guess this is sort of normal, but I have an appointment next week to check it, just in case it doesn't "drain on it's own." And I would totally put a picture up, but trust me when I say, it is nothing short of absurdly disgusting. Imagine if one were to have a fat water balloon attached to the abdominal area.
2. My back pain is due to the wound that was left when they took the kidney. Once out of the body, it left a large emptiness. So the pain is basically the body trying to sort itself out, and close up the wound that was left behind. It would have been a good thing to have known about these things BEFORE leaving the hospital, because apparently they are normal. But if I am not told to expect them, then I think I am dying when the pain increases and doesn't go away.
3. There's not a ton I can do about my pain, but it will hopefully start to minimize in about another week. At least there is an end in sight.
4. I saw my brother at the hospital - he looks like a completely different person, like 10 years younger then his actual age. I think I scared him a littel though, because I was a ton of pain and trying to explain what the cuts look like (I think I said something like my body is carved up, or it looks disgusting, or something) which triggered me to cry. He and his wife looked sort of startled, because I don't remember the last time my brother saw me cry. He sort of moved to hug me, but I don't usually hug (there are rare exceptions). He texted me later to tell me he felt "sad" when he saw that, which then made me feel bad, because he is feeling all good and new and fresh, and he shouldn't have to see me in pain and upset. It's like a buzz kill.
5. The doctor said that, when I feel like it, I can RIDE MY BIKE!!!!!! He said, "But not on the street - no street yet." As long as I keep it in the trainer, I can go for about 30 minutes. No running for at least another week, and I can start swimming by Friday (as long as my scars look healed).
The Bad:
1. PAIN!!!!!!!! Still there, still hard, still having trouble wearing pants. My back pain is almost worse then the stomach swelling and scar pain, 'cause I can't get comfortable for anything.
The End:
So the good outweighs the bad. I made sure to ask a TON of questions about what to expect (because I am not getting caught off-guard again with this) and made sure I was given the green light regarding training (because I am not going to catch shit about trying to get back too soon).
I hope this is my my last post about this nonsense. No more complaining, no more whining. Pain is pain, and at least I know I should have it. And if I know, then I can deal with it.
A "Normal Megan" post will return tomorrow.
So I will give some good news and bad news (mostly good).
The Good:
1. My swelling is due to fluid accumulating in a cavity that was left behind my belly skin when they cut me open. I guess this is sort of normal, but I have an appointment next week to check it, just in case it doesn't "drain on it's own." And I would totally put a picture up, but trust me when I say, it is nothing short of absurdly disgusting. Imagine if one were to have a fat water balloon attached to the abdominal area.
2. My back pain is due to the wound that was left when they took the kidney. Once out of the body, it left a large emptiness. So the pain is basically the body trying to sort itself out, and close up the wound that was left behind. It would have been a good thing to have known about these things BEFORE leaving the hospital, because apparently they are normal. But if I am not told to expect them, then I think I am dying when the pain increases and doesn't go away.
3. There's not a ton I can do about my pain, but it will hopefully start to minimize in about another week. At least there is an end in sight.
4. I saw my brother at the hospital - he looks like a completely different person, like 10 years younger then his actual age. I think I scared him a littel though, because I was a ton of pain and trying to explain what the cuts look like (I think I said something like my body is carved up, or it looks disgusting, or something) which triggered me to cry. He and his wife looked sort of startled, because I don't remember the last time my brother saw me cry. He sort of moved to hug me, but I don't usually hug (there are rare exceptions). He texted me later to tell me he felt "sad" when he saw that, which then made me feel bad, because he is feeling all good and new and fresh, and he shouldn't have to see me in pain and upset. It's like a buzz kill.
5. The doctor said that, when I feel like it, I can RIDE MY BIKE!!!!!! He said, "But not on the street - no street yet." As long as I keep it in the trainer, I can go for about 30 minutes. No running for at least another week, and I can start swimming by Friday (as long as my scars look healed).
The Bad:
1. PAIN!!!!!!!! Still there, still hard, still having trouble wearing pants. My back pain is almost worse then the stomach swelling and scar pain, 'cause I can't get comfortable for anything.
The End:
So the good outweighs the bad. I made sure to ask a TON of questions about what to expect (because I am not getting caught off-guard again with this) and made sure I was given the green light regarding training (because I am not going to catch shit about trying to get back too soon).
I hope this is my my last post about this nonsense. No more complaining, no more whining. Pain is pain, and at least I know I should have it. And if I know, then I can deal with it.
A "Normal Megan" post will return tomorrow.
Sunday, May 4, 2008
Update
So the best decision of the day was calling the doctor.
He said, "Uh no, Megan, that should not be happening (in reference to the disgusting abdominal swelling and back pain).
I will go back to the hospital tomorrow for an examination and testing to figure this out.
In the meantime, I will lay in my bed.
Which I seem to never leave anymore.
Patience has never been my strength.
He said, "Uh no, Megan, that should not be happening (in reference to the disgusting abdominal swelling and back pain).
I will go back to the hospital tomorrow for an examination and testing to figure this out.
In the meantime, I will lay in my bed.
Which I seem to never leave anymore.
Patience has never been my strength.
Still Alive...
but been pretty sick. Finally called doctor this morning (Sunday) 'cause I can't take the pain anymore, and now waiting to hear if I go back to the hospital.
Will let you know...
Will let you know...
Thursday, May 1, 2008
Still Working on the Coherent-Thought Post
But until then...
SITC - The Movie
Today was “Sex in the City Day” on Oprah.
Cut me some slack– my need to move slow these days allows me extra time in the morning to leave the house.
So....I may have caught the first few minutes.
Or 30 – get off my back.
In any case, was it me, or was the Big O sort of like, molesting SJP on her show today? At least in those opening few moments? Personally, if someone was going to paw at me like that in public, I usually require a decent seafood dinner before hand.
P.S. I am SO going to see this movie.
And I hate myself for it.
Youth?
I have decided that Wheel of Fortune goes against the grain of what’s normal.
Not only have this show been on t.v. since I was a twinkle in my dad’s belt buckle, but Pat Sajak and Vanna White have clearly signed their name in blood for never-ending youth, and the shit FREAKS ME OUT.
Gross, Part I
For no good reason, I am sitting here sweating. It’s not like I'm in my parka with the heat turned up to "Hell." In fact, I am in a towel, fresh from the shower. But yet I can feel the drips trickling down my arms from the pits. Hmmm….
Gross, Part II
On a separate, but not totally unrelated note, the ungodly amounts of stool softeners and suppositories shoved in me during my recent hospital stay seem to have finally banded together and are unleashing their angry vengeance upon my rectum. Why vengeance? Well, you might be a bit pissed off, too, if you were shoved up my ass.
Yeah.
I'm feeling a bit better today.
SITC - The Movie
Today was “Sex in the City Day” on Oprah.
Cut me some slack– my need to move slow these days allows me extra time in the morning to leave the house.
So....I may have caught the first few minutes.
Or 30 – get off my back.
In any case, was it me, or was the Big O sort of like, molesting SJP on her show today? At least in those opening few moments? Personally, if someone was going to paw at me like that in public, I usually require a decent seafood dinner before hand.
P.S. I am SO going to see this movie.
And I hate myself for it.
Youth?
I have decided that Wheel of Fortune goes against the grain of what’s normal.
Not only have this show been on t.v. since I was a twinkle in my dad’s belt buckle, but Pat Sajak and Vanna White have clearly signed their name in blood for never-ending youth, and the shit FREAKS ME OUT.
Gross, Part I
For no good reason, I am sitting here sweating. It’s not like I'm in my parka with the heat turned up to "Hell." In fact, I am in a towel, fresh from the shower. But yet I can feel the drips trickling down my arms from the pits. Hmmm….
Gross, Part II
On a separate, but not totally unrelated note, the ungodly amounts of stool softeners and suppositories shoved in me during my recent hospital stay seem to have finally banded together and are unleashing their angry vengeance upon my rectum. Why vengeance? Well, you might be a bit pissed off, too, if you were shoved up my ass.
Yeah.
I'm feeling a bit better today.
Wednesday, April 30, 2008
What Goes Up....
Today was bad.
Pain in belly and back.
Limb swelling.
Fever.
Laid in bed most of day, except to pee, poop and shower.
No office, no gym.
I am very sensitive today – I am crying easily.
I know tomorrow will be better – it always is.
I just liked being on that fast track to health.
A bright moment was that Triathlete Magazine emailed me about possibly doing an article about the last few weeks.
Sadly, though, after talking to me, they decided not to.
Maybe it was my dull personality.
Or maybe they got hold of one of my "old people" rants.
Ha.
Just kidding –my pain is making me snappy right now.
Truth is, they just thought my blog told my story good enough, so they are linking on their website.
And my blog is good enough – lots of great things have come from it.
And the best part is that it’s my voice and my words.
I feel like crying again.
I’m so sorry I am not myself right now.
I promise some humor tomorrow.
There might be some scabs or poop involved.
Pain in belly and back.
Limb swelling.
Fever.
Laid in bed most of day, except to pee, poop and shower.
No office, no gym.
I am very sensitive today – I am crying easily.
I know tomorrow will be better – it always is.
I just liked being on that fast track to health.
A bright moment was that Triathlete Magazine emailed me about possibly doing an article about the last few weeks.
Sadly, though, after talking to me, they decided not to.
Maybe it was my dull personality.
Or maybe they got hold of one of my "old people" rants.
Ha.
Just kidding –my pain is making me snappy right now.
Truth is, they just thought my blog told my story good enough, so they are linking on their website.
And my blog is good enough – lots of great things have come from it.
And the best part is that it’s my voice and my words.
I feel like crying again.
I’m so sorry I am not myself right now.
I promise some humor tomorrow.
There might be some scabs or poop involved.
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