Labor of Love

Good Morning! Was getting up this morning as tough for everyone else as it was for me? I had overdone it a bit yesterday so I needed some pain pills last night. While they help me sleep and chase the pain away, they end up giving me some really strange dreams, and I wake up a LOT overnight, positive I just slept 8 hours when it was really 45 minutes from the last time I checked. So I was awake before the alarm this morning, but that didn’t mean I was happy about it! 

All things considered, we had a pretty OK Labor Day weekend. Friday’s surgery was pretty routine. The doctor found a lot of scar tissue that was the source of my pain. He did NOT find any new endometriosis, so there’s hope I won’t need to do this again for a while. Once I got home, all I could do was sleep though! I spent most of Friday half conscious, waking up just enough to start the next episode of Numbers on Netflix and fall back asleep. I got out of bed and went to get the mail-Nurse Duncan was NOT amused. He started howling at me the second I came back in the house! I stood there and tried to talk to Jeff for another minute, and he kept advancing and howling at me. I go back to bed, he follows me in, positions himself between me and the door, and lays down with one eye on me. Apparently my dog knows what’s good for me better than I do! 

We did manage to get out of the house and out to dinner Friday night, since I was blissfully NOT nauseous from the anesthesia. I kept it simple and just had a soup, a delicious salad, and a few bites of Jeff’s pappardale. We got some chocolate and salted caramel cake to go and were in bed by 8:30. Poor Jeff had to get up at 5 with me to make it to the hospital on time and he did NOT sleep all day like I did, so poor guy was OUT cold after our dessert. 

Beautiful AND delicious!

Most of the rest of the weekend, I was keeping a balance between pain pills, doing too much, napping, and repeating. I just get super wiped out after surgery anymore. It’s really the most lingering side effect of the whole thing, which is hard for me to deal with as a normally high energy person. Being laid up for a few days really does give me a chance to kind of examine my life-where I am, where I want to be, is what I hold important REALLY what’s important? It gave me a lot to think about. 

When we were at the coffee shop this weekend, I got in some good people watching. Lately, back to school has been all over my Facebook feed, kids holding the magic chalkboard to document what grade they’re starting. And maybe I’m in an extra introspective mood, but it got me to thinking. When we’re little, we’re just discovering what we’re good at. We try everything (except broccoli). And more often than not, it’s our parents, our siblings, our classmates who determine what we stick with. When our interests or talents veer into the uncool, they’re all quick to let us know-and we stop. It’s all about finding what you’re good at-as long as you fit in with the crowd. We spend the first 18 years trying to find our talents within the bubble of what’s socially acceptable, and the rest of our lives trying to get back the individuality we stuffed down. 

I’m ready to find what I love doing again, whether it’s blog worthy or not. I can remember deciding to go on my first diet at age 10. I was always super conscious of my body and that dictated what situations I’d put myself in. I wouldn’t try most sports because I was uncoordinated, slightly bigger than the other girls, and did NOT like attention. In junior high, I stepped out of my bubble and tried to pay volleyball, basketball, cheerleading. None of them went over well and I got teased a lot. It just reinforced my body consciousness and how I felt about myself. Makes me wonder about all the fun I missed out on because I wasn’t comfortable in my own skin. 

I’m not a wonderful chef, but I have good instincts and I’m a fair to good baker. I would be good at knitting if I could sit still long enough to finish something. I am a terrible artist, but some furniture design and DIY has been catching my eye lately. I’m not a fast runner, but my propensity for masochism and a good dose of sweat make it one of my favorite things to do. Maybe it’s time to quit apologizing for everything and try things without fear-even if middle school Laura would get flamed mercilessly for it. I told myself a year ago that once we got married, I’d be able to devote entire weekends to whatever struck my fancy. Get an urge to read all weekend? Go for it! Want to try and make your own tomato sauce? Have at it! I forgot that along the way because I got so fixated on living my life in order to see a certain number on the scale. Will anyone remember that I weighed XXX and was in the middle of my healthy weight range when I die? NO. But maybe they’ll remember how I was always quick to gift some comfort food, a cute craft, or some time walking together to hash out whatever is bothering us. Life’s too short to restrict yourself so you fit in everyone’s box of where they think you belong. 

Dogs. They're just the best.

Dogs. They’re just the best.

Insanity is…

I’m slowly inching away from blogging again. I just don’t know how other bloggers do it. How they stay interesting, fresh, new. Is there interest in the mundane, repetitive events of my day? I don’t know. I work. I eat the same things. I run a lot. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat. It also feels like my “big revelations”, my mental issues I know I need to solve, keep circling in my head. I have some great idea how to get over it, I never put it into practice, and then a few months later I’m still bemoaning that last 5 pounds, another surgery, or that nagging running injury I can’t shake. 

I’m trying to only blog when I’ve got something important to say. But lately, I feel like what I think is important, I’ve already beat to death with words. I need to start taking everyone’s advice and actually using it instead of just thinking “great idea, would never work for me because XXX” and keep doing what I’m doing. I’m not unhappy, I’m actually pretty darn happy and optimistic these days, but if I keep letting the same themes run my life, I’m just never going to grow. And maybe it’s time. A friend asked me last night if I was taking any steps towards my goal of being a corporate wellness director. I had to admit that I took the one rejection pretty hard and just stopped. One person tells me no and I take it as gospel. Not to get too philosophical or cliched, but I’m sure every great person got told no probably more than once and kept going. So if I want to be greater, I need to do greater. 

More to come, but I’m about to take off for a much needed massage! Getting a sports massage to try and rid myself of this shin pain, and if that doesn’t work I guess it’s xray time. Oh, body, didn’t you get the memo that I was going to beat on you and run you into the ground, but you were just supposed to take it and stay healthy? What do you mean, 30 miles a week for 6 months takes a toll? Lame. But maybe time to evaluate a few items on my fitness routine. 

Am I cranky or are they tacky?

Everyone has undoubtedly heard about the suicide of Robin Williams by now. It’s sad, it’s all over every news page and feed, and it’s a reminder to hold onto those you love. But I’m feeling a bit apprehensive about the number of bloggers I see in my facebook feed trying to use this tragedy to start a discussion and stir up traffic. I just don’t feel like that’s in good form. Maybe it’s just me and maybe I’m cranky, but “Oh, no, Robin Williams died! New blog link in the comments-what’s your favorite movie of his?” just seems tacky and tasteless. 

In more “Laura is basically a grumpy old grandma these days” news, it seems like I’m falling apart these days! Tomorrow we have an appointment to check how severe the return of my endometriosis is, and hopefully from there we can formulate a game plan or schedule the next surgery. My left leg has been bugging me for about 3 weeks, and I can’t decide if I should start by getting a massage and see if that helps or if I should go straight to the dr at this point. I did get a pedicure while this has been going on, and they do give a bit of a massage there and it didn’t help. Any runners feel free to chime in on this-my lower left leg, both front and back (or maybe that means in the bone?) just feels a stabby pain and like it’s heavier than the other when I start running. The pain fades a bit while running, but if I stop and start then I go through the cycle of “OUCH! OUCH ouch ow OK I’m cool now” all over again. Then after the workout, my leg will be sore and the pain radiates down to my heel. If I get up in the middle of the night to pee or get a drink, my heel really hurts for the first few steps. My online research is pretty sure it’s fatal, so any contradictory theories are appreciated. 

I’m also just very exhausted lately. Took a brief nap after work yesterday, which means I’ve just fallen asleep in the middle of the day for 4 days in a row, and my eyes are all red and bloodshot like I’ve been on a bender (I promise I haven’t). Today’s my 3 hour gym day, and I’m hoping I make it through without curling up on a weight bench for 5 minutes! 

So, basically, today’s blog post=Laura’s a big whiner. Tell me something good and cheer me up here, friends! And as always, lets end on a funny note! 


Guys? Guys, why are you laughing? I don’t get it.

What the WHAT?

I haven’t blogged for a while, and this isn’t really how I wanted to come back. But I got some news today that was so frustrating, I just need to vent about it. And you’re my captive audience. 

Most people who know me are aware that I’ve been fighting with endometriosis since I was about 23. If you don’t know what it is, click here for a nice medical description.  Last November, Jeff and I made the decision to go ahead with my doctor’s recommendation and have a hysterectomy. I’d been through 9 laser laparoscopies to remove the excess tissue, and this was the next step to try and get me pain free. Made sense to me-no uterus, no uterine tissue to grow everywhere, right? 

Wrong. I knew there was a chance that it could come back. The nature of the disease is that uterine tissue grows in non uterine places. And while generally it’s just on the outside of the uterus, it’s not confined to that spot. Talking to the nurses at my doctor’s office and going over past surgeries, my disease did like to engulf my left ovary (or was it my right? I can’t remember) and the outside quadrants of my uterus. It was also quite happy to grow on my ureters and around my pelvic wall. I bet you can tell where I’m going with this…

It’s back. I started having pretty serious pain again last week. I thought, hey, maybe it’s ovulation pain-I have no clue or way to have a clue about when that happens for a lady without a uterus. But it’s been hanging in there for the last week, and I started to wonder. So I called the dr, and they are pretty sure it’s back. They wanted to schedule an ultrasound, and pending those results I’m in for another surgery. 

I cannot covey how frustrated I am. I cannot believe that it’s back already. 8 short months. Jeez, even WITH a uterus I used to be able to make it through 10 pain free months. Having the hysterectomy was mentally harder on me than I thought it would be. It makes conversations as a newlywed awkward. It makes you feel like an outsider around friends and coworkers who talk about their kids and hush when you show up. And now, to find out I had major surgery for basically nothing? Infuriating. Devastating. I want to curl up and cry. I want to go for a run until I can’t breathe anymore. I want a gallon of wine. I feel totally helpless. This is going to take some processing. I feel like I let people down. Like I let my husband down. He shouldn’t have to deal with this. I shouldn’t have to deal with this. But we do. So I’m going to take tonight and throw a mini pity party, then we’ll deal with whatever comes. Because we’re a team, and though this sucks, it’s not the end of the world. 


Gotta end with a giggle, right?