Tag Archives: self improvement

Stages of My Post Surgical Life – Part One

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My Pre-Op Attitude

Stage 1: The Prelude
AKA Before Operation – Characterized by:

 

  • Insane optimism – I WILL return to full-time work in 1 month, tops! EVERYONE will be in AWE of my stunning recovery – there will be tears of joy, applause, balloons, puppies, because who doesn’t love puppies in a triumphant return day dream? All recoreded in slow motion video. Also, my hair will magically stop impersonating the Lion King and my skin will clear up.

  • Impressive consumption of bone strengthening supplement power, protein power (that only tastes mostly of chalk thats been scraped off a sidewalk), stupidly expensive (but totally worth it!) miracle powders in green containers from Whole Foods, and actual green things all combined in blender. My muscles and bones will the best muscle and bones the surgical team has EVER seen. They will so impressed they will take pictures and post them to their surgeon friends. I will be famous in the medical community for having the absolute BEST bones anyone has ever seen. There will be autograph requests and TLC will do a special on my amazingly strong bones. I will be remarkably humble and slightly embarrassed about the attention and fame.

  • Enthusiastic daily strengthening exercises! Squats, planks, leg lifts 24/7.
  • Rekindling of old flame, not because of lame reasons like I’m worried about pretty major surgery, because I totally GOT this surgery thing, but because this time it’s gonna be so different from all those other rekindles that crashed and burned, well actually flopped, fizzled and limped off whimpering. But THIS time he’ll really SEE how wonderful I am. He will sleep in a chair at my bedside, make me protein shakes and miraculously lose all those somewhat irritating character flaws just for me. We will bond. He too will be awed about my amazing recovery and some point we will ride horses. Into the sunset. On a Motherfucking beach. That’s EXACTLY how this is going to go.

 

Stage 2: The Deed
AKA Operation Day – How Things Actually Happened. According to Me. On Morphine.

 

Right. So surgery is just a tiny wee itsy bitsy bit more involved than we had planned. Something about complications… bones dissolving, lots of bleeding, extra hard hammering of metal parts that break my femur, but just in about 6 or 7 places, so no biggie. Not a problem, see impressive preparation above. I will still be triumphant. PT, OT, medical and nursing staff will be stunned by my Can-Do attitude and miraculous healing powers. Some will suspect mutant genes or that I am secretly an X-Man. Professor Charles Francis Xavier – the Patrick Steward version – will come visit and ask me to join him. I will tearfully accept. Music will play, hospital staff will applaud (in slow motion, because see above).

I am now short a couple of pints of blood and didn’t quite have the super impressive bones I had imagined. Sadly there will be no
autograph tours with orthopedic surgeons. But I am stuffed with awesome NEW bone grafts from cadaver bones, which is totally awesome because Walking Dead jokes for The. Rest. Of. My. Life. I’m certain my donor will turn out to be a famous salsa dancer so along with my upcoming remarkable recovery I will also develop a sense of rhythm and the ability to move my hips independently of my spine. My students will be in awe of my new salsa based sculpt classes and they will have to move my classes to larger venues to accommodate the huge influx of students.

I am part Borg now. Which is totally badass. Screws, clamps, ties, implants, kinda creepy claw thingy – Got ’em! Resistance is futile.

 

 

 

 

 

coming soon….

Stage 3: WTF Leg?
I’d Like to Move It, Move It

somewhat un-zen life hacks

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Things I have learned lately and not so lately

Topic 1: Not Remotely Zen and the Art of Automotive Maintenance

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  • Be wary of Google maps when they suggest a ‘faster route’ to your swanky restaurant date with your daughters (one cooking for you, one eating with you).
  • Faster routes in Google maps can mean potholes the size of large bowling balls.
  • Potholes the size of large bowling balls can mean tire blowouts/flats in questionable parts of Chicago at night.
  • When changing a post pothole the size of a large bowling ball tire in questionable parts of Chicago at night be sure to turn your car lights off so the battery doesn’t get drained.
  • When changing a tire at night in a questionable part of Chicago saying ‘Ok Google turn on flashlight’ to your phone works better that ‘Ok Google where the fuck is the flashlight?’ – the second will have Google autocorrect ‘fuck’ to ‘phone your ex who told you to stop swearing so much’ and no good will come from THAT conversation.
  • When flat tires won’t come off even though you’ve removed all the goddamn lugnuts and pulled as hard as you can, you can try calling AAA, and you can try the police to help – because questionable area –  but do not try this  on the night the Cubs get into the World’s Series, because all of the police are at Wrigleyville and not in your questionable part of Chicago.
  • When flat tires won’t come off, even though you’ve done every bloody thing correctly and you’re going to be late to your reservation using ‘Very Loud Creative Swears’ whilst yanking on the motherf’ing tire will, in fact remove the flat tire and send you a few feet back with a filthy tire on your trendy, I’m going to a swanky restaurant outfit and your ass on the equally filthy roadside, but you won’t care, because pulling that motherf’cker off was extremely satisfying.
  • Once a goddamn flat tire is finally off the car, two motivated women can get a spare tire on in less than two minutes because Bitches Get Stuff Done and there was a swanky restaurant waiting for us.stephen_portrait
  • And just in case handling a flat Like A Boss wasn’t satisfying enough, the Chef comes out to greet us personally and gives us a tour of the kitchens because besides being cool and badasses, we also love eating exceptional food.

 

 

Topic 2: Dating or Dr. Really Strangelove and How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb

  • images-2Never date musicians
  • No good has ever come from dating a musician, so when screening potential dates ask first if they can play an instrument.
  • Playing piano might be okay, but plays electric guitar in a band is RIGHT out – do not walk, RUN away.
  • Never date Scorpios
  • I’m certain there are some very lovely Scorpio men out there, but do not date them. Scorpio in any part of their chart, just to be safe. Scorpio Moons especially no.
  • No more Latino men – no, no, no, no, and Hell no. Write this down, because apparently this is a smooth spot in your brain – NO Latino men. Mexican, Peruvian, Ecuadorian, Spanish doesn’t manner, don’t do it. It will never end well.
  • Catholic Latino men who adore their mother. Just don’t. You can’t even. You will never ever even. You will be switched from Madonna to Whore and back so many times you will get whiplash. You will swear too much, smile too little, never cook as well, be respected too much or way too little. You will never be good enough. This is a fact, at least for you, it is a fact. For the love of your remaining sanity and shattered ego, don’t go there.
  • Scorpio Latino Musician? Run.
  • Never date Irishmen, especially if they’re poets. No good ever came from dating an Irish poet. Write that down in your journal till you remember it.
  • Basically dating is a bad idea. Dating will invariably lead to adding another category to the list of men you are never to date again.
  • You might think being a yoga teacher with long curly hair would attract suitable men to date, it does not. It does however, attract all manner of suggestions regarding flexibility and comments about anatomy.

Topic 3: Approaching Interesting Men with Beards in restaurants images-1

  • DO IT. They could turn out to be a really cool band and invite you to come do yoga with them and go to their gigs
  • Do not date them – see above. Hang with them, do yoga with them, be generally be cool around them.

 

 

Topic 4: Retail / Food therapy or Eat, Read, Love

  • Buy the sweater, it will be warm and soft and gorgeous, feel like a hug and it will never judge you, tell you to smile more or to be more ladylike.
  • Buy the book(s), they will be interesting, expand your thinking and always there for you and will never ignore you when you need them most.
  • Buy infinity scarf with e.e. cumming’s poetry  i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart) all over it because poetry that some men write is so much better than most men.
  • Reread Neruda, because poetry… so much better than actual men.
  • Buy the fingerless gloves with that section from Wuthering Heights that you love because well-written words, so much better than…. men.
  • Buy dessert, eat it whenever the fuck you want, and love every moment of eating it, because life is short and often needs chocolate. Also chocolate never judges you, ever.
  • downloadMovies – Go to them. Find a friend,  go alone. Put butter on your popcorn, eat it all. Movies where the creeptastic man meets a very satisfying end are especially good.

 

 

Also, yoga. Do some yoga, get sweaty, fall on your ass, get up again. Repeat.

 

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moments before a less than graceful landing

 

have you considered flinging feces at it?

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fairly accurate illustration of my brain and hair on an average day

 

So, you might already know I’m not the most meditative person on the planet.

Or maybe you think that because I’m a yoga teacher I’m just All Zen, All the time.

Pete was what you would call 'easily distracted....

Right. About that. Left unattended, I have the average attention span of an over caffeinated squirrel.

So in the pursuit of some mental calm, for scraps to mental peace and quiet, for maybe 3 or 4 thought free nano seconds, for the answers to life the universe and everything, or maybe just how to figure out my “it’s really so fucking complicated I can’t even” relationship status (get ON that one willya Facebook?), I have started meditating again.

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I drink Kombucha. I have a freaking LOTUS FLOWER tattoo. Still want to smack.

I also found Mastin Kipp and his blog The Daily Love and just to be safe I’m reading his book.  Also, I started journalling. I have done these things before, but in my usual, mostly distracted about some little thing or another way, I had dropped both a long while ago in favour of more worthy pursuits, such as:

  • Netflix
  • Ben and Jerry’s
  • Netflix with Ben and Jerry’s
  • Pokemon Go
  • Pokemon Go with Ben and Jerry’s
  • Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, Snapchat, but NOT Pinterest (not sure why, maybe I’ll pop over there for just a second)
  • All of the above with Ben and Jerry’s
  • Googling stupid things (long story, but you really, really, REALLY don’t ever want to Google ‘asshole yoga’ looking for funny yoga teacher stories. Just don’t. Learn from my mistake.  Did you just Google it even though I said not too? Are you sorry now? Don’t ever say I never warned you.
  • Looking at approximately 3 bazillion*  (*estimated, rounded down to the nearest bazillion) memes, images and gifs about being distracted, having monkey mind, having too many thoughts, Hyperbole and a Half,  hair products (completely unrelated, because… Squirrel!) Wait But Why, and only just at this moment noticing The Irony.
  • Lamenting that I am now out of Ben and Jerry’simages

I also discovered how fun passive aggressively coping with frustration by live Tweeting could be. Like, say that time I didn’t show up 15 minutes early to my Discount Tire appointment.

 

And you wonder why my friends dubbed me Zen Bitch.

So meditating. How hard could it be? I mean I used to belong to the is way cool Buddhist group that mediated for 2 freakin hours on Sundays. I semi regularly pop into a sensory deprivation float tank – Anicca Float Club, awesome place, and I can sit on my couch and do essentially absolutely nothing for hours (see Netflix, Ben and Jerry’s etc bullet points).  Picking up meditation again should be a cake walk.

My monkey mind has apparently been doing one arm pushups while I was distracted with my other important pursuits. My monkey mind, because even my monkey mind has to be more special than anyone else’s, flings feces, screeches, grooms, and scratches in the most Inappropriate places and at the most Inappropriate times.

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Ideal conditions – seen for approximately 3-4 nano seconds per week

On any given day my monkey  mind is having a party with several friends you wouldn’t consider introducing to your mother, like ever, and my panic monster is running around the room flapping its arms and screaming at the monkeys to calm the fuck down. The rational thinker part is generally sitting crossed legged in the corner focused on my smart phone screen and considering the best Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, Snapchat posts that would make me look the most clever, witty, intelligent and attractive.

And don’t forget my lofty journalling. I have made some profound insights in my beautiful hand made by a local artist with red and shiny gold bits on recycled paper.

Actual Profound Knowledge Quotes from my journal

  • my bed is super awesome!
  • well I sure fucked that up didn’t I?
  • hey, that think I fucked up? yep, did it again, but better this time
  • I think maybe I procrastinate more than the average bear
  • dammit* (*multiple entries also #dammit, because handwritten hash tagging is a thing, I think, maybe….)
  • people are not behaving, this is irritating
  • Party on Garth
  • Fuckity Fuck Fuckery with a side of Fuckstockings
  • My hair today, wtf? natural-hair-humidity-meme
  • meditation is irritating
  • why the fuck am I doing this to myself?
  • #dammit todo list!
  • developing good habits is a pain in the ass
  • Motherfucking Lord of Middle Aged women! What was I thinking?! ** (**personal fav)
  • 3 responsible things in 1 day – BOOM!
  • Donald Trump, no words
  • Why am I still awake?
  • I did my MF journal and mediation, so am actually a total boss today
  • I may or may not be able to move mañana
  • Spanish, ye gods! (see ** comment)
  • FIVE extra minutes of meditation – fist pump for me!
  • day 3 of not giving fucks about this, yah me.
  • I don’t wanna
  • I might not have approached that in the most mature manner
  • My dog and I have a few things in common it would seemdogs10
  • Do NOT Google ‘asshole yoga’ looking for funny yoga stories (see ** comment)
  • and now for MORE flung feces
  • confirmation bias is actually a thing, like whoa
  • Burning Man….. now there’s a thought

So12919897_1019903358084771_9205901722785851826_n yeah, I’m still figuring this stuff out. And that’s okay. I suppose…. mostly.