Beast of Burden

Okay, so. Last week I went in to have my ACL reconstructed and my Meniscus trimmed down due to the fact that I ripped them both OFF in Zumba class a few weeks ago.

My surgery was scheduled for 12:30, which in doctor speak means an hour later, so I couldn’t have anything to eat or drink for 8 hours before. Of course, I stayed up extra late and made waffles in a vain attempt to ensure that I wouldn’t be starving when my surgery rolled around. It totally didn’t work. My stomach sounded like a small grizzly bear it was growling so loud by the time I finally got wheeled into surgery.


So we get to the surgery center, I get the VERY latest in completely backless Hospital Couture, I climb into the bed and get a toasty warm blanket, and I take out my phone. To Tweet, of course!! I Tweeted pre-op observations &  selfies. Much to TWH’s horror. I don’t know what he thought I should have been doing but apparently, taking selfies wasn’t it.


Surgery goes fine & I come home. Not before the surprisingly strong TINY nurse lady tries to chuck me OVER the seat I’m trying to get into & situated in though. Seriously. I’m a big girl. I’m about 5’8 & weigh 190-ish. This chick was about half my size and just about threw me across the car!! Whatthehey-ull!?!!?


Anyway, I come home and my family’s time of indentured servitude begins.

They have to bring me EVERYDAMNTHING. I have a system with TB where I text him from my room to his if I need something. So far, his response time is pretty good. Miss A is here for a few weeks so she’s been piled up in bed with me watching stuff on Netflix. TWH has been exemplary in his care-taking of me & my friends have offered DAILY to bring/do stuff for me.


The thing is, I’m afraid I may get too overbearing. Like just now, I was cold & my jacket was across the room. I debated for a minute whether or not to text TB or just get up & get it myownself. I got up & got it but the fact that I thought about having TB come from the other end of the house to do it for me bothers me. I do NOT want to imperiously wave my hand and demand things. I DO want to be gracious and appreciative of EVERYTHING everyone does for me. I DO want to try & do everything I can for myself. I DON’T want to take advantage of my family. I DON’T want to turn into a demanding bitch who just plunks herself down & EXPECTS everything to be handed to her. I DON’T want to be “helpless”.  I know there are people out there who would consider this recuperation period their “Due”. That they would laugh and talk about how they hope  “Everyone gains a new appreciation for how much they do”. I’m not that person. I’m more frustrated by the fact that I can’t pull my weight. That I’m letting down my end of this partnership & asking my husband & children to pick up my slack. That I’m now part of their “Burden”. I certainly don’t want to make that worse by being a total bitch about it.


I could see it happening though. It’s a slippery slope. I’m sure it happens in increments. With something small, like a jacket.


I’m also pretty sure TWH would call “Bulshit” on that quick, fast, and in a hurry.  The man is The Wonder Hubby but even HE has his limits.


And I’m sure when I’m up & around again, I’ll hear all about how “It’s about time I got off my lazy ass & started helping out around here”.  The man thinks he’s funny.  And I will laugh along with him & happily unload the dishwasher.

Just to relieve his burden.


Living With Geeks

Okay, so. TWH & TB are both big ol’ Geeks.  I’m a Geek myownself, but they’re GEEEEEEEEEEKKKKKKSSSS!!!


Take tonight at dinner, for example.  TB is sitting there playing something on his phone when TWH looks over & asks him “What are you playing??”. TB responded “A game”. TWH then stated simply “That’s NOT a game”.  This annoyed TB & he promptly responded “Yes it IS!!”.


The conversation kind of got away from me after that with TWH demanding to know how it qualified as a game when TB couldn’t earn points or WIN & TB growling something about his game being a “Sandbox”.  Then there was some more conversation about the “game” while I longingly looked at the bar.  Then I think I blacked out for a little while.


When I came to, out food had arrived and I had a headache.


Living with Geeks is not for the weak-minded, the stupid, or sometimes… The Sober.


Down, But Not Out

Okay, so. The last few days on Twitter & FB, I’ve been whining about my bum knee. So here’s what happened…


Monday I’m in my Sentao Zumba class when we get to a part where we go from a seated position into a JOYOUS leap, then back to a seated position.  Well, I’d decided a few days before that I was only going to get out of these classes what I put into them so I was going to start lifting my knees higher, stretching farther, leaping more joyously.


Aaaaaannnndddd….. That’s exactly what I did.


Y’all, I jumped so high & with such joy. It was a beautiful thing to behold, really.


Then I came down.


That’s when it happened.


I heard/felt a giant POP, followed by an intense pain.  I dropped into my chair while clutching my left knee and maybe/maybe not saying swear words. (Probably FUCK. That seems to be my go-to stress/pain word)  I knew in that moment what I’d done.


I’d torn my ACL.  Mother. Fucker.


My Sprite of an instructor stopped the music & came over to ask if I was okay.  I knew I’d REALLY hurt myself but A) I hate being a spectacle and B) Sprite was so upset, I didn’t want her to freak out so I downplayed the whole thing.  I gathered my things & limped out to the waiting area so I could call TWH who, that day, had decided to drop me at the gym while he went to the supermarket & the groomers.  He was not happy.


He wasn’t happy because we’ve done all this before. I tore my ACL in my right knee years ago. That’s how I knew what I’d done. You don’t forget that. EVER.


So, I came home, put my leg up, & had a small pity party for myself. I sobbed my frustration out on TWH’s shoulder while wailing “It’s not fair!!” and “I’m gonna be fat FOREVER!!”. You know. like you do.


Then I stopped.  I slept on it. I woke up with a new mission. I’m down but not out.  I can still ride a stationary bike. I can still swim. I can still do the elliptical & lift weights.  I can still try to achieve a new level of fitness. I can still become healthier & stronger. This isn’t the end. I’m just changing course.


Life threw me a curve ball. Imma hit that bitch out of the park.




P.S.  I’ll be scheduling surgery for sometime next month. I’ll let everyone know when & ask for prayers & good ju-ju & stuff.