A few items of blog business

Poor little blog, I have been neglecting you. Not on purpose, but neglected you are. I come up with these witty blog posts in the middle of the night and promise myself I am going to remember them in the morning. I never do. (The post about my idea for the Donald Trump Hair Band is probably never going to get written -- sorry! It was hilarious though!) I suppose I should get a pen and paper and put it by my bed, so as to write down my good ideas. But I never do.

A few months back I prayed to have more things to do in my days. I just felt like I wasn't busy enough. Prayer answered. Now, I feel a bit too busy with all the things I seem to be into these past few weeks. It's ok though, to be busy. However, this morning we are taking a vacation from our problems (Bob) and our schedule (world). James is watching Looney Toons and I am blogging. After which I will fold the laundry and clean off my desk. Yes, I've accumulated another stack of "unsorted office items". Will those never go away?

As for Sunday and Sunday School. I was nervous about Sunday. I had been praying for guidance all week about what to say and what to do with our class. I came prepared for several different scenarios just in case. I was also feeling very alone. Very, terribly alone. I suppose I shouldn't make so big of a deal out of my church calling. But I do. Go all the way, or go home, or, you know, die trying. But walking into our building on Sunday morning, I felt very calm and very attended by the spirit. I knew everything would be ok. This is why the Holy Ghost is referred to as "the comforter"...a nice, warm, wrapping from heaven.

As fate and the bishop would have it, a remember of our bishopric decided to join us on Sunday. It was nice to have him in there, to have that authority. Because when he spoke, everybody listened. Also one of the boys handed me a little note of apology at the end of class. I'm going to save that one for a while -- to remind me to see these kids as the Lord sees me...a kid who is trying to learn. Because I'm a kid who is still trying to learn.

I dismissed the kids a few minutes early so I could talk with the bishopric member. "I guess our story made it up the grapevine?" "Yes, it did, and we're sorry that you've been in this spot." Honestly though, it's not that I felt I was 'in a spot', but rather, I felt I wasn't getting any support --- hello, Sunday School presidency? Hello? So we chatted quickly, I shared with him my concerns and somethings that I felt needed to be done in the Sunday School program. He wrote my suggestions down and said he'd share them with the bishop. Then he thanked me for not quitting.

I was never going to quit, but I can see why that thought might be thunk. Just another bump in the road was all.....we still have to keep going.

Speaking of keeping going....my physical therapy is going well. I met with a different therapist on Tuesday. He worked on my feet, did an ultra-sound massage and then hooked me up to the electrodes. Yes, more electricity! As he was setting up the machine, he kept asking me, "Do you feel this yet?" No -- No -- No. He had the instrument on 7 by the time I felt the first little twinges of current. He honestly kept asking, "Are you sure this does not hurt? I am pumping you full of current." Nope. I've come to the conclusion, thru this therapy process that I must have some insanely high pain tolerance. Or, I've just lost all the feeling my body and I'm souless.

Oh, and I'm going to get my new orthodics tomorrow. They've been there since Monday, but I have not had the desire to go down to Santa Fe with child in tow....so tomorrow, Friday, I will go. Joseph and James like to look at the rocks in front of the doctor's office, and I can have my appointment in relative peace.

There are a few good things swirling in my head for tomorrow or the next day....some of them do involve hair, but not Donald Trump.

My feet and brain

To answer the question that's been all of your heads since Monday night. I did survive the week. I hit an all time sudafed high on Tuesday -- not so fun and have been weaning my poor body off it since then. I'm hoping the room can stay put for a while.

But literally being on my back for the whole day gave me a lot of time to think about my feet. My poor, poor feet. Still not getting better. The electro-shock therapy did not work. The physical therapy is working, but that is a step by step process. Alternating shoes, and all the Dr Scholls in the world helps but not much. The last variable was the new orthodics. They simply did not fit right.

I hemmed and I hawed about going in. I was just there on Friday, why didn't I say something then? I know I'm a big mouth, but sometimes it's hard to advocate for yourself in the doctor's office. You don't want to be the hypochondriac, the sissy, the wimpy kid. AGK!

But I knew that was it, so I called and I went in yesterday. Poor James, he thought the appointment was for him, and promptly started to throw a colossal fit the second we walked into the exam room. I know Dr W. was a bit miffed as was the nurse, but what could I do? Some people have kids, and have to bring them to the appointments sometimes.

Upon looking at my new orthodics he said, "Well these are the kind we make for dress shoes, not for tennis shoes." GREAT NO ONE TOLD ME THAT! Anyway he took them back and is having them remade -- RIGHTLY I hope. If not, I'm going to give up, go home and have Uncle Cameron make me orthodics. I probably just should have done that in the first place. But anyway...

Today in therapy Sue gave me some new exercises to work on. The exercises feel great and are working. She also worked my feet hard. I am sore now -- really, really, really soar. But the cortisone is working! In the course of our conversation though, I figured out that she owns the dogs that attacked us on a walk 2 years ago. She said, "Oh, thanks for the $800 in court costs." What do you say back to that? Sorry, your dog almost killed me? Anyway....

Oh, and FYI....I'm writing a book. It's about The Bill of Rights. Laryssa has asked me to write it for her new publishing company. I'm going to do this, because it needs to be done, but who would have thought that 10 little Amendments would have so much behind them! I've really been dusting off my brain this week. There was a lot of dust in there!

Don't Rock the Boat: My First Physical Therapy Session

I've mentioned it before (HERE and HERE, I have trouble with plantar fascitis. I've switched doctors (good, gooder, gooderest) and have had some electro-shock therapy (meh, not so good). My new doctor, Dr. W the funny Jewish doctor, decided to send me to physical therapy. I had my first physical therapy session today. It was not as bad as I thought it was going to be. My therapist is Sue. I think we're going to be great pals. Seriously, I mean that. She complimented me on my choice of sensible foot wear, and my super cute lime green messenger purse. Thank you, I love lime green.

We started out with her asking me about eleventyty-hundred questions. She also did some strength tests on my legs and feet. Apparently my right side is stronger all around. That is only the first of my problems. Then she had me pace the floor of the workout room about 20 times. She called another therapist in and they both evaluated me. "Crazy!" and "I've never seen such a thing." came out of both of their mouths, multiple times.

It's what we've expectected all along. I have Titanic hips.



No really, my hips rock back and forth like the Titanic about to sink -- never mind their titanic size. I think it's my Grandma Pearl's genetic gift to me, and to all of us Brinton girls really. I always thought my left leg was longer than my right leg. At least it felt like that, but it's not. They are the same length, but the left hip rocks and swings wrong because my right foot and arch are so high. I always said that right arch was like the Golden Gate Bridge, now I know it is. Sue was pretty astonished at the height of the orthodic. Golden Gate Bridge is all I kept telling her.

So, she gave me some homework, exercises to strengthen my hips and abdomen. I think I'm still suffering from having Baby James, but let's be honest, I never had abs of steel before I carried and had him. Then she gave my tootsies a nice little massage. Seriously, I was so zen, I almost fell asleep. I felt sorry for the lady next to me, she was squawking like a jay-bird.

So, my new theme song is this:



Seriously, Don't Rock The Boat Baby! And if you feel like doing a mitzvah for me, please pray for my feet to get better so I can live my life again.