Two pounds that is. I haven't lost my mind-yet. I'm actually pretty excited because normally when I start working out I gain weight because I've been blessed with the ability to build muscle pretty quickly.
I have decided that I'm certainly not going to go looking for these two pounds. No search and rescue team for me. They can stay lost. I won't feel bad if they are scared, cold or hungry- no siree Bob!
Do you ever wonder why people say No Siree, Bob? Why Bob? I've often wondered who decided Bob was the best name for that phrase. Personally, I like No Siree, Chuck. That has a nice ring to it, wouldn't you say?
I wonder if people named Bob don't care for that phrase. I'll have to ask the next time I run across someone with the name, Bob.
So back to my weight loss extravaganza- The Stud Muffin (aka- my husband) and I have started biking every other day. We walk the dogs daily, and then add about a 3 mile bike ride to the mix every other day. I'm still wheezing and gasping like an asthmatic 4 minutes into the ride, but today I only had to stop once, and that's an improvement by about 4 stops! :)
I cannot believe how much the muscles in my lower body BURN from biking. I don't remember such pain when I was 10, 12, or 16, or 19- just not fair. Growing older does have its perks, but the pain in doing simple things like biking, or simple yard work, or cleaning- just not fair. I was supposed to have children by now to help with these painful activities.
I'm excited to see what the next few weeks bring as I bike to strengthen my legs, and my back so that I'll be able to handle the physical demands of Cosmetology School. Between my snazzy Shape-Ups by Sketchers and my snazzy bike by Schwinn, I should be looking sassy and foxy in no time! :)
Wednesday, July 28, 2010
Tuesday, July 27, 2010
♪♫ Beauty School Drop Out ♪♫
I figured my huge following of adoring fans might be missing my prose, so I felt it was time to make an entry on my sad little Nog.
Almost 20 years ago, I was kicked out of Beauty School. I wasn't given a reason, and at the time, was very naive to the world, and not used to mean or dishonest people, so those running the school scared me so effectively with their threats of never being able to get my license or attend another school ever again, stuck with me for almost two decades. I believed them. I allowed fear to keep me from doing what I believe is a calling on my life.
It got me to thinking- How many decisions do we make based on fear? And, as a result how many things have we missed out on because of that fear? I just spent the past 7,117+ days doing things that may not have been God's original will for me- making decisions based on what I thought was right for me or my family at the time, not based on what God said about it. I also wonder how many times we fail to include God in all of our decisions, big and small. I know I fail at that on a regular basis. I'm trying to ask God more and more on a regular basis if I am supposed to do something so that it can become a habit and so that I don't miss out on His best for me.
Alright, so back to my original reason for writing this entry. After almost 20 years, I decided to forget about the fear and the threats made my former Beauty School administrators, and enroll in Cosmetology School- and FINISH this time! :)
I am a little nervous about my back injury getting in the way, but I truly hope and pray that God will honor my decision to get out and live my life despite the back injury and its propensity to go out almost every 6 weeks. I pray He will honor my obedience to move on and do something and finish school even though it is a physically demanding occupation. The hubby and I bought some bicycles and I'm riding every other day, and walking the dogs daily as well, so that bit of movement should help me shed a few pounds, which will help my back as well as strengthen muscles needed to stand and do hair.
I have gotten to the point that after 6 years of making decisions based on whether or not something will hurt my back, that it is time to just do stuff and hope that God will honor that and the pain will not be debilitating, and that my healing will come.
I'm very excited about starting school in October. I am taking donations for my tuition and the black and white wardrobe I'll need for classes- :)
I'll need models and clients by the time Christmas rolls around, so feel free to contact me if you're interested. Also, think about some of the things I have mentioned- what fears are keeping you from becoming the person that God had in mind? What blessings are you missing out on because of your fears? Are there people in your past that have kept you from doing things you felt you were supposed to do in the future?
I think it's time to tell the devil and his minions of fear and intimidation, and insecurity to shove it! Don't you?
Almost 20 years ago, I was kicked out of Beauty School. I wasn't given a reason, and at the time, was very naive to the world, and not used to mean or dishonest people, so those running the school scared me so effectively with their threats of never being able to get my license or attend another school ever again, stuck with me for almost two decades. I believed them. I allowed fear to keep me from doing what I believe is a calling on my life.
It got me to thinking- How many decisions do we make based on fear? And, as a result how many things have we missed out on because of that fear? I just spent the past 7,117+ days doing things that may not have been God's original will for me- making decisions based on what I thought was right for me or my family at the time, not based on what God said about it. I also wonder how many times we fail to include God in all of our decisions, big and small. I know I fail at that on a regular basis. I'm trying to ask God more and more on a regular basis if I am supposed to do something so that it can become a habit and so that I don't miss out on His best for me.
Alright, so back to my original reason for writing this entry. After almost 20 years, I decided to forget about the fear and the threats made my former Beauty School administrators, and enroll in Cosmetology School- and FINISH this time! :)
I am a little nervous about my back injury getting in the way, but I truly hope and pray that God will honor my decision to get out and live my life despite the back injury and its propensity to go out almost every 6 weeks. I pray He will honor my obedience to move on and do something and finish school even though it is a physically demanding occupation. The hubby and I bought some bicycles and I'm riding every other day, and walking the dogs daily as well, so that bit of movement should help me shed a few pounds, which will help my back as well as strengthen muscles needed to stand and do hair.
I have gotten to the point that after 6 years of making decisions based on whether or not something will hurt my back, that it is time to just do stuff and hope that God will honor that and the pain will not be debilitating, and that my healing will come.
I'm very excited about starting school in October. I am taking donations for my tuition and the black and white wardrobe I'll need for classes- :)
I'll need models and clients by the time Christmas rolls around, so feel free to contact me if you're interested. Also, think about some of the things I have mentioned- what fears are keeping you from becoming the person that God had in mind? What blessings are you missing out on because of your fears? Are there people in your past that have kept you from doing things you felt you were supposed to do in the future?
I think it's time to tell the devil and his minions of fear and intimidation, and insecurity to shove it! Don't you?
Friday, July 2, 2010
Oh won't you take me to, Funky Town? ♪♫
Hello everybody!
I haven't posted in quite some time. I think I'm in a funk. I never seem to have things to say, nor do I even desire to talk when I'm in a funk- so funky must be where I'm at these days. I wish I was in the Funky Town from that 80's song- it sounds like more fun than the Funky place I'm at.
I have been walking every day (for the exception of a small handful of days due to extreme heat and humidity) in an effort to strengthen the lower half of my body. So far my snazzy new Sketchers shoes have toned my legs and toosh, and I'm pleased about that. Unfortunately, my back has decided that it is tired of playing nice and went out again yesterday. That, I am not pleased with.
I'm trying to figure out what I'm supposed to be learning through all of this. How am I supposed to find employment, or go to school full time if I can't even live a normal life for more than 2 to 4 weeks without my back going out? I'm mentally worn out.
I have started reading "Breaking Free" by Beth Moore. I'm memorizing scripture (one passage so far) per her request while I read the book. I like the book so far. I'm learning more about God and the Bible, but it isn't getting to my heart...it's just all head knowledge.
Part of my funk makes the desire to do anything, including reading hard, so I have to make myself do things. I'm much better at making other people do things. :) I should practice my persuasion skills on myself. The problem is I know what I'm doing- so I cannot fool myself. I would be finished with that book if I wasn't in such a funk. I'm not depressed, I'm in a funk. I refuse to get depressed, but it is obvious I'm fine on some level with being in a funk. Which is somewhat contradictory- I'm going to have to explore why that is acceptable to me.
I read a devotional today that said to help me with my pain I should get out and help people. I will admit that helping anyone has not been something I've desired to do. In fact, I've pretty much built a nice little world for myself since losing my job in March where no one can come in and hurt me, betray me, lie to me, throw me under a bus, use me, walk on me, abuse me, persecute me, or just plain take advantage of me. Just what Satan wants, but not what God wants. My issue is I don't know where to help because the thought of helping someone else when I can't even seem to help myself isn't appealing to be brutally honest.
I am not sure I have the mental and emotional energy. People seem to wear me out lately. Heck, life is wearing me out...that is so pathetic that it makes me sad. :(
I recently shared with a friend that I was afraid to have friends, or be a friend, or get involved in activities with other women because I am tired of getting hurt. I didn't know just how tired I was of being hurt by people over the years until I lost my job this year. I also didn't realize just how angry I was deep down from turning the other cheek from all my past hurts over my life, until I lost my job. I have had to ask God to help me deal with and free me from my anger and my hurts. I have SERIOUS trust issues as a result from my termination, and I am certain it is all a part of my funk. I want to trust people, yet at the same time, I don't. People are mean. I never, ever thought I would say or believe that.
Normally I like funky. :) Not funky smells, or being in a funk, but funky things, funky colors, funky people or songs. Those make life interesting. I wish they sold maps that could help you get out of Funky-ville. I think Rand McNally would make a killing if they had maps of Funky-ville. Think of all the drugs people wouldn't have to take, and all the money spent on therapy that could be spent on something else if we just had a map of the darn place with a clear idea of how to get out of there.
I am somewhat hoping that getting this out there and off my chest will be cathartic in some fashion. It is hard to admit I'm afraid to have friends and do things with or for other people. It's sad that I've lost my faith and trust in people...maybe I need a map for that, too. Maybe I should set out on an adventure to find that faith and trust...like a buried treasure. I'm know that we aren't to put our trust or faith in people, only in God, but to an extent I believe we have to trust people and have faith in them- I'm just not sure why.
Well, this has been a rather gloomy post, eh? Wow I need to watch stand up comedy and take some St. John's wort before I have all of you in a funk, too. :)
...
I haven't posted in quite some time. I think I'm in a funk. I never seem to have things to say, nor do I even desire to talk when I'm in a funk- so funky must be where I'm at these days. I wish I was in the Funky Town from that 80's song- it sounds like more fun than the Funky place I'm at.
I have been walking every day (for the exception of a small handful of days due to extreme heat and humidity) in an effort to strengthen the lower half of my body. So far my snazzy new Sketchers shoes have toned my legs and toosh, and I'm pleased about that. Unfortunately, my back has decided that it is tired of playing nice and went out again yesterday. That, I am not pleased with.
I'm trying to figure out what I'm supposed to be learning through all of this. How am I supposed to find employment, or go to school full time if I can't even live a normal life for more than 2 to 4 weeks without my back going out? I'm mentally worn out.
I have started reading "Breaking Free" by Beth Moore. I'm memorizing scripture (one passage so far) per her request while I read the book. I like the book so far. I'm learning more about God and the Bible, but it isn't getting to my heart...it's just all head knowledge.
Part of my funk makes the desire to do anything, including reading hard, so I have to make myself do things. I'm much better at making other people do things. :) I should practice my persuasion skills on myself. The problem is I know what I'm doing- so I cannot fool myself. I would be finished with that book if I wasn't in such a funk. I'm not depressed, I'm in a funk. I refuse to get depressed, but it is obvious I'm fine on some level with being in a funk. Which is somewhat contradictory- I'm going to have to explore why that is acceptable to me.
I read a devotional today that said to help me with my pain I should get out and help people. I will admit that helping anyone has not been something I've desired to do. In fact, I've pretty much built a nice little world for myself since losing my job in March where no one can come in and hurt me, betray me, lie to me, throw me under a bus, use me, walk on me, abuse me, persecute me, or just plain take advantage of me. Just what Satan wants, but not what God wants. My issue is I don't know where to help because the thought of helping someone else when I can't even seem to help myself isn't appealing to be brutally honest.
I am not sure I have the mental and emotional energy. People seem to wear me out lately. Heck, life is wearing me out...that is so pathetic that it makes me sad. :(
I recently shared with a friend that I was afraid to have friends, or be a friend, or get involved in activities with other women because I am tired of getting hurt. I didn't know just how tired I was of being hurt by people over the years until I lost my job this year. I also didn't realize just how angry I was deep down from turning the other cheek from all my past hurts over my life, until I lost my job. I have had to ask God to help me deal with and free me from my anger and my hurts. I have SERIOUS trust issues as a result from my termination, and I am certain it is all a part of my funk. I want to trust people, yet at the same time, I don't. People are mean. I never, ever thought I would say or believe that.
Normally I like funky. :) Not funky smells, or being in a funk, but funky things, funky colors, funky people or songs. Those make life interesting. I wish they sold maps that could help you get out of Funky-ville. I think Rand McNally would make a killing if they had maps of Funky-ville. Think of all the drugs people wouldn't have to take, and all the money spent on therapy that could be spent on something else if we just had a map of the darn place with a clear idea of how to get out of there.
I am somewhat hoping that getting this out there and off my chest will be cathartic in some fashion. It is hard to admit I'm afraid to have friends and do things with or for other people. It's sad that I've lost my faith and trust in people...maybe I need a map for that, too. Maybe I should set out on an adventure to find that faith and trust...like a buried treasure. I'm know that we aren't to put our trust or faith in people, only in God, but to an extent I believe we have to trust people and have faith in them- I'm just not sure why.
Well, this has been a rather gloomy post, eh? Wow I need to watch stand up comedy and take some St. John's wort before I have all of you in a funk, too. :)
...
Friday, June 4, 2010
...Oh how I love thee!
There are three things I love more than anything in this world.
Oops, I also love my husband, so let me start over...
Um, this is embarrassing. So sorry babe, I meant to say:
My husband volunteers full time at a ministry where their mission is to help the homeless- and by help, I mean show them the love of Jesus, and when they are ready, give them a home to live in, food, clothing, and a chance to seek work, and get back into society. They felt led to fast for 3 days and be in prayer over some major things.
I decided that if the hubby couldn't eat, it didn't seem fair for me to be noshing in front of him, so I decided that I would join him. I want deliverance from my addiction to candy- I LOVE candy. I know, I know, "Then why didn't you list it up above, Kacey?"...well, because it's not in my top 4 anymore.
I just went almost 4 whole days without eating any candy, and I didn't think about it once. I used to think about it more than a guy thinks about nookie throughout a 24 hour period, and that's a lot. Like, every 7 seconds or something along those lines. Wait- I'm sorry, but if that research is accurate, and men really do think about sex every 7 seconds, HOW in the heck can they get anything else done?
Can you imagine your husband as the POTUS (President of the United States) preparing for a speech... it may go something like this: My fellow Americans. Today we embark on- "Ooo look, I can see her boobies", er, excuse me. Ahem, as I was saying, today we embark on a new beginning- "Yeah, baby... I like the red one- Whoo-hoo..." oops, sorry about that. Now, where was I? Oh, yes- the bedroom or the kitchen table... Oh My Gosh- I'm sorry, but the Vice President is going to have to finish my speech, I am not feeling well and (WOW- look at that toosh, Mmmmm lady buns....) (POTUS runs from room screaming and jumps into cold shower fully clothed), while the (female) VP steps in and makes an amazing and historic speech. (Because she can go more than 7 seconds before thinking about what men supposedly think about 12,343 times in one 24 hour period).
See what I mean? If I thought about something that many times in one day, I'd go insane. There must be some sort of Teflon in the brain of all men to keep them from going insane thinking about nookie over 12,000 times per day, so I am starting to think the research is faulty. Either that or men CAN really multi-task and have snookered us into believing that they can't so we do more work around the house and they get to watch 18 hours of non-stop sports on TV, AND control the remote. Pretty sneaky men... I'm onto you. It's either that or you're all closet Super-hero's and are hiding your powers from us. Regardless, I've got your number! HA!
Okay, so back to my fast. I fasted to support my hubby and also for deliverance from my candy cravings. I'd like complete deliverance from sugar all together, but I'm not giving up lemon bars OR Sweet Tea, so candy will have to take the fall.
Fasting wasn't as hard as I thought it was going to be. I didn't think about food all that much, and my stomach only bothered me a few times, and I told it to quiet down, or I'd add another day to the Fast, and it obeyed. Wish I could use Jedi mind tricks like that on my banker... "This is the account with $500,000.00 in it!" "You must have a computer glitch!"... but, I digress.
I was concerned I wouldn't be able to fast because of my hormone and insulin conditions, but then I had a revelation. I have IBS, so I unknowingly, and unintentionally fasted almost all the time. There were times when the only thing I could keep down for a week at a time was Gatorade and/or chicken broth, so if I could live off that during times of terrible digestive distress, then not eating on purpose for 3 days should be a piece of cake, right? Right! I didn't have dinner Monday night, nor did I snack before bed, so that's why I say I went 3.5 days.
I believe that God honored my desire to be free from the bondage of gummi bears from Germany, and lemon heads and milk duds, junior mints, Willy Wonka taffy... when I stepped out in faith to support John, and also prayed with him to be delivered from candy. That excites me. Now I'm going to Fast in the next couple of weeks over where I am supposed to go next- as in for school and a job. More on that next month, or later this month.
So, my husband and two of his co-workers were meeting this morning at 6:00 am for breakfast at Perkins- to break the fast. John had to leave a little before 5:30 in order to meet Dave and Pete for their pancake, sausage, bacon, egg, hash browns, toast and coffee extravaganza. Since Honor rarely sleeps more than 6 hours a night, he was up and ready for play at 5:00 am.
I decided once John left to break out the THICK cut, No Name Bacon- my honey buckwheat pancake mix, and some eggs... If I timed it just right, I'd be eating before those boys were sipping on their coffee, and long before Flo the waitress was delivering their plates of greasy Perkins food. See, this fast did not happen without lots of teasing about "cheeseburgers", etc- nothing like torturing your fellow brother or sister in Christ, by talking about food during a fast...but I digress.
So here is what I sent those boys as they were sitting in their booth, waiting for their food to come out-
Please excuse the chip in my porcelain sink, and the clear grout that is peeling off... I should have put the plate on a more attractive part of my homage to the 80's kitchen counter.
Yes, friends, you see BACON! My first love, I mean my second- um, THIRD- yes, my third love. Bacon...extra limp. The way my Austrian Grandfather likes it, and he's passed it down to me. Ya just knock the oink out of it, and it's heaven on a plate.
I don't like eggs, but felt I should have some additional protein, so it was hard to eat the eggs, but I make halfway decent eggs, so I washed it down with the two honey buckwheat pancakes and they were so good.
It's amazing how good food tasted this morning. I've gone longer without food because of illness, or episodes of digestive tyranny against my body but food never tasted this good when I was finally able to eat again. However, this morning I think it was quite possibly the best bacon, pancakes and eggs I've ever had. :)
If you have never fasted, I suggest it. Not because it makes bacon taste better than it already does, but because it's amazing how peaceful and calm I was during that time. It was also cool that I didn't think about candy, and knew that God was working in me during that time and the Spirit was upon me, keeping me calm, safe and at peace. If there is something in your life that you "love" more than you should, like me with candy- pray about it, and fast for a few days, you don't have to do a food fast, you could fast from the thing you are addicted to- like TV, the computer, your cell phone... Or just fast from food regarding those things.
It is pretty cool how something I was so afraid to do, and didn't think I could do- wasn't all that hard. Especially when I realized that with my stomach issues, I was probably fasting every 6 weeks or so and didn't even realize it.
This entry is a little all over the place, with no real point to it, but I am tired, and even though I did have an amazing breakfast, I think I'm still a little brain foggy at the present time. So, enjoy my random, semi-meaningless, unorganized babble, and festive collection of clip art and Science Fiction movie references. And Praise God with me that I am not craving a bag of mini Snickers! :)
Love ya all!
KC
- God
- Bacon
- Cinnabons
Oops, I also love my husband, so let me start over...
- God
- Bacon
- Hubby
- Cinnabons
Um, this is embarrassing. So sorry babe, I meant to say:
- God
- Hubby
- Bacon
- Cinnabons.
My husband volunteers full time at a ministry where their mission is to help the homeless- and by help, I mean show them the love of Jesus, and when they are ready, give them a home to live in, food, clothing, and a chance to seek work, and get back into society. They felt led to fast for 3 days and be in prayer over some major things.
I decided that if the hubby couldn't eat, it didn't seem fair for me to be noshing in front of him, so I decided that I would join him. I want deliverance from my addiction to candy- I LOVE candy. I know, I know, "Then why didn't you list it up above, Kacey?"...well, because it's not in my top 4 anymore.
I just went almost 4 whole days without eating any candy, and I didn't think about it once. I used to think about it more than a guy thinks about nookie throughout a 24 hour period, and that's a lot. Like, every 7 seconds or something along those lines. Wait- I'm sorry, but if that research is accurate, and men really do think about sex every 7 seconds, HOW in the heck can they get anything else done?
Can you imagine your husband as the POTUS (President of the United States) preparing for a speech... it may go something like this: My fellow Americans. Today we embark on- "Ooo look, I can see her boobies", er, excuse me. Ahem, as I was saying, today we embark on a new beginning- "Yeah, baby... I like the red one- Whoo-hoo..." oops, sorry about that. Now, where was I? Oh, yes- the bedroom or the kitchen table... Oh My Gosh- I'm sorry, but the Vice President is going to have to finish my speech, I am not feeling well and (WOW- look at that toosh, Mmmmm lady buns....) (POTUS runs from room screaming and jumps into cold shower fully clothed), while the (female) VP steps in and makes an amazing and historic speech. (Because she can go more than 7 seconds before thinking about what men supposedly think about 12,343 times in one 24 hour period).
See what I mean? If I thought about something that many times in one day, I'd go insane. There must be some sort of Teflon in the brain of all men to keep them from going insane thinking about nookie over 12,000 times per day, so I am starting to think the research is faulty. Either that or men CAN really multi-task and have snookered us into believing that they can't so we do more work around the house and they get to watch 18 hours of non-stop sports on TV, AND control the remote. Pretty sneaky men... I'm onto you. It's either that or you're all closet Super-hero's and are hiding your powers from us. Regardless, I've got your number! HA!
Okay, so back to my fast. I fasted to support my hubby and also for deliverance from my candy cravings. I'd like complete deliverance from sugar all together, but I'm not giving up lemon bars OR Sweet Tea, so candy will have to take the fall.
Fasting wasn't as hard as I thought it was going to be. I didn't think about food all that much, and my stomach only bothered me a few times, and I told it to quiet down, or I'd add another day to the Fast, and it obeyed. Wish I could use Jedi mind tricks like that on my banker... "This is the account with $500,000.00 in it!" "You must have a computer glitch!"... but, I digress.
I was concerned I wouldn't be able to fast because of my hormone and insulin conditions, but then I had a revelation. I have IBS, so I unknowingly, and unintentionally fasted almost all the time. There were times when the only thing I could keep down for a week at a time was Gatorade and/or chicken broth, so if I could live off that during times of terrible digestive distress, then not eating on purpose for 3 days should be a piece of cake, right? Right! I didn't have dinner Monday night, nor did I snack before bed, so that's why I say I went 3.5 days.
I believe that God honored my desire to be free from the bondage of gummi bears from Germany, and lemon heads and milk duds, junior mints, Willy Wonka taffy... when I stepped out in faith to support John, and also prayed with him to be delivered from candy. That excites me. Now I'm going to Fast in the next couple of weeks over where I am supposed to go next- as in for school and a job. More on that next month, or later this month.
So, my husband and two of his co-workers were meeting this morning at 6:00 am for breakfast at Perkins- to break the fast. John had to leave a little before 5:30 in order to meet Dave and Pete for their pancake, sausage, bacon, egg, hash browns, toast and coffee extravaganza. Since Honor rarely sleeps more than 6 hours a night, he was up and ready for play at 5:00 am.
I decided once John left to break out the THICK cut, No Name Bacon- my honey buckwheat pancake mix, and some eggs... If I timed it just right, I'd be eating before those boys were sipping on their coffee, and long before Flo the waitress was delivering their plates of greasy Perkins food. See, this fast did not happen without lots of teasing about "cheeseburgers", etc- nothing like torturing your fellow brother or sister in Christ, by talking about food during a fast...but I digress.
So here is what I sent those boys as they were sitting in their booth, waiting for their food to come out-
Please excuse the chip in my porcelain sink, and the clear grout that is peeling off... I should have put the plate on a more attractive part of my homage to the 80's kitchen counter.
Yes, friends, you see BACON! My first love, I mean my second- um, THIRD- yes, my third love. Bacon...extra limp. The way my Austrian Grandfather likes it, and he's passed it down to me. Ya just knock the oink out of it, and it's heaven on a plate.
I don't like eggs, but felt I should have some additional protein, so it was hard to eat the eggs, but I make halfway decent eggs, so I washed it down with the two honey buckwheat pancakes and they were so good.
It's amazing how good food tasted this morning. I've gone longer without food because of illness, or episodes of digestive tyranny against my body but food never tasted this good when I was finally able to eat again. However, this morning I think it was quite possibly the best bacon, pancakes and eggs I've ever had. :)
If you have never fasted, I suggest it. Not because it makes bacon taste better than it already does, but because it's amazing how peaceful and calm I was during that time. It was also cool that I didn't think about candy, and knew that God was working in me during that time and the Spirit was upon me, keeping me calm, safe and at peace. If there is something in your life that you "love" more than you should, like me with candy- pray about it, and fast for a few days, you don't have to do a food fast, you could fast from the thing you are addicted to- like TV, the computer, your cell phone... Or just fast from food regarding those things.
It is pretty cool how something I was so afraid to do, and didn't think I could do- wasn't all that hard. Especially when I realized that with my stomach issues, I was probably fasting every 6 weeks or so and didn't even realize it.
This entry is a little all over the place, with no real point to it, but I am tired, and even though I did have an amazing breakfast, I think I'm still a little brain foggy at the present time. So, enjoy my random, semi-meaningless, unorganized babble, and festive collection of clip art and Science Fiction movie references. And Praise God with me that I am not craving a bag of mini Snickers! :)
Love ya all!
KC
Thursday, May 20, 2010
Getting my smarts on.
Today, well, actually about a week ago, I felt I should start playing chess again. Chess is a great game. During the 6 years that I have been dealing with my back injury, I've been given quite a few medications from many doctors- all treating me together, but not really communicating with one another. I swear some of those medications should never have been mixed, but since I'm about 8 years short of a PhD, who am I to question.
What I do know is that those pills make me stupid. No, I'm serious- short term memory issues, heck, 20 second memory issues... hearing issues, and each time my back goes out, and the meds come back into the picture, I forget more and more of my past and how to do things I used to be good at. Chess was one of them. Playing the flute, and reading music are two others, and the latter has me rather sad- but that's another post for another time.
So, I broke out the pre-installed chess game that came with my snazzy Microsoft Office 7 on the laptop, and found out I remembered nothing except how far, and in which direction I can move my own pawn. That's it. I was pretty bummed because John and I used to play chess together- I even have my own board made of maple and cherry- it's very pretty. Anyway, I was sad, because here was an example of something I was pretty good at, really enjoyed, and I'd forgotten 99% of everything about the game.
I went online and found a free download, that gave me 60 minutes of free playing time before I had to buy it if I wanted it permanently. I started the tutorial right away.
I wanted to familiarize myself with each piece, it's role in this checkered army, and where each piece could move, how it captured, and which moves were legal. I must say, I learned things I didn't know before, and then my free 60 minutes was up, and I was only half way through the tutorial. Argh!!
Well, I bought the game, and made a snazzy spreadsheet of a chessboard (Yes, being unemployed, I actually miss making spreadsheets) along with basic rules and what each piece does. I played a couple of games today against a monkey- no seriously...the lowest level of the game I bought had the avatar of a Monkey. That primate kicked my butt.
I'm hoping that re-learning to play chess will help my brain get back what the drugs have weakened and that I can start to feel smart again. Plus, I'm certain improving my brain power will help me in daily activities and also once I start school in the fall/winter of this year. I realize there isn't anything particularly special about this post. I'm merely informing my meager, yet amazing 7 followers that I'm trying to restore my brain to the pre-narcotic and pre-steroid days (all doctor prescribed) and that I find Chess fascinating. I wonder if my dad knew how to play?
On a completely unrelated note, I do love my new magic shoes. They make walking almost effortless, and really help me stand up straight. I do feel the burn when I use them, but compared to regular tennis shoes, these things are amazing, and I believe they are helping to further increase my strength and bring healing to my back much faster, than if I just kept my regular tennis shoes. That makes me happy. I still have pain, but I sense the healing taking root.
Have a blessed night everyone!
KC
What I do know is that those pills make me stupid. No, I'm serious- short term memory issues, heck, 20 second memory issues... hearing issues, and each time my back goes out, and the meds come back into the picture, I forget more and more of my past and how to do things I used to be good at. Chess was one of them. Playing the flute, and reading music are two others, and the latter has me rather sad- but that's another post for another time.
So, I broke out the pre-installed chess game that came with my snazzy Microsoft Office 7 on the laptop, and found out I remembered nothing except how far, and in which direction I can move my own pawn. That's it. I was pretty bummed because John and I used to play chess together- I even have my own board made of maple and cherry- it's very pretty. Anyway, I was sad, because here was an example of something I was pretty good at, really enjoyed, and I'd forgotten 99% of everything about the game.
I went online and found a free download, that gave me 60 minutes of free playing time before I had to buy it if I wanted it permanently. I started the tutorial right away.
I wanted to familiarize myself with each piece, it's role in this checkered army, and where each piece could move, how it captured, and which moves were legal. I must say, I learned things I didn't know before, and then my free 60 minutes was up, and I was only half way through the tutorial. Argh!!
Well, I bought the game, and made a snazzy spreadsheet of a chessboard (Yes, being unemployed, I actually miss making spreadsheets) along with basic rules and what each piece does. I played a couple of games today against a monkey- no seriously...the lowest level of the game I bought had the avatar of a Monkey. That primate kicked my butt.
I'm hoping that re-learning to play chess will help my brain get back what the drugs have weakened and that I can start to feel smart again. Plus, I'm certain improving my brain power will help me in daily activities and also once I start school in the fall/winter of this year. I realize there isn't anything particularly special about this post. I'm merely informing my meager, yet amazing 7 followers that I'm trying to restore my brain to the pre-narcotic and pre-steroid days (all doctor prescribed) and that I find Chess fascinating. I wonder if my dad knew how to play?
On a completely unrelated note, I do love my new magic shoes. They make walking almost effortless, and really help me stand up straight. I do feel the burn when I use them, but compared to regular tennis shoes, these things are amazing, and I believe they are helping to further increase my strength and bring healing to my back much faster, than if I just kept my regular tennis shoes. That makes me happy. I still have pain, but I sense the healing taking root.
Have a blessed night everyone!
KC
Tuesday, May 18, 2010
An Ode to Cilantro
Anyone that knows me fairly well, knows that I cannot stand cilantro. I can handle it in small doses, as in two leaves per quart of Salsa...but for some reason, that herb and I are not compatible. I also don't like dill or capers, but so far I've not written any poems or prose pertaining to those items.
I wrote this Ode in March of 2008 on or around the time that the Next Food Network Star reality show was airing. I understand that generally an ode is a praise of something or someone, however "The Slamming of Cilantro" didn't sound right, so its an ode- a very loose ode. :)
Enjoy my Ode...and have a good night. :)
Cilantro, Cilantro so green and so leafy
To others you look like a cousin of Parsley
Your taste is so strong
Like pot in a bong
And I've tried really hard to like you...
I went to Chipotle
Because it is Friday
And ordered a chicken burrito-
With cilantro lime rice and little black beans
Your flavor is truly not what it seems
I dissected my meal
and I thought "what's the deal?"
And was saddened by what I discovered.
So many flecks of your green leafiness
Had invaded my Mexican supper.
So I picked and I tossed every green piece I saw
so my burrito is now without flaw.
One final note, which I feel I must make
Oh, why can't you just taste like CAKE!?!?!
Okay, I'm officially signing out for the evening. I think I've done enough creative works for the day.
I wrote this Ode in March of 2008 on or around the time that the Next Food Network Star reality show was airing. I understand that generally an ode is a praise of something or someone, however "The Slamming of Cilantro" didn't sound right, so its an ode- a very loose ode. :)
Enjoy my Ode...and have a good night. :)
Cilantro, Cilantro so green and so leafy
To others you look like a cousin of Parsley
Your taste is so strong
Like pot in a bong
And I've tried really hard to like you...
I went to Chipotle
Because it is Friday
And ordered a chicken burrito-
With cilantro lime rice and little black beans
Your flavor is truly not what it seems
I dissected my meal
and I thought "what's the deal?"
And was saddened by what I discovered.
So many flecks of your green leafiness
Had invaded my Mexican supper.
So I picked and I tossed every green piece I saw
so my burrito is now without flaw.
One final note, which I feel I must make
Oh, why can't you just taste like CAKE!?!?!
Okay, I'm officially signing out for the evening. I think I've done enough creative works for the day.
An Ode to Twinkies
I actually wrote this in January of 2009- but felt like sharing it tonight. I feel like I've gone through a lot of losses lately, and back in January of last year I learned that Twinkies were made with an ingredient that I've banned from my diet for both personal and health reasons.
Here is my Ode: (It starts out with a little introduction- this was posted on an online forum for "chefs" that I belong to)
I just found out that Twinkies are evil, and I cannot eat them anymore. Because I have recently fallen in love with the mini-twinkies that come in a 100 calorie snack pack, I was very sad to learn that they are basically one molecule away from being a plastic.
I decided to put my feelings down in black and white in hopes to work through my grief, and I wanted to share it with all of you.
Ode to Twinkies- by Kacey~
Twinkies, Twinkies, spongy cake,
Life without you makes my heart break.
Your creamy center is so delicious,
How can you NOT be more nutritious?
In all your golden sponge-cake splendor,
Your trans-fats do a plastic render
You clog our veins with edible sludge
Healthier than you is a pound of fudge!
I fell in love with you at first bite,
But my doctor says eating you isn't right.
Hydrogenated oils are not my friend,
So my relationship with you is near its end.
I will delight in your spongy goodness one more time,
And think fondly upon the fact that you once were mine.
Love,
Kacey/Kristine
Here is my Ode: (It starts out with a little introduction- this was posted on an online forum for "chefs" that I belong to)
I just found out that Twinkies are evil, and I cannot eat them anymore. Because I have recently fallen in love with the mini-twinkies that come in a 100 calorie snack pack, I was very sad to learn that they are basically one molecule away from being a plastic.
I decided to put my feelings down in black and white in hopes to work through my grief, and I wanted to share it with all of you.
Ode to Twinkies- by Kacey~
Twinkies, Twinkies, spongy cake,
Life without you makes my heart break.
Your creamy center is so delicious,
How can you NOT be more nutritious?
In all your golden sponge-cake splendor,
Your trans-fats do a plastic render
You clog our veins with edible sludge
Healthier than you is a pound of fudge!
I fell in love with you at first bite,
But my doctor says eating you isn't right.
Hydrogenated oils are not my friend,
So my relationship with you is near its end.
I will delight in your spongy goodness one more time,
And think fondly upon the fact that you once were mine.
Love,
Kacey/Kristine
Ninja Granny's and the YMCA...
Well, I just got back from my first water aerobics therapy class at the YMCA. I only cried 3 times, but I think only the instructor noticed. I was the youngest by about 25 years, and the slowest by far. To the inventor of truly waterproof mascara- I salute you. To the doctor that felt doing this without pain medication of any type was a good idea- Be happy I don't believe in Voodoo Retribution any more...
So, my experience at the YMCA today had to be Nogged about, and I felt it should be done with a song. Yes, I wrote a song about what water aerobics with the grandma's was like. It must be sung to the tune of "Grandma Got Ran Over by a Reindeer". I'm sorry- but the other tune I had in my head was the Star Spangled Banner, and I had a heck of a time coming up with the right words to that tune...
Please enjoy my interpretive song of my perception of my experience at the "Y" today.
I just got run over by some grannies,
In the pool at my YMCA
They cruised past me faster than a cheetah
I almost drowned, but now think I'm OK.
These grannies look completely harmless,
But under flowered bathing suits I know-
That they're really water ninjas
And to kill me will only take just one quick blow!
If you find me floating in the deep end
It's cause I moved too slowly for dear Maude
Water Aerobics training isn't easy,
These grannies are out to get me, Help me God!
Don't let the smiles fool you...I'm telling you- they are cold hearted, speed water demons with dentures!
So, my experience at the YMCA today had to be Nogged about, and I felt it should be done with a song. Yes, I wrote a song about what water aerobics with the grandma's was like. It must be sung to the tune of "Grandma Got Ran Over by a Reindeer". I'm sorry- but the other tune I had in my head was the Star Spangled Banner, and I had a heck of a time coming up with the right words to that tune...
Please enjoy my interpretive song of my perception of my experience at the "Y" today.
I just got run over by some grannies,
In the pool at my YMCA
They cruised past me faster than a cheetah
I almost drowned, but now think I'm OK.
These grannies look completely harmless,
But under flowered bathing suits I know-
That they're really water ninjas
And to kill me will only take just one quick blow!
If you find me floating in the deep end
It's cause I moved too slowly for dear Maude
Water Aerobics training isn't easy,
These grannies are out to get me, Help me God!
Don't let the smiles fool you...I'm telling you- they are cold hearted, speed water demons with dentures!
Just a bunch of random things I feel like sharing...
Once my brain gets full again with strange thoughts and such, I'll empty it again. Thanks for reading.
- When I was little I wanted to own a bakery
- When I was little I wanted to be a cop
- When I was little I wanted to be a paramedic
- When I was little, I wanted to be Lucy from The Peanuts, and give people Psychiatric advice for $0.05.
- When I was little, my dad died. 11 days before my 2nd birthday to be exact. I think I miss him, but I'm not sure- how do you miss someone you never got to really know? I dream about him, wonder about him, have quite a few of his personality traits...and one or two of his faults. I wonder if it is just the idea of him not being here that I miss more than actually just missing him.
- I love classical music. My favorite song is Marche Slave Op. 31 by Tchaikovsky. My love of classical music came from my grandfather on my mother's side. When we would visit my grandparents, my grandpa would come home from his job at the post office, have a drink, and listen to classical music, and close his eyes, sip his drink, and then when his glass was empty, we'd have dinner. For some reason this song touches my soul, so I've included the link. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oy-bDe6PBp0&feature=related
- I'm allergic to watermelon. I wasn't always. I learned about this one summer shortly after being married. My throat started to swell and I got hives in my mouth. I miss watermelon. But not as much as I miss my father.
- My best friend died when I was 15- it was my father's dad. My grandpa. He was the kindest and most wisest man I knew. I married my husband because I saw deep inside the traits of my grandfather in him- but God was still molding the clay of my husband's life...
- I like boy cut panties.
- I have two chins
- I have hair on my chins from having to take testosterone. I hated HRT... no one in their early 30's should ever have to take their hormones in a form of a pill and creams. It would just be nice if your body made them like they should.
- I have two stomachs...but it is only noticeable when my jeans are too tight, or when I'm sitting in the tub. I could be bronzed and no one would know I wasn't a Buddha statue...well- except my eyes aren't shaped like his, and I do have a great head of hair.
- I have great hair. I always have.
- I have green eyes. People keep telling me they are hazel. So I looked up the word Hazel in the dictionary...and, my eyes are green.
- I love Grape Kool-aid
- Sometimes I drink the Kool-aid
- I love standing up for the underdog and wish I could go after every bad person, company, boss, ruler, parent, you name it, and fight for justice and truth and fix all the wrongs.
- I have an over exaggerated sense of justice- think I'm teasing? See the above statement.
- I am a fixer by nature.
- I have asked God to give me lightening bolt powers. So far, He's declined. I may start a petition...
- I have Harry Potter's wand. It doesn't work. Yes, I was actually hoping it would when I took it out of its packaging. I have some justice to attend to... kidding, I'll let God take care of it.
- I am amazing- and I'm not saying that in a narcissistic way. I mean that as a tribute to God who created me.
- I feel I have more masculine personality traits than I do feminine, yet I wear my heart on my sleeve like a woman.
- I like three-quarter length sleeves.
- I'm stubborn- it's the Irish in me.
- I'm obstinate- it's the German in me
- I'm a fighter- it's the Austrian in me
- I like nice things, It's the English in me... Now, where did I put that tiara?
- I'm adorably cute- I will give credit where credit is due, my parents were both good looking. Thank you, Lord!
- I feel like my work here on earth is not yet done-
- I feel like I have something to save or fix that is big- it may actually be very small by definition but he repercussions will be very big- like they'll snowball for generations- in a good way.
- I feel like I'm constantly at odds with myself. Every personality test I take shows that my two strongest characteristics are ones that are opposites on the spectrum, and don't normally go together/or contradict one another.
- I like white tennis shoes with baby blue, or lavender trim.
- I want to be a chef
- I want to be a Criminal Psychologist
- I want to learn Karate and some day hope to bust a hunk of wood with my foot.
- I need to be more disciplined
- I love Cinnabons, and cannot eat one unless I have another tub of extra frosting on it.
- I also need to learn moderation
- I love fast cars
- I would love to be a mechanic
- I've always wanted larger breasts-
- I want a tattoo, and will get one once my back is healed
- I thought for sure my husband would be over 6 feet tall, have black hair and blue eyes. I'm not disappointed at all that he's nothing like that.
- I believe in love at first sight. Even though realistically and logically you cannot love something or someone that you do not know- it's not possible. So maybe I believe that I knew who my husband was going to be the first time I laid eyes on him.
- I want a Camero but dislike Chevy's very much.
- I also want a Dodge Charger... I like Hemi's.
- I want a BMW
- I have a lot of wants. I think I may be spoiled.
- I have been called a white bread princess before. I often wonder why I wasn't called a wheat bread, or rye bread princess...
- I like dinner rolls
- I don't like bread.
- Clearly I'm a walking contradiction
- I do like french toast though.
- I get sick from syrup
- I am allergic to chocolate, but eat it anyway- it's worth it...sometimes
- I thought I'd own a horse by now
- I never thought I'd get fluffy
- I never thought God would take so long to answer my prayers for healing in my back. I'm still waiting and it has been 6 years.
- I've been infertile for 13+ years and am waiting for that prayer to be answered, too.
- I like red grapes more than green ones.
- I think worms are cool.
- When I see a worm on the ground during a rain shower, I put him in the grass. I wouldn't want to die on an asphalt driveway, so why should the worm?
- I will save a lady bug that is trapped in my house
- My favorite bug is a lady bug- there are personal reasons behind that.
- When I get my horse, I'm going to name him D'Artagnan- after the 4th Musketeer in the Disney version of the 3 Musketeers with Keifer Sutherland, Charlie Sheen and Oliver Platt, and Chris O'Donnell, as of course, young D'Artagnan...
- I would've called the horse Dart for short.
- I never thought I'd still be living in MN
- I would love twin sons
- I would name them William and Matthew.
- My husband does not like those names.
- I had a dream that I had a daughter named Selah Grace...
(pronounced 'See-luh' - I don't really like ice cream- but I think I already said that.
- I repeat things I say quite a bit.
- I don't like cilantro, dill, capers, oysters, celery root or shell fish.
- I wrote an Ode to Cilantro
- I wrote an Ode to Twinkies. I love Twinkies, but am anti- High Fructose Corn Syrup- just put real sugar in stuff for the love of Bea Arthur...
- I wold like to work for Shoebox Greetings, a tiny little division of Hallmark
- I don't like our government and think that we should ship them off to an island- and do a reality show, like survivor. The last two standing will take an oath in front of the American people and promise to abide by the Constitution, and rules set forth by our founding fathers, or understand that they will be fired. Plain and simple. Then, we'll start over...not sure how, but I think we need to start over
- I think our nation needs to be prayed for daily
- I like hockey.
- I wish I was more like I think I am in my head
- It's nice in my head, more people should join me there
- I love taking Rorschach tests
- I love all cop, detective, good vs. evil, medical, Private Eye TV show...anything to do with justice.
- I love Mexican food
- I toot a lot if I eat onions
- I don't like onions, but cook with them, as they do add a lot of flavor to many of my own personal thought up recipes. I prefer them cooked, I will not eat them raw.
- I wish I had more friends that lived close by
- I wish I was able to put my thoughts down and finish the children's book idea that I've had for over 20 years.
- I have written a few poems that are similar in style to Shell Silverstien, but have never shared them with anyone. I don't even know what box in what closet they are stored in.
- I want to live by the ocean. It soothes me. Water soaks my soul and I find Jesus in the water
- The only real fear I have is of drowning- which is ironic considering my previous comment.
- I think adoption should be more affordable, and that older couples should not be discriminated against.
- I think abortion is wrong, but I also think war isn't right, either. Killing is killing, a life is a life, no matter how vile we judge a person to be, or whether or not a fetus is a human to some and not to others, God made it clear that we are not the judge, he is, and we shall not kill.
- I used to only think abortion was wrong, and that war and the death penalty were okay. Now, as someone who is fascinated by the damaged mind of wrongdoers, and mentally unstable, I want to dig into their thoughts and minds and lose the Holy Spirit on them instead, and after much soul searching feel all killing is wrong.
- I believe that God allows me to suffer much so I can serve, save and bless many
- I'm addicted to socks. You cannot have too many pairs of socks.
- My favorite color is purple
- My favorite color is turquoise
- I have two favorite colors. Navy is nice, too- so make it an even three. Except 3 isn't an even number, so we should really say, make it an odd 3...
- I wish I had the money to repaint every room in my house and put in new flooring and a new kitchen counter top.
- I wish things in the dark would come out into the light
- I believe I was meant to be a light to shine into the darkness to bring forth what is hidden and allow God to use me as he sees fit
- I believe that as long as I'm doing what God calls me to do, I cannot be harmed.
- I believe that this pain in my back is nothing compared to what Jesus felt on the cross. I actually have a few pain killers left- but haven't taken one of them. This is a trial for me, and I'm growing stronger in my faith and in my resolve and in my personality by dealing with the pain head on
- I still do wish I could eliminate the pain.
- I would love to be a super hero or a Jedi Knight.
- If I was a super hero, I'd have super hearing, super strength, could read minds, trick minds, and could fight like Neo from the Matrix.
- I think I fantasize and pretend too much in my head.
- I have a lot in common with Harry Potter, I watch Harry Potter movies on only two occasions. When I miss my grandfather (on my father's side) or when I feel like the spiritual battle against me is getting to be too much for me to bear. For some reason, watching Harry Potter puts it all into perspective for me again. I know it's just a movie, but for me it's deeper. Mock if you must, but we all have a book, a song, a movie, a TV show that does something to us, that hits us deep in our hearts, and that we relate to.
- Right now I think every cop, ambulance and fire truck in my city are rushing to a terrible accident of some type- there are a LOT of sirens going off.
- I often dream of things before they happen- generally they involve things with friends or family, or friends or family of friends and family.
- I can walk into a room and tell you what spirit is oppressing it, or what spirit of the Lord is there instead.
- I'm not nuts, I'm gifted
- I have a genius level IQ, but traditional schooling is very hard for me, and I have a reading comprehension learning disability.
- I don't like cheerleaders-they're annoying. As people they have unsurpassable value and worth, but as cheerleaders, they should be locked in a closet...
- That wasn't very nice of me
- I have an evil twin
- She doesn't like cheerleaders.
- I can't snap
- I can't do a cartwheel
- I was a cheerleader for one year- I hated it
- I like to study people's minds and why they do what they do and say what they say, I'm intrigued by that kind of stuff.
- I often know what is bothering a person before they even know.
- That seems to bother some people.
- I don't like pop tarts, but sometimes I crave them, so I'll eat them
- I don't understand why we have AAA and AA batteries. Why not just A, B, C, D, E, F...and so on.
- Who came up with naming batteries anyway?
- Why did Energizer decide a bunny would make a great mascot for them? There are faster and more powerful animals than a bunny...Just for that reason alone, I buy Duracell.
- I think I'm done sharing random, personal, strange, weird, odd, vulnerable, raw, true things about myself for one night.
- I like Wallace and Gromit and love to make things with clay, but don't do it very often due to my back.
- I don't do a lot of the creative things God gifted me to do because of my back...
- I'm tired and have to get up early for my first Water Aerobics Therapy class. I shaved my legs for this...it'd better be worth it. :)
Once my brain gets full again with strange thoughts and such, I'll empty it again. Thanks for reading.
Monday, May 17, 2010
I got new magic shoes!
I got new shoes yesterday. They look exactly like the pair on the left over there. They are by Skechers. (please feel free to pay me royalties, now that I am unemployed). TSM (The Stud Muffin, aka: Dear Husband) was doing some research and felt that these might help me with my severe back injury. So out to a mall far, far away we traveled, by buggy. Kidding- we took the car, but the 40 minute drive was hard on my back. Being that my
Uncle is Murphy, as in the Murphy who came up with 20 or so "Laws", we parked on the opposite end of where the store was that carried these shoes.
I walked, REALLY slowly. I'm almost certain hermit crabs could have beat me to the store had we laid down a course for them. But I held back the tears and walked through the mall with my hubby. At least the place smelled like cotton candy. :) Mmmm Cotton Candy. But, I digress.
The gal at the store is really helpful. For legal reasons, they aren't allowed to help you put your shoes on any more, so thankfully TSM was there to help out. I can only lift my legs to put on socks, shoes, undies, if I have say a pant leg to grab hold of and use it to pull my leg towards me. If I don't have pants on, I'm sort of out of luck. Well, I tried on the shoes, and immediately felt better! (YAY)!!
So, we put my favorite New Balance (Sorry NB) in the now empty Skechers Shape-ups Box and I walked out of the store in my new, ugly shoes standing straighter than I had in weeks.
These are not just ANY shoe... oh, no sirree Bob. (By the way, why is it always Bob that we're no sirring? Why not No Sirree Earl, or Chuck, or Carl?) And, you guessed it--- I digress.
So, back to my magic shoes. These little space aged funky soled shoes are supposed to lengthen and lean my body, tone my legs, buttocks, back and core, increase circulation, and get this- are you ready? (shh, some one might be listening, so lean in close to the monitor, okay?) These magic shoes eliminate HAIL DAMAGE!...You heard me- they lessen cellulite. Who wouldn't want a pair of these?
I mean, heck, I've never bore any children, so my hail damage and stretch marks are from a long line of prescription drugs that made me obese, then fat, then obese again, then thin, then obese, then just plain fluffy. So, I'll be giving you all regular reports on the status of my gluteal hail damage...whether you want it or not. Secretly, you know you do.
I was supposed to go walking in my new magic shoes today, but sneezed and thew my back out a little more than it was already thrown out. If my back were a baseball game, this one would have been way out in left field my friends...a triple play at least.
This is by far the most boring post in my NOG thus far, and I'm sorry. I'm just not on my game today. I'll try and do an entry tonight, because I have a lot of questions I'd like to ask about things I notice on day time television...
Enjoy the nice weather everyone, and wish me well with my new magic shoes. I know I'm looking forward to having the fanny of a 20 year old again.
Uncle is Murphy, as in the Murphy who came up with 20 or so "Laws", we parked on the opposite end of where the store was that carried these shoes.
I walked, REALLY slowly. I'm almost certain hermit crabs could have beat me to the store had we laid down a course for them. But I held back the tears and walked through the mall with my hubby. At least the place smelled like cotton candy. :) Mmmm Cotton Candy. But, I digress.
The gal at the store is really helpful. For legal reasons, they aren't allowed to help you put your shoes on any more, so thankfully TSM was there to help out. I can only lift my legs to put on socks, shoes, undies, if I have say a pant leg to grab hold of and use it to pull my leg towards me. If I don't have pants on, I'm sort of out of luck. Well, I tried on the shoes, and immediately felt better! (YAY)!!
So, we put my favorite New Balance (Sorry NB) in the now empty Skechers Shape-ups Box and I walked out of the store in my new, ugly shoes standing straighter than I had in weeks.
These are not just ANY shoe... oh, no sirree Bob. (By the way, why is it always Bob that we're no sirring? Why not No Sirree Earl, or Chuck, or Carl?) And, you guessed it--- I digress.
So, back to my magic shoes. These little space aged funky soled shoes are supposed to lengthen and lean my body, tone my legs, buttocks, back and core, increase circulation, and get this- are you ready? (shh, some one might be listening, so lean in close to the monitor, okay?) These magic shoes eliminate HAIL DAMAGE!...You heard me- they lessen cellulite. Who wouldn't want a pair of these?
I mean, heck, I've never bore any children, so my hail damage and stretch marks are from a long line of prescription drugs that made me obese, then fat, then obese again, then thin, then obese, then just plain fluffy. So, I'll be giving you all regular reports on the status of my gluteal hail damage...whether you want it or not. Secretly, you know you do.
I was supposed to go walking in my new magic shoes today, but sneezed and thew my back out a little more than it was already thrown out. If my back were a baseball game, this one would have been way out in left field my friends...a triple play at least.
This is by far the most boring post in my NOG thus far, and I'm sorry. I'm just not on my game today. I'll try and do an entry tonight, because I have a lot of questions I'd like to ask about things I notice on day time television...
Enjoy the nice weather everyone, and wish me well with my new magic shoes. I know I'm looking forward to having the fanny of a 20 year old again.
Friday, May 14, 2010
Why I love men- generaly speaking. No, I'm not a jezabel, so cool it people.
I love men. No, not in the sexual sense, like I must have every guy that has two legs and a set of man berries, but I think God designed quite the winning creature when he created guys. Now I understand fully that there are real jerks out there, and some are down right evil, but those hurting people were hurt by hurting people, and they did not follow the design that God laid out when he made men, but I'm not going to focus on them, or it will make me want to hunt down an ex-fiance and throttle him until he pays me the $7500 he owes me when he canceled our engagement and wedding 9 months before the big day.. but I digress. So, back to this man thing. Let's think about it for a minute...
Okay, so back to men- strong, caring, providers, lovers, goofballs, boys at heart, fun, smart, inventive, good with their kids, leaders, builders, sacrificing, cute, hunky, furry, warm. Yep, God did an amazing thing making men, and I believe to an extent that in America most women, not all, but most have done an amazing job of reducing them to bumbling, spineless idiots. I see more women driving cars with hubby's in the passenger's seat, more women demanding to be in control of the household, more women demanding their way is better, and that their husband's are idiots, more women demeaning, belittling, tearing down and destroying our men to the point where we have a government run by actual idiot men, and households full of disrespectful children... And then our schools are trying to turn our young boys into, well, not men, and their turning our girls into... well- not girls, but almost gender reversal. Satan is doing a great job of deceiving women that we are better than men instead of us following God's plan of being their partner, their helpmate, their cheerleader, their friend, their encourager, their sounding board...
Who are we to question or mess with what God created and how He designed our roles?
When was the last time you sat back and focused/perpended on all the things that made you fall in love with your man to begin with, instead of focusing on the fact that he leaves the cap off the toothpaste, doesn't put the toilet paper in the holder the right way, and leaves his socks on the floor of the bedroom and doesn't put the toilet seat down, farts in bed and then pulls the covers over your head? And when you send him to the store for one thing, he brings home a different version, because God didn't wire him to shop, you treat him like a total loser- it has been scientifically proven that a mans brain goes into overload in grocery stores, and they turn into lost, confused, overwhelmed puppies- who can't seem to find the jug of 2% milk that they've been drinking for 40 years...so go easy on him the next time you send him for mayo and he brings home miracle whip. In his head it's all the same. Be happy he didn't come home with Jelly instead...
My point is that it is so easy to focus on the annoyances, that we forget the great things about men (which Satan wants) and our man that God gifted us with, that we tear them down, and don't honor them as we should. Over the next few days, spend 5-10 minutes either listing on paper or focusing in your mind as many things as you can (this may be hard at first if you've wrongly been wearing the pants in the family) about your man that made you love him way back when you first met him and started to date. Focus on the little things he does, celebrate the things he fixes, remembers, provides for you- Thank him not only for being a great man, but for loving God and loving you, And, if he doesn't know or love God, buy the book The Power of a Praying Wife by Stormie O'Martian. I prayed every prayer in that book for 3 years... and now my husband is being transformed by the Holy Spirit in ways I never dreamed possible. Not that he wasn't great before, but he's super great, now...
So, thank you God, for my wonderful husband. Yes, there are times I'd like to glue the remote to his hand so that his A.D.D tendencies didn't make him open and close the back making this annoying clicking noise every 5 seconds, and yes there are times I'd like to choke him, punch him, slug him... but when all is said and done, he's amazing. He's so smart, has this goofy laugh that makes me smile EVERY time I hear it, he's a natural leader, a "clock maker": he can make almost anything work, and fix almost anything. I can give him a drawing of something I want, and he can build it. He is good with car repairs, still has a nice butt, he loves me, he's my friend, and recently he went the extra mile and made a sacrifice to work with me to get through this journey of healing my back from this at times debilitating injury that I suffer from.
He's actually taking time away from his "job" (I say that because we both recently lost our jobs, and his job is volunteering for an amazing ministry, but for now, there is no pay- so I don't call it a job- even though it is, it's not a paying one). Anyway, he is taking time away from there to walk along side me on this journey- go with me to the YMCA for my granny water aerobics, and to the PT clinic as I work on the medieval torture machines, and walk with me as I rebuild my muscles and my strength. He's never done anything that selfless for me, and my heart melts at how amazing he's become as he lets the Lord guide him, and how amazing God is for not only creating him (and man), but for gifting him to me. He is going to sacrifice along with me during my painful journey to recovery. That one action alone, melted my heart and I was so thankful for his love towards me.
So, thank your man, ladies, and focus on the good. You'd be amazed at how more love, joy, fun and harmony you'd have in your lives if you started to focus on what an amazing gift you do have, instead of nitpicking to death all the little things that in the grand scheme of life don't mean squat. So go ahead..."thank" your man today...and maybe even tomorrow if you can find a sitter. ;)
Blessings to you all,
Kacey~
PS- The picture is of my Stud Muffin, with our grandson, Noah.
- They kill bugs we are too chicken to even look at, and they don't even blink about it or tease us
- They can fix almost anything...unless they are one of those new spangled metro boys, and they are just good at fixing up a nice outfit and being hip...
- They have a desire to provide and would do anything for their family/wife
- They don't have to spend hours in the bathroom to look hot
- They have manly muscles- (yum-o!)
- They like to do things like mow the lawn, tinker in the garage, (leaving you with full control over the remote for a while :) )
- They are strong- both physically and mentally
- They are gentle
- They clean up the dog poop...
- Some that aren't gifted in the kitchen try REALLY hard to cook for you from time to time.
- They are logical- which at times drives me nuts, but thankfully God gave me a pretty high dose of creative logic, so their logic doesn't drive me as batty as it could, it makes me appreciate them more.
- They like to sleep on things before they react-they can control their emotions until it is the right time to use or display them. Yes, sometimes they won't even cry if they accidentally lop off their hand with a chain saw while doing simple yard work, but hey- some men are psychotically macho that way...
- They are smart
- They can make a fig leaf a fashion statement...
- They can invent amazing things
- They have two brains
- They can analyze and come to a solution to a problem
- They work hard, and rarely complain about the jerks they have to work with or for- they just work to provide for us.
- They look cool on motorcycles
- They've been given the job to be head of the household and love their wives as the Lord loved the church and to Love God... that's not an easy job, ,yet many men do it.
Okay, so back to men- strong, caring, providers, lovers, goofballs, boys at heart, fun, smart, inventive, good with their kids, leaders, builders, sacrificing, cute, hunky, furry, warm. Yep, God did an amazing thing making men, and I believe to an extent that in America most women, not all, but most have done an amazing job of reducing them to bumbling, spineless idiots. I see more women driving cars with hubby's in the passenger's seat, more women demanding to be in control of the household, more women demanding their way is better, and that their husband's are idiots, more women demeaning, belittling, tearing down and destroying our men to the point where we have a government run by actual idiot men, and households full of disrespectful children... And then our schools are trying to turn our young boys into, well, not men, and their turning our girls into... well- not girls, but almost gender reversal. Satan is doing a great job of deceiving women that we are better than men instead of us following God's plan of being their partner, their helpmate, their cheerleader, their friend, their encourager, their sounding board...
Who are we to question or mess with what God created and how He designed our roles?
When was the last time you sat back and focused/perpended on all the things that made you fall in love with your man to begin with, instead of focusing on the fact that he leaves the cap off the toothpaste, doesn't put the toilet paper in the holder the right way, and leaves his socks on the floor of the bedroom and doesn't put the toilet seat down, farts in bed and then pulls the covers over your head? And when you send him to the store for one thing, he brings home a different version, because God didn't wire him to shop, you treat him like a total loser- it has been scientifically proven that a mans brain goes into overload in grocery stores, and they turn into lost, confused, overwhelmed puppies- who can't seem to find the jug of 2% milk that they've been drinking for 40 years...so go easy on him the next time you send him for mayo and he brings home miracle whip. In his head it's all the same. Be happy he didn't come home with Jelly instead...
My point is that it is so easy to focus on the annoyances, that we forget the great things about men (which Satan wants) and our man that God gifted us with, that we tear them down, and don't honor them as we should. Over the next few days, spend 5-10 minutes either listing on paper or focusing in your mind as many things as you can (this may be hard at first if you've wrongly been wearing the pants in the family) about your man that made you love him way back when you first met him and started to date. Focus on the little things he does, celebrate the things he fixes, remembers, provides for you- Thank him not only for being a great man, but for loving God and loving you, And, if he doesn't know or love God, buy the book The Power of a Praying Wife by Stormie O'Martian. I prayed every prayer in that book for 3 years... and now my husband is being transformed by the Holy Spirit in ways I never dreamed possible. Not that he wasn't great before, but he's super great, now...
So, thank you God, for my wonderful husband. Yes, there are times I'd like to glue the remote to his hand so that his A.D.D tendencies didn't make him open and close the back making this annoying clicking noise every 5 seconds, and yes there are times I'd like to choke him, punch him, slug him... but when all is said and done, he's amazing. He's so smart, has this goofy laugh that makes me smile EVERY time I hear it, he's a natural leader, a "clock maker": he can make almost anything work, and fix almost anything. I can give him a drawing of something I want, and he can build it. He is good with car repairs, still has a nice butt, he loves me, he's my friend, and recently he went the extra mile and made a sacrifice to work with me to get through this journey of healing my back from this at times debilitating injury that I suffer from.
He's actually taking time away from his "job" (I say that because we both recently lost our jobs, and his job is volunteering for an amazing ministry, but for now, there is no pay- so I don't call it a job- even though it is, it's not a paying one). Anyway, he is taking time away from there to walk along side me on this journey- go with me to the YMCA for my granny water aerobics, and to the PT clinic as I work on the medieval torture machines, and walk with me as I rebuild my muscles and my strength. He's never done anything that selfless for me, and my heart melts at how amazing he's become as he lets the Lord guide him, and how amazing God is for not only creating him (and man), but for gifting him to me. He is going to sacrifice along with me during my painful journey to recovery. That one action alone, melted my heart and I was so thankful for his love towards me.
So, thank your man, ladies, and focus on the good. You'd be amazed at how more love, joy, fun and harmony you'd have in your lives if you started to focus on what an amazing gift you do have, instead of nitpicking to death all the little things that in the grand scheme of life don't mean squat. So go ahead..."thank" your man today...and maybe even tomorrow if you can find a sitter. ;)
Blessings to you all,
Kacey~
PS- The picture is of my Stud Muffin, with our grandson, Noah.
Thursday, May 13, 2010
Day one...testing the world of blogging.
Well, here I am, the author I've always wanted to be. Wow- it feels great. For the exception of one thing. I don't have a publisher, or a publicist, nor do I have a $25,000 advance for my musings in the bank from a publisher...but I digress, because that's actually two thing.s So much for being good at addition.
Some day I may become a professional digressor, but for now, I'm working on my Jedi Knight skills, and a few other things, like humility, total surrender to Christ, and finding a cure for my back injury. I'd also like to learn how to control my puppy, Honor. I'm even certain he'd frustrate the Dog Whisperer himself, and send Caesar Milan home whimpering like a wounded pup.
I'm not sure what to write about today, so I'll just ramble a bit.
Yesterday was my long awaited (took 6 years to get there...not because I was lost, and didn't have a map, but because I was on a quest, like Froto in LOTRs, but without that freaky anorexic zombie creature whispering precious and eying my wedding ring). visit with my back surgeon. It was a 6 year quest, because upon our last visit he gave me three options. The first was I could have a back fusion surgery, the second a newly developed artificial disc replacement surgery. Where by the way, they put this silicone disc where your herniated, wounded, broken disc was and you wake up all good and new. The problem with this option was that if I was going to go under the knife to have a silicone implant, I didn't want a quarter sized one in my spine, I wanted a C-cup size on my chest... I'm just saying. If yer gonna get silicone, go big or go home. But I digress...yet again.
So the third option was to try everything but chiropractic. He gave me a long list of things to do, and I eagerly went about completing the list, and even doing a few things that were NOT on the list like experimenting with the healing powers of Twinkies, writing odes about the evil herb Cilantro, and buying a treadmill and joining a gym. I realize having a treadmill AND joining a gym is redundant, but we high IQ people often do things that don't make sense to the average person. No offense, it's just the way it is. Embrace your lower IQ. It's not a bad thing, trust me. So, how'm I doing on that humility thing I am practicing? Good? No? Yeah, I have a long way to go.
Yesterday after exhausting all options, having 7 doctors over a 6 year period put my body through the wringer, being unable to agree upon a solution, let alone a plan to get my back healthy, they ended up in all their doctory wisdom making me sterile. So I can't have children. I also went from a slender, fit, 140 pounds to 195 pounds, then they kept adding pills to fix the problem, and I became insulin resistant, they burnt out my adrenals and my body stopped producing 3 of the major hormones you need to function as a healthy, horny, happy female woman- oh, and it makes it darn near impossible to lose weight. In 6 years I've only ever been able to drop 20 pounds.
So here I sit at 175...and it hurts my body. I'm not short, but I'm not tall. I'm not small boned, I'm actually a good, medium Austrian/German build with strong legs and broad shoulders. I could be a man, except I've got the wrong body parts, and the only facial hair I have is from the testosterone cream experiment one doctor put me on- Thanks, doc...what female doesn't love 78 or so THICK, black hairs growing out of both of her chins? You told me I'd only get hairy where I applied the cream, and my inner thigh is NO where near my double chin(s)...they haven't sunk that low yet.
Back to yesterday- I apologize, you'll find I ramble. Not intentionally- again. It's the high IQ. So many thoughts and I must remember to get them all out or my brain will explode, I pray you understand my plight.
So, yesterday, after going through 4 rounds of therapy at a very well renowned back clinic, 2 rounds at a crappy pt clinic, Narcotics "therapy", walking therapy, personal trainers, bed rest, don't sit, don't stand, don't work, go to work, walk your dogs, don't walk your dogs, ice your back, don't ice your back, use heat, don't use heat, here- take these pills, with the other 7 we gave you, 4 series of bilateral facet injections (google it, and have a bucket near by- I almost puked each time I had the procedure, reading about it will turn you green), multiple steroid injections, steroid pills, creams, potions, voodoo, guesswork, treadmills, gyms and hundreds of healing prayers I went back to Dr. H to tell him I was ready for surgery, because nothing else worked.
He told me "no". Um, doesn't he know who I am? Jedi Master, Warrior Princess of the Risen King, Cute Kacey, THE Kitchen Diva, wanna be member to MENSA... I mean come on dude, I was SOBBING during the examination and you say NO?!?! Are you flipping insane? I concurred that he was and aliens had sucked out his ever loving brain the night before our appointment. I don't blame him. I blame the government for not keeping a closer eye on all those locked up aliens out in sector 7... or where ever that place in the desert is.
Instead he told me to go BACK to the renowned therapy place (YAY) She says with obvious sarcasm...but again, I digress. I wonder if being a professional digressor pays well?
After the 12 week therapy course (which will be my 4th or 5th time, I couldn't tell you because of all the drugs these 7 docs put me on, it fried parts of my memory) I go back to Dr. H, the brainless (due to alien invasion) surgeon to have a discogram. Google that too, cause I'm not even going to talk about it- it's painful, I hate pain, and that's that.
Once Dr. H decides that things have or have not progressed (let's say they haven't) I get to see a shrink. Which is ironic, because I'm starting school this fall to become a shrink. Then, We go to our insurance company, who is always so willing to approve ANYTHING we need or desire. If they say yes, he'll fuse my spine. Wait, did he just say fuse? What about my breast implants? Er, I mean, disc implant? Nope- he wants to do fusion. I refuse fusion. Look it up 16% success rate of the patient NOT ever feeling pain again, the rest either feel the same or worse... He said if we did get my insurance company to agree to the fusion, we could do some fancy wording to get a disc replacement out of it, but I have a lot of work ahead of me before he'll even consider surgery. I felt like I was kicked in the gut, had a bomb dropped on me, lost my best friend, had my dog die, and had my husband tell me he was gay, and discovered Cinnabons had been banned by Obama all at the same time. Needless to say, even with out great Hope giver in office, I had lost all hope.
I think I blinked 5 times yesterday total, cried most of the day, was in extreme pain, oh and the best part is Dr. H said NO MORE PAIN MEDS... yup you heard me- Damn Alien brain suckers. He said they aren't really helping anyway, and if I'm only taking them to sleep. (who needs sleep anyway, right?) I was to stop taking them, and he wasn't going to give me any at all. I went catatonic at that point and just gave up in my head.
TSM was great yesterday. Rough on me, but loving. For the first time in my entire time of knowing him, he's done something so selfless, I'm starting to wonder if aliens got to his brain, too. He's stepping back from his "job" at the ministry to stay home with me as much as he can and go through this with me- yup...go through the water aerobics (from the side lines) go through the Back Clinic- from the side lines, and make sure I do all the other things I'm supposed to do so I can get back into shape, and get better. It's not the same as him giving me a child, but it comes close, because it showed me that he does value me, and he does care. He can be a little hard to figure out in those areas, so I don't mean that disrespectfully to him. He's got baggage, too- but his is fancy baggage...we're talking Louis Vuitton baggage honey! Big, heavy, gaudy, and out there! I love him, but he came with a 7 piece set. Thankfully he's met some great Godly men, and he's down to an over night bag and the smallest rolling suitcase...and maybe the lighted cosmetic bag. Not that he wears makeup...he doesn't- but I'm trying to paint a picture.
Well, I've rambled enough for one day. Thanks for sticking with me. I was going to talk some more about Honor and how the big dorfus woke up at 5:39 this morning, but you can follow that on facebook today if you'd like. I'm off to make some waffles before TSM won't buy them any more (I guess they aren't healthy...who knew) and watch Angel before I go back to bed to get some sleep. They say sleep helps the body heal, so I plan on sleeping today. Oh, and the doctor said nothing about not taking Melatonin or Tylenol PM, so guess what? This woman is going to get some sleep. I'm in so much pain, that night time makes me cry myself to sleep most nights, and I'm not going to toss and turn and cry- so melatonin OR Tylenol PM will be assisting me.
Talk to you guys later. Thanks for reading my novel.
It's okay, I suck at blogging. I should do nogging. It's like writing a novel AND blogging all in one.
Well, since I've got to get my "fighter" attitude back, you can all kiss my grits... kidding!
Love ya all,
KC...
Some day I may become a professional digressor, but for now, I'm working on my Jedi Knight skills, and a few other things, like humility, total surrender to Christ, and finding a cure for my back injury. I'd also like to learn how to control my puppy, Honor. I'm even certain he'd frustrate the Dog Whisperer himself, and send Caesar Milan home whimpering like a wounded pup.
I'm not sure what to write about today, so I'll just ramble a bit.
Yesterday was my long awaited (took 6 years to get there...not because I was lost, and didn't have a map, but because I was on a quest, like Froto in LOTRs, but without that freaky anorexic zombie creature whispering precious and eying my wedding ring). visit with my back surgeon. It was a 6 year quest, because upon our last visit he gave me three options. The first was I could have a back fusion surgery, the second a newly developed artificial disc replacement surgery. Where by the way, they put this silicone disc where your herniated, wounded, broken disc was and you wake up all good and new. The problem with this option was that if I was going to go under the knife to have a silicone implant, I didn't want a quarter sized one in my spine, I wanted a C-cup size on my chest... I'm just saying. If yer gonna get silicone, go big or go home. But I digress...yet again.
So the third option was to try everything but chiropractic. He gave me a long list of things to do, and I eagerly went about completing the list, and even doing a few things that were NOT on the list like experimenting with the healing powers of Twinkies, writing odes about the evil herb Cilantro, and buying a treadmill and joining a gym. I realize having a treadmill AND joining a gym is redundant, but we high IQ people often do things that don't make sense to the average person. No offense, it's just the way it is. Embrace your lower IQ. It's not a bad thing, trust me. So, how'm I doing on that humility thing I am practicing? Good? No? Yeah, I have a long way to go.
Yesterday after exhausting all options, having 7 doctors over a 6 year period put my body through the wringer, being unable to agree upon a solution, let alone a plan to get my back healthy, they ended up in all their doctory wisdom making me sterile. So I can't have children. I also went from a slender, fit, 140 pounds to 195 pounds, then they kept adding pills to fix the problem, and I became insulin resistant, they burnt out my adrenals and my body stopped producing 3 of the major hormones you need to function as a healthy, horny, happy female woman- oh, and it makes it darn near impossible to lose weight. In 6 years I've only ever been able to drop 20 pounds.
So here I sit at 175...and it hurts my body. I'm not short, but I'm not tall. I'm not small boned, I'm actually a good, medium Austrian/German build with strong legs and broad shoulders. I could be a man, except I've got the wrong body parts, and the only facial hair I have is from the testosterone cream experiment one doctor put me on- Thanks, doc...what female doesn't love 78 or so THICK, black hairs growing out of both of her chins? You told me I'd only get hairy where I applied the cream, and my inner thigh is NO where near my double chin(s)...they haven't sunk that low yet.
Back to yesterday- I apologize, you'll find I ramble. Not intentionally- again. It's the high IQ. So many thoughts and I must remember to get them all out or my brain will explode, I pray you understand my plight.
So, yesterday, after going through 4 rounds of therapy at a very well renowned back clinic, 2 rounds at a crappy pt clinic, Narcotics "therapy", walking therapy, personal trainers, bed rest, don't sit, don't stand, don't work, go to work, walk your dogs, don't walk your dogs, ice your back, don't ice your back, use heat, don't use heat, here- take these pills, with the other 7 we gave you, 4 series of bilateral facet injections (google it, and have a bucket near by- I almost puked each time I had the procedure, reading about it will turn you green), multiple steroid injections, steroid pills, creams, potions, voodoo, guesswork, treadmills, gyms and hundreds of healing prayers I went back to Dr. H to tell him I was ready for surgery, because nothing else worked.
He told me "no". Um, doesn't he know who I am? Jedi Master, Warrior Princess of the Risen King, Cute Kacey, THE Kitchen Diva, wanna be member to MENSA... I mean come on dude, I was SOBBING during the examination and you say NO?!?! Are you flipping insane? I concurred that he was and aliens had sucked out his ever loving brain the night before our appointment. I don't blame him. I blame the government for not keeping a closer eye on all those locked up aliens out in sector 7... or where ever that place in the desert is.
Instead he told me to go BACK to the renowned therapy place (YAY) She says with obvious sarcasm...but again, I digress. I wonder if being a professional digressor pays well?
After the 12 week therapy course (which will be my 4th or 5th time, I couldn't tell you because of all the drugs these 7 docs put me on, it fried parts of my memory) I go back to Dr. H, the brainless (due to alien invasion) surgeon to have a discogram. Google that too, cause I'm not even going to talk about it- it's painful, I hate pain, and that's that.
Once Dr. H decides that things have or have not progressed (let's say they haven't) I get to see a shrink. Which is ironic, because I'm starting school this fall to become a shrink. Then, We go to our insurance company, who is always so willing to approve ANYTHING we need or desire. If they say yes, he'll fuse my spine. Wait, did he just say fuse? What about my breast implants? Er, I mean, disc implant? Nope- he wants to do fusion. I refuse fusion. Look it up 16% success rate of the patient NOT ever feeling pain again, the rest either feel the same or worse... He said if we did get my insurance company to agree to the fusion, we could do some fancy wording to get a disc replacement out of it, but I have a lot of work ahead of me before he'll even consider surgery. I felt like I was kicked in the gut, had a bomb dropped on me, lost my best friend, had my dog die, and had my husband tell me he was gay, and discovered Cinnabons had been banned by Obama all at the same time. Needless to say, even with out great Hope giver in office, I had lost all hope.
I think I blinked 5 times yesterday total, cried most of the day, was in extreme pain, oh and the best part is Dr. H said NO MORE PAIN MEDS... yup you heard me- Damn Alien brain suckers. He said they aren't really helping anyway, and if I'm only taking them to sleep. (who needs sleep anyway, right?) I was to stop taking them, and he wasn't going to give me any at all. I went catatonic at that point and just gave up in my head.
TSM was great yesterday. Rough on me, but loving. For the first time in my entire time of knowing him, he's done something so selfless, I'm starting to wonder if aliens got to his brain, too. He's stepping back from his "job" at the ministry to stay home with me as much as he can and go through this with me- yup...go through the water aerobics (from the side lines) go through the Back Clinic- from the side lines, and make sure I do all the other things I'm supposed to do so I can get back into shape, and get better. It's not the same as him giving me a child, but it comes close, because it showed me that he does value me, and he does care. He can be a little hard to figure out in those areas, so I don't mean that disrespectfully to him. He's got baggage, too- but his is fancy baggage...we're talking Louis Vuitton baggage honey! Big, heavy, gaudy, and out there! I love him, but he came with a 7 piece set. Thankfully he's met some great Godly men, and he's down to an over night bag and the smallest rolling suitcase...and maybe the lighted cosmetic bag. Not that he wears makeup...he doesn't- but I'm trying to paint a picture.
Well, I've rambled enough for one day. Thanks for sticking with me. I was going to talk some more about Honor and how the big dorfus woke up at 5:39 this morning, but you can follow that on facebook today if you'd like. I'm off to make some waffles before TSM won't buy them any more (I guess they aren't healthy...who knew) and watch Angel before I go back to bed to get some sleep. They say sleep helps the body heal, so I plan on sleeping today. Oh, and the doctor said nothing about not taking Melatonin or Tylenol PM, so guess what? This woman is going to get some sleep. I'm in so much pain, that night time makes me cry myself to sleep most nights, and I'm not going to toss and turn and cry- so melatonin OR Tylenol PM will be assisting me.
Talk to you guys later. Thanks for reading my novel.
It's okay, I suck at blogging. I should do nogging. It's like writing a novel AND blogging all in one.
Well, since I've got to get my "fighter" attitude back, you can all kiss my grits... kidding!
Love ya all,
KC...
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