What. A. Week.

 This past week kind of wrecked me! There were extreme highs and lows, and everything in between, and by last night I was just done! Quite literally I was unable to feel anything...depleted of feelings. I was sick to my stomach. I could not stay awake past 9pm.  What about this week was so much?  Well, in the span of 5 days I had medical testing with my youngest kiddo, my dog almost died in quite a dramatic fashion, I had my 6 month knee checkup, waited on test results for the aforementioned kiddo for 3 days, attended terribly sad funeral for a friend’s son, and late yesterday got unexpectedly great news about the kiddo’s testing. Sprinkle in going to work, some hard conversations, some running-related emotion, keeping the household going...it was a lot. In the end my kid will be ok and the dog is alive, but I really struggled with how intense everything was all week. 

The great news about Aaron came around 6pm last night and I was certainly happy and relieved and grateful he was ok, but I felt like I should have been jumping up and down with joy. Throwing a party. Popping champagne. Something! But I had nothing left. I certainly exhaled for the first time all week. I certainly felt relief and hugged him tight. But sheer exhaustion set in and I struggled to stay awake even another few hours. Every noise I heard sounded far too loud and irritated me immensely. Being frustrated with myself for feeling this way certainly wasn’t helping, so I put myself to bed. I woke up today (in the middle of the night, really, to catch a 5am flight) feeling dazed but more grounded. 

 Being in therapy the past few years has taught me a lot about myself (duh, kind of the point right?) and has helped me understand how I respond to life, the good and the bad. I’ve also learned that how I handle life is something to be proud of. I tend to be hard on myself, feeling like I’m not handling something with enough poise or responding the way I’m “supposed to.” But how I “do life” is linked to the core of who I am, and is something to be celebrated rather than ashamed of. When I have a day like Tuesday (that was when I was in the hospital with my kid, scary news about what was seen on his testing, and then cane home to an almost dead dog), I jump into action and just do what needs to be done. It’s a good response because shit gets done. But it takes a toll and I kind of crash afterwards. I never got to crash this week because I just had to keep moving. 

So while I was frustrated with how I felt last night, I knew why I felt that way and had to give myself permission to respond as such. 

Details about my week for those interested:

*With regard to Aaron, he had his big colonoscopy/endoscopy/video capsule procedure on Tuesday. The prep on Monday was traumatic and no fun for him. He did great during the hospital procedure Tuesday but the doctor saw some very concerning things in his esophagus and prepared me for the very high likelihood of it being Crohn’s disease. We anxiously awaited the biopsy results for a few days, and Friday evening the doctor called with wonderful unexpected news! While he has all of the symptoms of IBD (Crohn’s), the biopsies show just surface inflammation, no deep tissue involvement. So he has IBS...similar symptoms as IBD but with no actual long term damage. We can treat his symptoms (give Imodium and anti-spasm medications) without worrying about masking an underlying disease process. He will have the potential for these symptoms all of his life, but again, no damage to his GI tract. Ridiculously good news that left me feeling kind of shell-shocked. 

Struggling through the prep on Monday


Waiting to go back to the procedure room

Dinner last night after we got the good news

*With regard to the dog...I came home from the hospital with Aaron on Tuesday afternoon to find that our one dog Daisy was terribly sick. There was blood everywhere in our house (all coming from her rear end)...I mean it really was everywhere! All 4 floors...every room. So it was a nasty mess and she was very ill. I rushed her to the vet who then told us to rush to the veterinary hospital for intensive care because she was in shock. 

This is me driving her to the vet. She was like a limp rag-doll!

Long story short, I was warned that she may have a mass causing the bleeding but they had to stabilize her before we would know anything. 24 hours later they called to say no masses were found but that her intestines looked very inflamed. It’s likely a virus that caused her intestines to hemorrhage. So 48 hours (and thousands of dollars) later she was home and looking like the picture below...

By the way, I would love a break from dealing with intestinal issues and diarrhea for a while, human or canine. 

*With regard to my knee...I had my 6 month follow-up with Dr. Z on Wednesday. It’s not fully 6 months yet, but pretty darn close. He walked into the exam room and gave me the biggest hug. His big smiles and big hugs are truly part of what I love about having him as my doctor. So he asked me what was up and I blurted our, “they think my kid has Crohn’s disease and my dog is dying!” He looked at me with big “WTF” eyes. Sorry I couldn’t keep my cool Dr. Z!

So in terms of my knee, he’s delighted with how it looks, how stable it feels, and how functional I am. At the end of the exam:

Me: sooooo

Dr. Z: what? 

Me: well, what else can I do?

Dr. Z: why do you have to do anything else? Ok, I’ll rephrase, what do you want to be able to do? Please don’t say you plan to run again!

Me: my wish list is Swim, Bike (outside), and Yoga

So in the end, I’m cleared to swim as long as it doesn’t involve any weird kicks. I’m cleared for yoga as long as I modify positions that hurt. And reluctantly he said yes to biking, although he prefers to keep me in a bubble on the stationary bike. Final biking instructions: DON’T FALL!

I’m pretty proud of myself for listening to him, waiting (not so) patiently to be allowed to do more activities. Is that a sign that you’re getting old?  When you listen to your doctor’s instructions without thinking twice? I know a younger me would be pushing the limits as far as I could go. A younger me would also likely insist on still running. 

I go back to see him in 3 months. I need to stay the course with my home PT and can increase to 3-4 times/week instead of just 2 times. This past week I didn’t do a single knee exercise. I hate when I let it go like that, but as discussed above, this week hasn’t exactly been typical. He described this as the “maturation phase” of recovery and he says this is the time frame (6-12 months) when people most often injure themselves. So easy does it!

So Thursday there was a last minute request that I present at a meeting for work so I decided to ride my bike there!

Holy mackerel I was nervous but it went well and it felt SO good to be biking outside!!! I was on high alert to make sure I didn’t fall, but between the potholes and the drivers and pedestrians, it was pretty nerve wracking! I forgot how terrible drivers and pedestrians are in the city when you are biking. Clueless and selfish and no regard to bikers. 

I naturally start my pedaling with my L leg and doing so used to hurt horribly before the surgery. I would have to consciously remind myself to lead with my R after almost falling off my bike from the pain. Thursday, I led with my L and it did not hurt my knee at all. I will be honest and admit that my L knee was sore Friday (and again today).  It’s not sore in the surgery area, more on the lateral side, the same place it hurts when I try and work on hamstring curls. So I need to lead with my R for a while and continue working on the L side strength. 

Now to find time for yoga and swimming, let alone the normal rehab exercises!

*The funeral on Friday that ended my week was so sad and emotional. A friend/co-worker lost her son to cancer, suddenly, after fighting hard for 3+ years. It’s never easy to go to a funeral (in my opinion), but it’s exponentially harder when that person is young. And as a mother, watching someone grieve their child is absolutely gut-wrenching. It’s hard not to get wrapped up in the intensity of the emotions everyone displays. I was the genius that forgot tissues AND wore mascara. Yup. Hot mess right here. 

I cannot imagine something as terrible as watching your child die. It makes you hug your kids a little harder, and not be so annoyed by their arguments. I came home from the funeral and had to clean the house before I flew to CA on Today. As I was cleaning I noticed the little boy fingerprints on the bathroom mirrors and the toothpaste on the sink and was grateful that I was cleaning them. Grateful to have my two boys making messes in my house!

*And now I am traveling to CA for 36 hours for a family event. It’s just me solo, and I really thought there was no way I could rally myself to do this with how wiped I felt last night. But here I am, flying over someplace between Chicago and California, drinking coffee and decompressing through this blog. It feels so good to decompress. I would honestly rather have stayed home, but extended family calls and like everything else in my life, I’ll fit it in. 

Good morning Chicago!

Somehow I am lucky enough to have my own row for BOTH flights!

It looks like I’m over Colorado right now, at a ground speed of 479mph. 

Hello down there!

According to the interactive map, these are the Wet Mountains, in Colorado. 

Lake Mojave fed by the Colorado River in Nevada

Soda Lake

Funny when I used the bathroom on the plane just now, I dropped a paper towel on the ground and laughed at myself as I tried to pick it up. It brought me back to the first time I traveled as a mom. Charlie was 7 months old and I flew by myself with him to Seattle for my cousin’s wedding. He happened to develop a GI upset sometime between getting on the first plane and landing at our layover, and his diapers would not hold what was coming out of him (seems as though I’m destined to deal with diarrhea). If you’ve never noticed the baby changing station located in airplane bathrooms, it’s because they are a joke and hardly useable. You can barely turn around in one of the bathrooms, let alone change a diarrhea blowout in a big 7 month old baby! I remember thinking that by getting through that flight without destroying my clothes or my spirit, I could do anything as a mom.

I think this has been long enough. Even if no one reads this thought-dump of a post, it helps me to get it out. Happy weekend to you all!