Skip to main content

Pain

First of all, do not worry, I have not quit blogging, despite the long time between posts. (I know ya'll have been feeling a bit panicky) I have just been too messed up to write. First I got a nasty sinus infection which totally wiped me out. Then I completely screwed up my shoulder. Then I went on a week long beach vacation with a messed up shoulder. (I won't get into that, much. Lets just say that lying on the living room floor with an ice pack on your face while numerous family members walk in and out and shoot you sad, pity faces is not the best way to spend a vacation.) 

Of course, it wasn't all misery. The beach was beautiful, the company delightful. Maya had the time of her life; splashing in the ocean for hours, running around with her two cousins. There were times when we would look up from whatever book we were reading (or level of Candy Crush Saga we were struggling with) and wonder "Where did our child go?" Inevitably we would find her playing cards in her cousin Leah's bedroom, or chasing six year old George down the block, or digging a hole in the sand big enough for all of us to live in. One night there was a concert in the park across from our house and we all sat on the porch, drank wine and listened to music. That was lovely.

But the whole time the pain was there, like an annoying drunk buddy who can't take the hint that it is time to go home. Tylenol and Advil only took the edge off. Lying down was best. Sitting was bearable. Standing sucked. I didn't sleep well all week. The injury, although seeming to be in my shoulder, caused pain all up my neck and into my head, resulting in an annoying tension headache. (It did not help that I had just come off of a sinus infection so all I could think about was "Stiff neck???? MENINGITIS!") 

I did my best. Constant pain is rough. It makes you angry, scared and depressed. (Ok, it made me all those things. Perhaps you aren't such a wuss.) And I am an athlete. I have been in pain before, but never something quite this debilitating or something that healed this slowly. 

So here I am writing with a heating pad on my shoulder. My doctor, who is good for very little except writing prescriptions, gave me some muscle relaxers which are lovely, aside from making me want to sleep all day. I am trying to be patient...and failing miserably.

Oh and I have been doing some research. (Because WebMD is like crack for me, I can't stay away.) And although I would like to say that this injury was caused by something sexy like rolling out of an omoplata, I pretty sure it is actually from carrying a heavy purse on one shoulder for so many years.

Yes you heard that right. My purse has crippled me.
Fourth degree black belt and all.
Excuse me while I go bury my head in the sand.

This shoulder, although never this bad, has actually been giving me trouble for years so I am going to see an orthopedist this week. Like a good, responsible person. 

I haven't trained in over two weeks. Which normally wouldn't be a big deal, except that it forced me to spend a lot of time just sitting around thinking. Far too much time. I am not one of those people who should be alone for too long with her own thoughts, they start to turn on me. Normally when this happens, I go roll around on some mats for an hour or punch something. Without that release, my brain has had plenty of time to obsess. ("MENINGITIS!!!") 

So here we are. Slowly healing. Working on patience. Again.
Didn't I just write about this?
Clearly someone is trying to tell me something.

Hope you are feeling good today. Just in case you aren't, here is a picture of the beach. 



Helps me anyway.
Happy Sunday!


Comments

Popular posts from this blog

November 20th

I am going to tell you a secret.  The name of your school does not matter. The patch you wear on your uniform does not matter. The belt you tie around your waist, the color of your gi, the medals on your wall, none of these things matter.  All that matters is the sweat on the floor. Period. I am not saying that you should not be proud of those things. You earned them and they deserve to be celebrated.  I am not saying that all dojos are the same. They aren't. But none of that matters. What matters is that you did one more pushup that night. When you thought you were done, you did one more.  What matters is that you kept fighting, even though he had you pushed up against the wall and for a moment there you were pretty sure he forgot who you were. He certainly forgot how small you were, yet you kept fighting, or at least you kept your hands up and waited for the bell to ring. You didn't quit. What matters is that you went to class. When you would really rather be on

Dear Ronda Rousey

I am not into celebrities. If you want to know what Snooki named her baby, or who in Tinseltown got married and divorced this weekend, don't ask me. I do not consider the people prancing around on my television role models for my daughter, representatives for women-kind, or at all relevant to real life in any way. So twerk away Miley, I do not care. But I am a martial artist. I learn arm bars and rear naked chokes. I throw punches and knee kicks. I work on traditional katas and do pushups and try to pass the guard and sweet Jesus, I even occasionally throw low kicks which other people check with their shins. (  http://www.latimes.com/sports/la-sp-ufc-20131229,0,7356884.story#axzz2os6WWXVl ) I am not a professional fighter. But I am a woman who loves to fight. And as such, I was thrilled when Dana White finally allowed female fighters into the Octagon. Seeing you armbar Liz Carmouche was incredible. And I could watch you Judo toss people onto the mat all day long. You are a tr

Failure to Progress

This morning I woke up thinking "Hey it has been awhile since I have written a blog post. Lets do that!" (Well to be honest, my first thought was "Cofffeeeeee." But after that it was all about writing.) It is Thursday, which means it is a BJJ day for me. I took class yesterday so my neck is a bit sore (spider guard) but nothing is too banged up. I really like my new school and I am looking forward to going to class today. So its going to be a great training day! Right? As I was weaving my hair into as many braids as possible in the hopes of it surviving rolling today, I had an idea for what I wanted to write about. In December it will be five years of BJJ for me. Yet sometimes I still am not sure why I am doing it. Despite hours and hours on the mats, I am still pretty bad at it. I still get tapped by white belts who are much bigger than me. I still forget every drill within a week of learning it. I am still not sure exactly what the point of all this is. Is it