freedom, Freedom, FREEDOM

Look at me: no crutches, no wheelchair, no cane, no nothing! I went to the doctor (the doctor named Dake), more correctly, the physical therapist. I just have urges to quote Seussical, is all.

Starting over because I probably confused you, I don't have to use a cane anymore! I'm a free woman! True I still have an assignment of probably a hundred excersises per night (only a slight exaggeration). My psuedo therapist looked at the sheets of paper in her hands and looked at me, then said: "Wow. This is a lot of excersises." So she said I didn't have to do all of them every night. Which was good, because I would probably expire every night from a combination of boredom and exhaustion, and on top of all that, I wouldn't get any homework done and my grades would suffer along with my entire left leg. And then my leg would fall off which would kind of defeat the point. The point of everything. I said my psuedo therapist. I should explain that for those of you still reading. My old therapist, Julianne, took off to Collierville, never to be my therapist again. So, I guess I don't know who my therapist is anymore. Which doesn't matter, because I don't have to go any more!

At least until my next surgery. So, the reason that I have so many excersises is because I have some foot/ankle issues now. Why? No idea. My therapist thinks I'm overcompensating or something because my left leg is shorter, but really, I have no idea. Which brings me to the reader participation part: If you are reading this, stand up. Either push your chair back or move beside it, to get some room for moving. Now stand on your tippy toes and come back down. That's right. Okay, now do it again, except stop somewhere in the middle. Now imagine a kind of steady pain welling up in the bridge of your foot. That's what is in my foot, when I walk and etc. I wanted to show you where the pain was, as well as imagine all of you standing near your computers with slightly confused looks on your faces. Teehee.

By the way, I have dubbed today Mexican Culture day. Aka: Listen to all of the songs in Spanish that you know, as well as some new ones. Tips: Me cai, or pretty much anything by Pacifika, and Juanes, my favorite is Fotografia.

Just a small cosmic question

Is the past tense of "forgo",
"forwent"?
or, "forgoed"?

Saying either of them kinda gives me the shivers anyway.

Hip Hip Hooray!

(Just a little point of irony: Just as I was finishing the post above, I realized I was listening to the song Thunder, by Boys Like Girls. Haha.)

Tuesday morning:
I awoke on the cot in Witchita. For a while I lay half awake, half asleep, and half listening to the talk in the kitchen. After a while, I realized I should probably get up. After all, there was coffee just waiting for me in the other room. I half took off my covers so that I may roll over and look at the floor. My crutches, Doppleganger, were laying there, quite innocently, in the little aisle between my cot and the bed. And then I half smiled. Because today was the day that I could stand without them. So I stood up. Going down the hallway, I half clutched the walls, at least as far as it is possible to clutch walls, because I was so unsteady. But hey! I was walking! Okay, half walking. Limping in fact. But I walked into the kitchen, where I was received with joy at my new found freedom. And then I limped over to my coffee. After my coffee, I can stop half doing things, and actually do them. But the limp remained. I think I'm uneven, which is really weird. And I move really slow. But Tuesday, I just walked around just to feel it. It felt so good.

YAY!!!!!!!

Ditching crutches, yeah

On that Tuesday morning, yeah

It felt so good, yeah

Becoming Helen Hunt

For (half of) spring break, I went to Witchita, Kansas. That's where my Grandparents on my mother's side live. Waiting for us were mis tios, my uncles and aunts on that side. Along with my cousin. Witchita hadn't had any wet weather in a couple months, so it was quite due by the time we were rolling in. On this trip, I drove quite a bit. The ten hour trip was divided about 40/60 between my mother and I. On the way into Wichita, I was driving. To the northwest of us (I think), storm clouds were brewing, with occasional bursts of bright thunder looking like scribbles coming out of those dark clouds. Of course, I just thought We would never quite hit that mass of darkness and if we did, it wouldn't really affect us, right? It would just be some rain. Wrong. Coming straight toward Wichita was a tornado.



...or at least the possibility of one. My grandfather called us to warn us. Suddenly, every flash of lightening frightened the hooey out of me. My eyes opened wider and my hands gripped the wheel just a little tighter. As we entered the city, th storm was right above us, even though they had called off the tornado warning. Gack. I really did feel like Helen Hunt. But we survived it! I spent a lovely weekend+ with my family. I even got to go shooting for the first time. I got to shoot Grandpa's legendary pearl handled pistol! As anyone could guess if they just hung out around me for a while, my aim was definitely not static. My shots were all over the board, or paper, rather. But I got a wicked -sorry- filthy bullseye. That's the word with the new connotation that Uncle Joe taught me. Yes, I shot a bullseye. I shot a rifle and a .357 along with the pistol. Unfortunately, the .357 shares something with the lovely tornado lightning, in that they both scared the ness out of me. Wow, that gun packs some punch, like Tang! So let's get down to the part that's actually relevant: my hips. Yay!



~Keep reading for more episodes from Melora's Dysplastic Life at 8/7 Central~

The Allusion of Life (can you find it?)

Points to Melora for keeping her blog updated at a critical time in her progress!

Not.

Sorry. I guess I've meant to update. And now I'm here! The day before I depart to into an undiscovered country. Namely, Witchita.

So what's new? I can walk! Kind of. I am allowed to put 50% of my weight on my left leg. Only several more days now till Tuesday, and then I can put my full weight on it. Right now, I'm hobbling around at school with crutches. And they do have a name! Their name is Dopple/ganger, though it is often difficult to distinguish one from the other. I will admit, I did have help coming up with the genius name Doppleganger. I owe that one to Jasper Fforde, a wonderful writer who writes about...literature. But not in a dry way.

Back to subject!
I have a triumph! I have moved back upstairs to the lighter colored realms. Those of you who have witnessed the happiness of my room know what I am talking about. For those of you who haven't...
My room is a burst of sunshine. The walls are covered with blue, orange, and pink paint, alternately and the walls also slant up at the top. There are even little alcoves that wander off with windows at the end. A pink shag rug adorns the floor while and almost identical blue coverlet reclines on my bed. My bookshelves are stuffed with books which lay haphazard because there isn't enough room. My CDs are in a similar state. In all, my room is an oasis of brightness and happiness and cherrfulness and nicety. And especially since it is smelling like spring outside, my room now smells like nothing is impossible. But then I return to "the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune" as life sometimes feels. But my room is always a reprieve, an escape, to these feelings. So moving back upstairs has been feeling like a kind of heaven for me. I can drive now, by the way. I'm a fairly good driver, so this has been such a lovely thing for me.

By the way, not to damper the feeling, but yes, to damper the feeling, my next surgery is already scheduled for June11. yay.