A bit of a recap - a refresher!

T- 14 days

Everywhere I turn, there are decaying blog posts - on my blog as well - except one at one blog. I hope that this summer will revive these writings. By the way, today is the first day of my official summer and I shall celebrate it by updating my writing with the songs I am listening to! *The Summer Obsession* This whole week I've been up and about and at the school doing things and this is the first day to sleep in (well, mostly) and not have to do anything, even though I have been doing some things. But this is it, man!

Well, since I actually haven't talked about the medical side to Periacetabular Osteotomies in a while, I shall refresh everybody's memory including mine. Periacetabular Osteomy is a fancy way for saying: "We are going to cut open your hip, disconnect the socket, and turn it around"! Well, hopefully I won't be going in a 360 degree angle! Haha. *I Am the Highway, Audioslave*

My story, and why my situation is so unusual: This surgery, called a PAO, is used mostly on people who have developed hip dysplasia. Hip dysplasia is a condition developed by people, usually women, whose femoral heads have become dislodged from their hip socket, or their acetabulum. *Blow up the Outside World, Soundgarden* Now, there are two kinds of people who get hip dysplasia. There are those who receive it as a birth defect and those who develop it later in life. Those who develop it later in life usually have led active lives and are in their mid-20s or 30s when they realize the problem. And this is why I'm so unusual. There's almost no one else receiving the PAO, or any other kind of hip reconstructive surgery, that is in his/her teens. You see, I had hip dysplasia as an infant, which would have been fairly easy to fix, but it was only caught when I was 1 1/2 years old. By then, the bones had fixed in their place, and we resorted to surgery. But then again, the doctors had no idea how the bones and the joints would react to growth. By the time I was, oh, about 13-14? I had started getting pain in my hip. Which is why I had my first surgery on Dec. 18. And now June 11 for the other hip. *Moonchild, Chris Cornell*

So there we go, all around full circle in a never ending loop. I have feelings of nostalgia. Sorry, I'm being driven crazy by my latest giant novel, One Hundred Years of Solitude. Very good. Very long. Very...long wearing. But, on the plus side, Mrs. Donaldson has promised to read The Alchemist this summer! Hopefully it will be placed on the reading list for future generations... *Wonderwall, Oasis*

A moment...suspended in time...

I forget what that quote is from. At least, I think it's a quote. And perhaps it's familiar.

But anyhow, I am here to announce that it is only 30 or 31 days until zero hour. I'm rather shaky on the math, you see. It will be my last surgery until several decades from now. Yay. So, in short, I have only 1 month to frolic. To play badminton and make bukus (however you spell it) of muffins and to go to events or casual coffee with my friends without worrying about accomodations. After that, I'm resigned to Tracy, the wheelchair. It's kinda sad, but you probably read my "I am a woman" speech earlier, so that attitude still resides in me. Well, one month. Until I go to senior picnic in a wheelchair. Even at school I'll be on crutches. Sorry! I don't mean to sound depressing. I broke 2 dishes today and so that's probably why I sound down!
This is just a psuedo announcement. I am beginning countdown!

30 (or 31) days

Saving Grace

Who/What/Where is your saviour? Most of us would say, off hand, that Jesus, or God, is our Saviour. But spiritually aside, what is?

 Maybe I'm phrasing this wrong. What I'm trying to say is that there are things in our lives that save us from insanity. Things that save s from feeling that life is hopeless. Things that save us from ourselves, even. School, oddly enough, has been my saviour many a time. A saviour from enclosure, from boredom, from caged feelings. Baking, especially when it come to muffins!,  has been my saviour - Abigail (and pretty much everyone else)! I can see you laughing! -  from impossibility, from lack of purpose. This summer, I have already picked out my saviours. That sounds odd. Estem...I know what  shall do this summer. When I lie in bed lacking motivation or purpose. A list, for I have recently come to appreciate, yet still not love, lists. Oh, Mr. Knight's class...

1. Muffins - Yep. You could probably see that coming. As I have declared that I will someday open a pastry/cafe, I think that this is perfectly normal. :D

2. Books. - Oh, yes. Along with the regular  AP English books - Frankenstein, something, and something else - I am trying to get as far as I can on my "100 Books You Should Read Before College" List. I just finished number 23 on my list! Yay!

 

3. Friends. - Oh, I'll make them come back from vacation or die! Just kidding. I do love all of you.....

4. LOTR? - I have the urge to watch Lord of The Rings again. I'm planning on getting the extendaversion and watching all of them!!!!! Oh, and I'm gonna fly over to the Lira's and steal Spirited Away!

Haha. There is my summer. So, question. What is your saviour? And yes, I meant it, Michael.

Limits that FAIL to exist: Finding the lemons

If these limits fail to exist, why do we learn about them?

Anyhow. That's really not why I am writing. I am writing to include a way that I failed recently, for the sake of adrenaline! So, as for setting the scene...

Band tour: Yipeeeeee!!!! I loved band tour so much. Ranks the best ever. Even though WOF was a bit of a let down, we OWNED as far as music went. We had fun nights in the hotel with the girls in my room: Jesse, Ashley, Catherine, and Maria. I somehow gashed my leg open with a ... soapdish??? We went to a dinner theatre and I got the prize for...most ridiculous answer. Mrs. Pinkerton, Agatha Christie would've been proud of me. For real. In my answer, I had someone who was really someone else, and seeming strangers who were really partners in murder! It was thrilling. Turns out I was wrong, but I really think it's the other way around. The writers are wrong! Anyways, it was marvelous.
After we competed, we went to WOF (aka, worlds of fun!!!). Whereever I went, the road broke down. It was terrible! I'm cutting all of the middle stuff, but me and a five other people ended up on the Mamba. And were late. And we didn't even get to ride. But here's the deal. We were way late. So we ran back to the entrance and hastily onto the bus.
My mistake? Running, my friends. To the Mamba and from the Mamba. I'm really not allowed to run by doctor's orders. I've already paidd for being late, but I hope I don't have to pay too much for being...foolish. My mom got mad. Really. She wasn't on the bus, but she heard about it later...

And that's the way I've failed recently. Thank you very much.


42 days, if anyone's interested...

Pride.

Less than a week without a cane and suddenly I'm in Chicago. The A cappella trip really did suprise me. I mean, more than usual. Usually, these trips sneak up on me, but this year it is as if I only half believed it existed and only half believed that I was actually going. And then, I was packing and then I was on the bus. I was excited as all get out. I love big cities. Cities with a dramatic history and something to be really proud about. Where all of the people have a personality. I can just see myself setting up shop and living in these places...

But there I was in Chicago. You know what's in Chicago, more than anything else???
Lines.
And sidewalks.
Suffice to say, I was on my feet a lot. From when I awoke in the morning to when I slept at night, only a few hours-eating and riding on the bus-were not spent walking or standing. And what did my hip/leg/foot feel about this? Splendid. I felt like ROLLMAN. I could do anything. I didn't run, really, but I twirled (and fell) and moved with vivacity. My legs, though tired at the end of the day, were strong and stable under me and I never felt pain. And so pride swelled in my heart like Fozzie's american pride. And confidence.

With this pride and confidence, I'll be able to get through it. Through what's ahead. I'm proud of my hip and its solidarity. I'm proud of the recovery of my body. And I am confident that I can do it again! I am stronger than this. I always believed it, but now I know it. I am braver than I think I sometimes am. I am a survivor in my own mind, surviving my own mind and my own insecurities even more than the hip dysplasia. I am independent despite dependency. I am only physically dependent to the place where I know I won't provide detriment to myself. I am daring. I am proven, refined. I am humble. Just kidding. That was a joke!

I have proven to myself that being halfway through this chapter of hip issues is a pretty good place to be right now. The glass is half full. I am halfway done and I'm proud of that. I could say that I'm halfway done and look at what I have to undergo this summer. But I won't. Apparently, I'm too proud for that. :)

I will be stronger than whatever comes at me.
I can do everything through HIM who gives me strength. -Philippians 4:13
I am invincible.

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.