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Jan 2, 2015

2014: The Year of (mostly minor) Illness & Injury

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I’ve started looking back on the year that just ended, and while I have so many good memories of the year, and so many moments to be thankful for, I also quickly realized this wasn’t the best year for our health.

For starters, this was the year of the stomach virus for us. It started at the most magical place on Earth in March, when Mira fell ill with a gastrointestinal virus, three days into our Walt Disney World trip. Aaron caught it two days later, and Cordy caught it a day and a half later, on our drive back home. While it did keep the family from seeing Animal Kingdom, we still managed to visit the other parks, although Aaron’s visit to Hollywood Studios was only a half day.

WDW 2014No, Aaron wasn’t the one taking this picture – he was sick in bed that morning.

A couple of months later, Cordy again fell ill with some kind of stomach bug at the end of our Cedar Point trip. On the upside, at least she didn’t get sick until the end of the trip.

In September, we were excited to attend an annual picnic of a group of friends, many of whom we only get to see once or twice a year. After driving two hours to the picnic, Cordy immediately became sick, and we had to turn right back around and go home, missing the event entirely. She also missed nearly a week of school after that because she was so sick.

In December, it was Mira’s stomach that required us to leave our friends’ annual Christmas party – long before we were ready to leave – after she unexpectedly lost her dinner.

So…what have we learned? Much better and more frequent hand washing, that’s for certain. I’m not sure how the kids fell victim to so many stomach viruses in a single year, all during the worst possible times. As they’ve grown older, they’ve become much better about keeping their hands clean and keeping hands away from their face as much as possible. Mira still has a desire to touch everything around her, though, so I’m sure that was the cause of at least the Disney outbreak.

I’m hoping 2015 will bring us stronger immune systems and no illnesses poorly timed to traveling or important events.

Personally, 2014 was a year of too many injuries for me. I spent the first part of the year with a shoulder that wouldn’t move without intense pain due to a poorly placed flu shot that caused subacromial bursitis. I’ve never had a shoulder injury before this, so learning to get dressed and perform daily activities with a limited range of motion on the left side was frustrating. The injury improved with a cortisone shot and 6 weeks of physical therapy, but then flared up again over the summer.

So far my shoulder has been pain-free since my second cortisone shot in August, but I can’t say for certain that it won’t flare up again. I’m wishing for no shoulder pain in 2015.

If that wasn’t enough: I started running more in 2014, and just as I was getting into the groove and starting to LOVE running, something started to hurt on the outside edge of my foot. Since mid-October, I’ve been dealing with tendonitis that is stubborn to heal. (Or maybe I’m the one being stubborn, because I want to get back to running.) Two and a half more weeks in the boot, and then hopefully I’ll be allowed to start running again.

The bootI cannot wait to get this thing off.

I want 2015 to be my best running year ever. I can’t wait to get back to training for the runDisney Enchanted 10k, and maybe even try for a longer distance later in 2015.

I’m not saying 2014 was terrible. These are mostly minor issues – very minor compared to some illnesses and injuries – and I’m thankful that we’re all still relatively healthy. I’d just like to be even more healthy in 2015.

Filed Under: Family, memories, plague ·


Dec 17, 2014

A Little Hard To See

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Each Monday at school, Cordy’s class starts their week by writing down all of that week’s homework assignments on a homework log provided by the teacher. This helps the kids plan their week and, more importantly in our case, helps Aaron and I guide Cordy on her homework for the week. I absolutely love the homework log.

At first, Cordy’s homework log was written in pencil. However, I think she was getting bored with pencil, and so she started bringing home a log written in different colors of pen each week. I wasn’t concerned, other than pen made it impossible to erase or make corrections without scratching something out.

Apparently she became bored with pen, too, because two weeks ago she brought home the homework log with everything written in pink highlighter. Not terrible, but it wasn’t a fine point highlighter, so it was a little hard to read.

Last week, however, I think we reached an intervention point:

Cordy's homework log

“Yellow highlighter?” I asked as I squinted and tilted the page to try to read what was written. “Don’t you think that’s a little hard to read?”

“No, mom, it’s okay. I know what it says,” she responded dismissively.

“You do?” I asked incredulously. “You must have better eyes than me, because I can’t even read the dates at the top of the page.”

“Oh, don’t be silly,” she cooed. (At this point I’m reminded to be careful to not sound too condescending to her at any point, because she mimics the tone as well as the phrase. And clearly in this moment she was giving me the verbal equivalent of a pat on the head.) “See? That right there says December 3 to December 12.”

“Uh, Cordy? The dates for this week are supposed to be December 8 to December 12.”

She paused for a moment, looking at the log with her eyes wide. “RIGHT! 8! It says December 8. I said the wrong thing earlier. I meant 8.”

Sure you did, kid. I’m just thankful there weren’t a lot of assignments last week to decipher.

Filed Under: Cordy, kid logic, school ·


Dec 8, 2014

Thanksgiving Day Race Fail

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I realized I left everyone hanging about the outcome of my foot. My orthopedic doctor suggested an MRI to determine the cause of the pain on the outside edge of my foot, wanting to rule out a stress fracture of the fifth metatarsal. The good news is that there was no sign of any fractures. The bones looked healthy and strong. He said there wasn’t a lot of fluid or anything indicating a severe tendonitis, either, but that it’s still possible to have tendonitis without the swelling and fluid.

So the recommendation was that I wear the boot for another 2-3 weeks and do physical therapy twice a week. This meant missing out on the Hot Chocolate 5k that I was registered for, and it put the Flying Feather 4 mile race on Thanksgiving Day in jeopardy.

I just wanted to run again.

I called the physical therapist and set up twice a week appointments. The therapist found that my right foot didn’t have as much dorsiflexion as it should, and my right hip was really weak. He provided me with a list of exercises to complete at home, with a more rigorous set that I was assigned in the office.

I did my exercises without complaint, applied ice to my foot twice a day, and took my anti-inflammatories on schedule, focused on the end goal of running again. Anything that gets me closer to running again is a priority for me.

After a solid week in the boot, I was allowed to go without it for short bouts of walking. So walking around the house was fine. Going out to check the mail was okay. My foot felt better, probably because I wasn’t giving it a chance to flare up again most of the time. When it did start to hurt, I stopped and rested it.

By the second week, I wasn’t feeling any pain. I was given permission to go for longer stretches without the boot, told to keep it nearby and put it on if my foot began to hurt. I managed to walk around IKEA without it hurting, giving me confidence that the end was in sight. IKEA is not a small amount of walking – if I could walk around the store for an hour and a half, I could probably do anything else.

I still wanting to do the Flying Feather 4 mile race, though. Two days before the race, I was given permission by my physical therapist to do the race, but only if I walked it. I asked if I could try a couple of short run intervals (under a minute each), and he said I could try two, but only if I stopped immediately if it hurt to run. I agreed to these terms, since I had been walking without pain for days. I was sure it would be a breeze.

On Thanksgiving Day, I had second thoughts about the race. Not because of my foot, but because it was 28 degrees outside, with a strong wind, and it was starting to snow. I was determined to not let another race I was registered for slip past me, though, so I suited up in layers (finishing with a SparkleSkirt, of course) and stretched and stretched and stretched ahead of time, as ordered.

Flying Feather Four MilerNotice the gloves. I could have used two pairs, really.

When the race started, I wanted to take off in a run and never look back. But I walked for the first stretch until the crowd thinned out. I didn’t want to waste one run interval stuck in a pack of people shuffling along.

Near the back of the packIt was a little crowded at first.

Once I found a clearing, I started a slow jog. It was awesome! I was carefully controlling my speed, but it felt like I was gliding gracefully through the air with pixie dust trailing behind me. I’m sure I didn’t look like that – more like plodding along – but in my head I felt like a gazelle. It had been a month since my last attempt at running.

I switched back to a walk in under a minute – no need to force me there, since I was out of shape with cardio. There was no pain, everything felt good, and I continued on.

When I reached the first mile, I was thrilled to still have no pain. At mile two I mentally cheered that my feet weren’t failing me. I was doing this. I beat this tendonitis and could get back to my training.

And then half a mile later, I felt the first little shooting pain.

That little pain soon called in its friends, and by the time I reached mile 3, I couldn’t ignore the sharp stabbing with each step. But I was also way out on the course – with only a mile left, I didn’t want to be THAT person and ask the race staff to find someone to drive me to the end because all this walking had worn me out. I slowed my walking down and focused on the end goal.

During the last mile, I did have moments where it didn’t hurt. I’m guessing my feet were just numb from the cold and the effort. But just when I wondered if the pain was gone, it would come back. I was happy to cross the finish line and get my medal (and wine), but the smile was masking the pain I was experiencing.

Smile and wincesmiling thru the agony (and snow in my eyes)

I was utterly defeated realizing how much my foot was hurting again. After a month off, nothing had really changed, it hurt just as much as before, and I was left wondering how long it will take to get better. I spent Thanksgiving dinner limping around my aunt’s house, and applying ice to my foot.

My physical therapist was not happy with me for not stopping when the pain started. No surprise there, and I’ll agree I was a stubborn fool with that. But last Monday I also had a follow-up appointment with my orthopedic doctor. I described the entire experience to him, he looked at my foot again, poked around a little…and then determined that I needed to see someone else.

He’s sending me to the top foot specialist in their practice tomorrow. He knows my running goals, and said he doesn’t want to treat it conservatively again for another 4-6 weeks to then risk the injury coming right back again. The X-rays and MRI didn’t show anything significant, which makes it more of a puzzle, so he wants their top foot doc to have a look and diagnose the old-fashioned way: by physical exam. Apparently for many unusual foot injuries, an extensive physical exam is the best (and only, in some cases) way to get to the source of the problem when it’s done by someone with advanced training.

Then came the next surprise: no more boot, and keep walking on it all I want. In order for the new doctor to have the best chance at determining the problem, I have to still be in pain. Resting it makes it feel better – as evidenced by weeks of it feeling great when I was babying it – so I need to make sure it still hurts when I see him on Tuesday. This made traveling to BlogHerPRO last week much easier without a boot to bring along, but I still didn’t enjoy hobbling down the hallways.

I really just want to run again. The Enchanted 10K at Walt Disney World is two and a half months away, and I want to be ready for it. I even have an amazing running costume being made for me that I want to wear for this race.

I’m hoping for a solid answer and an aggressive treatment plan tomorrow so that I can get back to training as soon as possible.

Filed Under: me me me, ow, running ·


Nov 29, 2014

Nine Lessons from Nine Years of Blogging

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A week ago, I was looking at the date and thinking November 22 should mean something to me. It felt like a date I needed to remember. After some thought (and looking through my archives), I realized it was the date that I had started this blog.

Woo! Happy blogiversary (or blog anniversary, or blog birthday, or whatever you want to call it) to me!

Yes, I started my blog in the pre-Twitter, pre-Facebook, pre-Instagram days. Actually, I had a LiveJournal blog for a few years before this one. Not quite a blog pioneer, but I was quick to jump on that next round of wagons heading down the dusty Internet trails before they were paved over to become super highways with outlet malls and flashing neon billboards.

I feel like I should have some kind of wisdom to pass on for having blogged this long. Wisdom I’m not so sure about, but I can share some of my observations over the years.

Nine things I’ve learned in nine years of blogging

1. Being a big blog is nice, but not necessary. Some might argue that if I’ve been writing here for nine years and still haven’t made it big, I must be a failure. (No really, I’ve had people tell me something similar to that.) I’m not regularly featured on top sites, I have no book deal – just nine years of a little blog. But being “big” wasn’t why I started my blog, so I can’t be upset with the results.

I started my blog when Cordy was just over a year old, and I found myself seeking out other parents for camaraderie and to learn from. Most of our friends were childless, and those with kids lived out of town. But the internet was full of other parents sharing their stories – rather than only being a regular commenter on all of their sites, I decided to carve out a little corner of the ‘net to share my stories as well. No one made serious money from their mom blog back then.

Nine years later, I make enough from my ad revenue and the occasional sponsored post to cover my hosting, my site monitoring, and if I’m really lucky, a conference fee each year. I’m still small, and that’s okay.

2. Friendship knows no geographical boundaries on the Internet. I have friends that I see maybe once a year at best, and yet when we do see each other in person, it feels like we hang out together every week. I’ll be the first to tell my kids to be cautious about people they meet online, because people can give a false idea of who they are, but these are time-tested (and IRL-tested) friends. They’re people I’ve known online for years and years, shared highs and lows with, and people who, in-person, are just as friendly and supportive as they are online.

I’m truly thankful for all of the people I have the privilege to meet and be friends with that I might never had met if I hadn’t put myself out there online with my blog.

Friendship

3. Do as I say, not as I do. In nine years, I’ve learned a lot about how to be a successful blogger. Just don’t expect to see me put it all into practice. I’ve read so many posts on successful blogging, attended countless conferences and taken pages and pages of notes. You’d think I’d have everything down to a science by this point. But…I’m a lousy example of good blogging. I’ve coached others on how to start a blog and grow its audience, and have seen those blogs grow bigger than my blog quickly, yet can’t seem to follow my own advice.

DisorganizedYou could say I’m a little disorganized.

The difference is that my blog isn’t my job, and in the mix of work, family, homework, therapy appointments, etc., blogging is often the item that gets pushed aside to make room for everything else. I have a long to-do list for this blog, and an equally long list of post ideas I want to eventually get to, but I’m always limited by time and energy.

It frustrates me at times, but I try to look at the positive: at least it’ll always be here for me when I have the time and energy to put into it. I’ll never be bored with blogging when I’m always wanting to do more with it. In the meantime, I’m always willing to share what I know with others who want to start.

4. I’ve learned a lot, but I still don’t know what I’m doing. This may seem counter to what I just wrote in #3, but it really isn’t. With how quickly technology and best practices change, it’s impossible to keep up on everything unless it’s your full-time job. Yes, parts of it are my full-time job (I can talk ad viewability and mobile options for hours) but I can’t possibly have the time to keep up on all of the ideal times to post and what topics are trending and what the proper spacing is between sponsored posts. I still have a lot to learn, and that’s okay.

5. Success is random. I know this isn’t true for everyone, and some bloggers work hard for their success. I can write long, heartfelt posts that barely get noticed. But then sometimes you write a post about a creepy Furby, never intending it to get much attention, and find you have 1,000+ pageviews on the day after Christmas. (I feel your pain, other parents. I really do.) If required, I couldn’t reproduce that kind of successful post on demand – I’m really not very good at humor when I try.

Time to work

6. It feels good to make a difference for someone else. Probably my favorite part of blogging is when I share a story of something that happened to me, or a solution I found for something, and have a reader comment or email me to say, “That happened to me, too. I’m glad to know I’m not alone.” Which is really the whole reason I started blogging – to know I wasn’t alone in the parenting struggles I was experiencing. Or school transportation struggles, as I saw last year.

Most recently, the post about developing bursitis from a poorly administered flu shot has opened my eyes as to how big of a problem this is. So many other people have had a similar experience, and my story has helped them know it isn’t all in their heads, and given them ideas on what steps to take next. That’s powerful.

7. You have to accept that you never know who will find your blog. It can be fun to look at your site stats and see where everyone is coming from. Like when I saw several visits from the City of Columbus to my blog last October. (Tell me again that “random” tax audit was unrelated to my position against last year’s levy, Columbus? *waves hi*)

Hi there

Over the years, I’ve become more aware that anyone can find my blog, and so it’s wise to carefully consider what I put here. I’ve made some revisions to older material to avoid some embarrassment to my kids (like removing a photo of a bare baby butt), and I’m more cautious with what I choose to share. I can still cringe in embarrassment over some of my earlier posts, but overall I’m content with what others may find here. Even my kids’ teachers.

8. Blogging can be the start of great things. While my blog may not be big, I can’t deny that it has led to some big opportunities. I’ve been to the Johnson & Johnson headquarters and heard from top execs, saw how Cheryl’s cookies are made, gone on tours of the Ohio dairy and beef industries, experienced the sights of Lake Erie and many happy visits to Cedar Point, and even went to Disneyland for the first time.

If I hadn’t started this blog, I wouldn’t have met the people who helped me navigate the world of autism when Cordy was diagnosed and helped me be the best possible advocate for her. And without my blog I wouldn’t have found the awesome job I have now, with the best coworkers ever.

9. Just as people grow and change, blogs grow and change. And that’s okay. Nine years ago, I was an exhausted mom of a toddler. I’m still exhausted, but I’ve changed a lot since that time, and as a result much of what I write about has changed, too. I think it’s only natural for a blog to grow and change with the author. I write more about running, education and family travel now, and less about the embarrassing antics of my kids.

As Cordy and Mira have grown older, I’m finding it more of a challenge to share their stories in a way that hopefully won’t be used against them by their peers as they grow into teens. They are both aware of this blog and they generally get a say in the posts I write. If they don’t want something shared, I won’t share it. Luckily, both are usually okay with anything I write about them. Maybe they’ll start their own blogs someday.

I’ve noticed an ebb and flow with my writing, too. Sometimes I have a lot to say, and sometimes I have long stretches between posts. I still usually have a lot to say in those moments, but I’m too busy to find time to write. My drafts folder is a little overgrown at the moment, and it’s been hard to give myself permission to let it go – I feel guilty if I’m not writing regular posts, which is silly. I’ll get to those posts eventually.

Cone of shameI’m working on letting go of the shame when I don’t write for awhile.

Lately, I’ve also been struggling with the name of my blog, considering (for the umpteenth time) re-branding to a new name that better reflects how I’ve grown and changed. I’m nearly beyond the “mommy” days now – even now, Mira only calls me “mommy” when she wants something, and otherwise it’s “mom.” It may happen, it may not – I’m sure I’ll debate the idea in my head for months to come.

Either way, I still enjoy blogging and will keep on keeping on for the foreseeable future. Thanks to everyone who has stopped by to read, left a comment, or shared a post. I will never take for granted the honor of having someone choose to read my words. I’d still be here writing if no one stopped by, but having readers along for the ride makes it so much more rewarding.

Love to all

Filed Under: me me me, memories ·


Nov 7, 2014

Stopped In My Tracks

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At the beginning of October, I had officially caught the running bug. I mean, I had been running for awhile, but had finally reached that point where I looked forward to lacing up my running shoes. I wanted to get out on the road and leave any stress behind for 40-60 minutes.

And then in mid-October, while out for a typical mid-week short run, I noticed a pain on the outside of my right foot. I usually have little aches during a run, and most of the time they go away after a few minutes. It wasn’t super painful, so I continued on for the last half mile or so. When I got home, I took off my shoes and noticed that the outside of my foot and my heel were still hurting, so I stretched as I usually do, and then grabbed an ice pack to ice down the sore spots.

The next morning, my foot still hurt. I decided to play it safe and stick with the RICE protocol until it was feeling better. (Rest, Ice, Compression, Elevation) I tried to run a couple of times in the next two weeks, but each time that pain came back.

Late last week, I noticed that I couldn’t even walk around much without my foot hurting more and more. I finally gave in on Saturday and visited an urgent care, where they took x-rays and recommended I see a specialist. In the meantime, I was to wear an oh-so-sexy black and white shoe and stay off my feet as much as possible.

Injured foot shoe

Yesterday, I saw the specialist. Even though the urgent care said the x-rays looked good, this doctor was less convinced. He saw a shadow on my fifth metatarsal that could be hinting at a stress fracture. To complicate matters, the area of my foot that hurts the most is the exact spot for a common type of stress fracture, but also a common spot for peroneal tendonitis. Which is it? We’re not sure.

X-ray of injury around 5th metatarsalSay hello to my inner foot!

I explained to the doctor that I wanted to run again as soon as possible. No – I needed to run again as soon as possible. The last three weeks have been torture. I finally settled into an activity that I really enjoy, and now I can’t do it. I can feel my legs tightening up, itching to hit the pavement. I put shoes on and I want to break out into a run.

And my mind is handling this poorly, too. I’m cranky. I’m short tempered. I’m depressed. I had found that running was a fantastic way to get rid of stress, and now that stress is trapped again. When I’m frustrated at the end of a long day, I want to go run to blow off steam. Oh wait, I can’t.

Recovering from an injury

We don’t know for sure if it’s a stress fracture or tendonitis, so the doctor recommended an MRI to get a better look at what’s going on and (hopefully) rule out an existing or imminent stress fracture. Once we have a better look at what’s going on, the doctor said he’ll put together an aggressive treatment plan to get me running again.

If it’s just tendonitis, I’ll likely go to physical therapy for several weeks, and could possibly be running again in a few weeks. Or maybe just walking. I’d even be okay with walking if my foot was strong enough to get me through the 4-mile race I have on Thanksgiving Day. I can keep up the required pace by walking. (Did I mention I’m registered for two races in the next three weeks? All that money may be gone now.)

If it’s a stress fracture…well, we’ll hope it’s not. The options for how to handle that aren’t pleasant, and most guarantee I won’t be running again for months. If that happens, I’m going to need an antidepressant prescription with my treatment plan.

My MRI was this morning, and we’ll go over the results on Monday. In the meantime, my footwear has received an upgrade:

Injury bootThis really looks like an early Iron Man boot prototype.

It’s too bad this couldn’t have been the left foot. I can’t drive in this boot, so any driving involves getting to the car, taking the boot off (which is a multi-step process), switching to a shoe, driving to my destination, and then putting the boot back on before getting out of the car. Which limits my desire to want to drive anywhere unless it’s absolutely necessary. But we’ll really hope this doesn’t require a cast, or I won’t be able to drive at all for weeks.

So for the first time in my life, I’m cheering for tendonitis. It’s the lesser of the injuries, and would be a welcome diagnosis compared to the hell of a stress fracture.

We’ll know more on Monday. Hope for tendonitis.

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Filed Under: me me me, running ·