Flamenco dancing

I’m never going to Flamenco dance*. I had that realization yesterday as I was driving down the street.  I was listening to Rusted Root on the radio, which somehow made me think about the time I saw Ozomatli play a free show, which then led me to thinking about Spanish guitar, which led to flamenco.  This thought process took maybe 45 seconds start to finish.

And that’s when it hit me.  I’ll never flamenco dance.  Now, before you start wondering if I was big on that PP (pre-paralysis) (also, are you wondering why I used an abbreviation, when I immediately wrote it out?  I’m wondering that myself….), the answer is: not really.  It’s not like I had a huge bucket list and flamenco dancing was on it. I’ve always appreciated the beautiful dance.  It’s strong and powerful and seductive without being an outright sexy (read: gyrating) style.  It’s beautiful and poetic.  And I’ll never do it.

To answer another burning question, I’ve never really been a good dancer in general.  I probably should have gotten into line dancing when I had the chance, because that was about my ability level.  I’m good at memorization, slightly lacking in rhythm.  Most of my dancing occurred in my apartment when I was single, and consisted of twirling to 70’s greats like Joni Mitchell or Janis Joplin.  Twirling just seemed to fit the la-de-da, la-de-da-da’s of Me and Bobbyb McGee.  I was also known to mosh around to Rancid.  But something with technique and skill?  That was not in my wheelhouse.

But now I’ll never be able to try.

And before you get all “Stop being a Debbie Downer” on me, realize that I’m overly positive about my situation.  There is so much I can do.  And there is so much that I do do [12 year old sense of humor break: excuse me while I laugh at that for a few seconds].  And I’m grateful for all of that.

It’s just a sad and shocking realization when something is irrevocably taken off the table.

 

While writing this, my snooping husband looked over my shoulder and asked “What’s Flamerco dancing?”  I responded “Um, you mean flamenco?”  He replied “You’re far away, I couldn’t read it.  What is flamenco dancing?”  So, I realized that maybe not everyone knows what flamenco dancing is.  You know, people who have been living under a rock.  So I’ve added a video of a beautiful dance.  You’re welcome.

Hell on Wheels

I have a friend who is a fellow defense attorney [I know, I know…”friend” and “attorney” don’t usually belong in the same sentence. But he’s actually pretty cool.]  who has restarted a group email list for all of the defense attorneys in the area. The purpose is to support each other through problems and through victories. My friend, let’s call him Snappy Dresser (because he is always very impeccably dressed) puts a ton of work into his emails. When someone has a victory, he doesnt just say “so and so won such and such case.” The emails involve a superhero-esque name and backstory which turn into the saga of what great feat was accomplished. Yes, he could probably use a hobby or a dog, but I actually enjoy reading his emails.

So, the reason for my blog. I had a small victory in court recently where I got a case dismissed. Nothing huge, but he wanted to write it up. He told me to choose my Nickname and sent me a list of really great heroic names. I liked “Black widow”. I liked “the Assassin” [mostly because it says “ass” twice and I have the humor of a 12 year old boy.] I liked “Rogue” mostly because it’s applicable. But none screamed “ME!”

I sent him a text. “Can I add a new one? Hell on Wheels.” I received a text back. “Hell on Wheels. Seriously?” Of course I was serious! I appreciate a good, strong wheelchair reference or joke whenever possible! He called me. He was worried people would think he came up with it and give him a hard time. I convinced him it was a good idea. He said he was forwarding any emails to me to handle if people gave him a hard time about it.

The email went out with my new nickname solidified in black and white, and with the caveat that I chose the name. And I am so okay with all of that! Personally, I think it’s a strong, fierce name. And as people who really know me well would agree, it’s pretty fitting!

 

Fear, fear, go away

I’m not sure if I’ve admitted this on here before but I have a confession: I used to be afraid of my kid.  Before the Little Mister was born, I was wrapped up in how exciting it was going to be to have a kid.  I pictured all the fun adventures we would go on.  I pictured having a little mini-me who would play games and laugh at my jokes.  I pictured the little guy who I’d get to dress in super cute clothes and who would justify my Ninja Turtle obsession.  Life was going to be good with the little dude.

And then, after our long journey, he was here.  Before I knew it, this slimey little guy was in my arms and I didn’t know what to do.  I’d barely ever held a baby before that moment.  And now, in a matter of seconds, the nurses took this kid and put him in my arms and said “Congratulations” before packing it up and leaving the room.  OK, it wasn’t quite like that, but it felt like that.  After all the waiting, he was in my arms and I was now responsible for a human life.

I had no idea the amount of love I would feel for this dude the instant he was born.  Or the amount of fear.  When we got home from the hospital the hubs was only home for a few days before he went back to work.  And then it was just me and him for a large part of the day.  We had (still have) an awesome nanny who helped in the mornings.  She helped take care of him, did his laundry, changed his bed, did so much every day.  But then in the afternoons, it was me and the Little Mister.  And that scared the living daylights out of me. I wanted to do as much as possible with him because I wanted him to get used to having a mom in a wheelchair.  That was hard, of course.  I had all the normal concerns of a new mom, but also a few extras which apply to mom’s with mobility disabilities: holding him while moving being a main one.

There are several things which would hurt my feelings.  When he was real young, he liked to be held while a person was standing when he was crying.  That obviously couldn’t happen with me.  It broke my heart when I couldn’t get him to stop crying and his dad, nanny or grandma would grab him and walk around and he was suddenly content.  Or, sometimes when I was home alone with him and I had to transfer from my wheelchair to the sofa, and I set him down on the sofa to wait while I transferred and he would just look at me and cry like I was abandoning.  I tried to explain to him that I can’t hold him and just stand up like other people can.  But he was stubborn a baby and didn’t understand.  He just felt severe separation anxiety in that 45 seconds of being alone.

It got to the point where I was literally scared to be home alone with him.  It was hard.  It was exhausting.  It was emotionally draining.

But then things began to change.  As he got older, he started to understand a little more.  I would wake him up from his nap and bring him out to the family room for a post-nap drink and snack.  I would put him down in the chair so I could transfer.  Until about 14 or 15 months he would cry when I set him down.  But then, I started making a game of it.  And after a few times of “throwing him” into the chair (I would lift him in a high arc from my lap to the chair and make a falling sound) he thought it was hilarious.  No more tears.  And now that he’s walking, I can put him on the ground where he waits by the chair for me to transfer.  After I transfer into a chair in the family room, he raises his arms for me to pick him up because he knows it’s milk and snack time on my lap.  No more tears [from either of us].

He’s also gotten so good at going out in public with me.  I was so scared to go places alone with him.  It’s easy to drown in the “what ifs”.  What if he won’t sit still?  What if he has a diaper accident and there’s not an accessible bathroom?  What if people look at us funny?  But I guess you can’t really give in to all the doubt and fear.  Today, Little Mister and I had an awesome adventure.  We had an entire morning to ourselves as his nanny had the day off and the Hubs was in meetings.  So Little Mister and I went to Hobby Lobby where we spent an hour just looking at everything.  He was loving the bead aisle, with all the colorful, shiny things to look at and different textures to feel.  Then we went to the mall where he played in the soft foam play area.  His idea of playing in public is often just standing there watching all the other kids run around.  He’s a people watcher, like his mama.  When he was done, he walked to the exit and tried to leave.  I tried to usher him back in several times, but he was done.  He sits on my lap so nicely that I didn’t even wrap him while we rolled around the store.  It wasn’t until we were exiting to the parking lot that I tied him back to me.

I don’t think there will ever be a time that parenting from a chair will be easy for me.  I think the obstacles will just change.  But I am learning that he and I will both adapt.  We are learning how to get through this all together.  I’m just so lucky that Little Mister is such a great kid and so willing to learn.  He’s too young to really get it yet.  He just knows that I’m his mama and this is our normal.  And I’m glad that I don’t let the fear overwhelm me.  Because he is my mini-me who loves to play games and laughs at my jokes.  And I’m glad because we had such a fun adventure today and I look forward to all the fun mom-son adventures to come!

Trainers are evil

I had a major revelation today when I was at the gym: trainers are really evil.  OK, I’ll walk you through my revelation.

  1. Most people have jobs that make other people’s life easier.  I’m an attorney.  My job is to help people figure out their legal troubles and fix problems for them.  I’m a fixer.  My brother is an accountant.  He job is to help people understand the million page tax code.  The hubs is a teacher.  He’s there to help kids understand Theatre and Woodshop in school.  Chefs make eating easier by cooking for you.  Mechanics make driving easier by fixing your car so you don’t have to.  Doctors fix your medical problems so you have a happier, healthier life.  All these jobs have that thread of commonality between them.
  2. Trainers go through their own programs to learn the body: how it works, how the muscles move and react, how it all goes together.  They learn (mine at least did- not sure if it’s true of all, but I’m assuming it is) nutrition and how foods can boost your power, strength and energy.  They are well versed in how to help people lose weight and get in shape.
  3. Trainers then use their knowledge to make you hurt.  They take something that starts easy and make it harder.  Oh, you can lift that weight?  Give me 20 more at a heavier weight. They are pleased when you are hurting.  They yearn for you to sweat, groan, collapse in sheer agony.  They’re not happy when you’re doing well.  They try to make you suffer and aren’t satisfied until you do.  They’re job is literally to make things harder for you.

And that, my dear friends, proves my point.  Trainers are evil.

Getting rid of the lazies

I love working out.  I think that I have made that clear over the past year since I joined my gym.  I mean, maybe I don’t love it as much as I love shopping or watching TV.  Or eating.  But, I do really love it.  I love the feeling I get after a good workout.  I love the soreness that I get after a good workout.  And I love buying workout clothes because again, I love shopping.

But, it’s easy for me to fall into a rut and get super lazy.  Last week was one of those times.  I’m not entirely sure why I was so lazy.  I just had absolutely no interest in working out.  I use the excuse that I was busy with work, which I was.  However, I still managed to find time for all the other activities I mentioned (i.e. shopping, watching TV.  And don’t get me started on the cake I had over the weekend!  Yum!!).  I just wasn’t feeling like the gym.

The cool thing about Ninja Trainer is that he didn’t fight me.  He strongly suggested that I get my lazy butt into the gym, but didn’t give me a super hard time about it.  I think he understood that I needed to push myself.  He can only do so much.

I decided to get over the lazies and get back to the gym this morning.  Since I’d taken the time off, he went kind of easy on me. (So he says anyway.  My sore arms beg to differ!!)  But, I can tell that he wasn’t pushing me.  I know when he’s pushing me because I can see the excitement in his eyes when I’m going above and beyond.  And when I’m really killing it, I get a loud “Woo!” Needless to say* I did not get a “Woo” today.  And I know that I didn’t deserve one.  I know that I didn’t kill it.  I did do well. (See above about sore arms!!) But did I do my best?  Well, I guess my best after being lazy for over a week.  But that’s not as good as I can do.  I need to not be lazy.  Someone once told me that you never regret going to workout but you will regret not going.  And that’s true.  I know that I’m going to get lazy again.  But I have to push past it and remember how good it feels after!  And I love seeing results, even if other people can’t really see what I see.  And I want to keep pushing so I keep getting the exclamations from Ninja Trainer, because then I know I’m killing it!

Squint hard and you can see some defintion!

Back at it

The past month has been rough.  March is already my least favorite month but this past one was one for the books (though technically it started in the end of February).  I took a few beatings and wasn’t sure how I was going to come out on the other side.*  It started with my broken toe.  The mysterious, no clue how or when it happened, why do I not have feeling but can still tell that this thing hurts like heck, broken toe. That was annoying.  Then, the next day I hurt my back at the gym.  I did a motion which involved twisting which is a huge no-no in my spinal cord.  And that spinal cord made sure that I knew how pissed off at me it was.  It took about a week and a half for me to stop crying in pain.  Then it was more of a I-got-punched-inside-my-spine ache.  Then it became a dull pain.  And then, one day, it was gone.  The Hubs asked how I was feeling and I realized that I wasn’t.  There wasn’t pain there.  In the midst of all the broken painness, I also caught an ear infection.  That sucked too.  A lot.  The ear hurt, and the antibiotics they put me on made me throw up a lot.

But, now it’s April and I’m pain free, earache free, bones mended back together and healthy.  And as of a week and a half ago, I’m a contender for a clinical trial on the ReWalk.  If I get into this trial, I’ll have the bionic legs for a year and help prove to insurance companies the health benefits of having them.  To say that I’m beyond stoked is an understatement!!  I have my physical therapy evaluation next week.  So, having been out of service for the past month, and with it being a beautiful new month, I decided it was time to get back to the gym.

For the first time since joining this gym I was nervous to go in.  I’m a bit gun shy now that I may hurt myself again.  But, I had an appointment for training with Ninja Trainer so I had to go in.  And I have faith in his experience in training and I know he won’t let me overexert myself.  We had a talk about my fears and about how I just have to be careful, mindful and vocal.  The hour flew by!  We did a very thorough warm-up and did a lot of slow training on various machines.  You’d think that slow movements and lower weight would be easier.  And if I could raise my arms, I would slap you in the face.  My arms caught fire before out session ended.  It was amazing!!

And my biggest fear (that I would lose all progress that I had made) flew out the window.  I still retained a lot of the strength that GunShow had helped me gain.  Ninja Trainer pointed out the definition in several of my muscle groups, which made me feel better.  I was also worried that my dedication would be gone, but I’m so stoked to be back in the gym that I found my motivation to make healthy changes all around!  NT is going to give me meal planning guidelines to help me meet all of my goals.  His training, combined with eating healthy and *fingers crossed!!!!* the ReWalk could be everything I need to make some HUGE improvements!  And I did promise my gym friends that I would try to walk again so they could be the gym who got the paralyzed girl walking.

Cheers to picking back up and moving forward even stronger!

*It wasn’t all terrible. I did get to spend a lot more time with my Little Mister and do a ton of fun things like park play dates with other kids. I think that little baby is what kept me from really going off the deep end.

Setbacks Suck!

I never pictured myself as a person who would be emotional and upset when not able to go to the gym.  But, as I sat in the office at the gym this morning freezing my account for a month and crying to Ninja Trainer about how scared I am to lose all the progress that I made, I realize how much working out had become a part of me.  I’ve been putting so much effort into training.  And getting stronger.  And making progress.  I’m proud of all the work I have put into getting stronger.  I’m proud of pushing myself and seeing strength in my legs that I had thought were betraying me.  I’m proud when I sometimes catch a glance of my shoulders in the mirror and see how they’re getting defined.  I’m proud when one of the trainers tells me that I put in good work.

But I pushed myself last week when I knew better.  My back started to hurt really bad, but I pushed that aside and kept going.  And since then, I’ve been paying the price.  My neurosurgeon called me into his office for an emergency MRI.  Luckily he said there’s nothing in my spine which made him feel the need to cut me open.  So, in that sense I feel overwhelmingly relieved.  But, he also said that I sprained my spine and no working out for a month.  If I start to feel better, then I can go back earlier.  So I am going to start at the pool next week and try to loosen things up in a safe manner.  And while that is nice, I’m so worried about losing everything that I’ve made.  And I’m worried that if I do get back to the gym that I will lose the motivation which I’ve built up.  I know that I need to rest my back.  And I know I should be super relieved that I didn’t do more damage and that I don’t need to get cut open.  But I’m going to be sad for a minute and acknowledge the fact that setbacks suck.