Do you ever get the feeling that your doctor just doesn't want to deal with your problem? I did something to my knee shortly after Evie was born. Now, it doesn't sound like anything, I know. My feet were on a footstool covered with an afghan. I turned my right foot 90° (from straight up to pointing right) and my right knee exploded in pain. That's it - no great stress, no fall, etc.
Now, this was in May and I'll grant you, I should've gone to the doctor before this but going to the doctor is such a pain (remember, I have to haul a 3 year old and an infant with me) and, honestly, I figured it would get better. And it did. A little. But then it got worse. Then a little better, then a little worse. Then I had a bunch of stairs to climb for church a couple weeks ago and it's been bad since then. So I finally hauled my ass in.
She poked it, said she didn't think anything was broken and asked who my insurance company was. Then made a face. Seems my insurance company doesn't like to pay for MRIs. So she sent me for an x-ray. Which was kind of interesting as it's all digital and I haven't had that kind of x-ray in 20 years. But nothing's broken. What shows of the joint on the x-rays "looks good".
So I ask about an MRI. I get referred by the nurse to the receptionist who "handles" that sort of thing. She doesn't answer; I leave a message. Haven't heard diddly back.
Kind of don't expect to.
Meanwhile, my knee has me hobbling like a little ol' lady. Makes going up and down the stairs with an infant kind of interesting.
Oh, but one good thing, I was (finally) able to reschedule the mammogram they wouldn't let me do on the 16th because I had Evie with me. Given the family history, not something I ought to be missing.
Sep 30, 2008
Sep 18, 2008
Fairy Tales Can Come True, It Can Happen To You
Last night, I achieved something I've dreamed of since I was about 8. I started my paid church singing gig with a pot luck supper and productive rehearsal.
I was damn nervous going in but so I always am when faced with bunches of people I don't know. (People scare the shit out of me.) Fortunately, the music director is energetic and very nice and the people, while not as energetic - which would be difficult!, are very pleasant and very welcoming and willing to answer my logistical questions (parking validation, robes, rehearsal times, etc.).
Having sung in a Catholic church for the last couple years (which I am still doing), it's nice to be back to "real" music. Actually, our music director at P&A does try to work in some real music and we've a lovely Palestrina piece we're working on so that's not really fair. Still, music in the latter day Catholic church is, predominantly, schlock (which I've always thought is a real shame - they have such a wealth of beautiful, beautiful music, centuries worth, for Pete's sake! - and they do schlock). Tthe congregationalists are a little more classical. It's also nice to be singing SATB again. Actually, with singing both at P&A and Center Church, I get the best of both worlds this way - I'm singing SSAA (women only) at P&A.
All in all, it was a really positive experience - and, other than the fact that I have to then work until 2 a.m. to make up for starting at 10 p.m., I think I'm going to enjoy this.
P.S. I admit it, I'm doing the Achieved My Dream of Being a Professional Musician Happy
Dance in my office chair this morning!!
I was damn nervous going in but so I always am when faced with bunches of people I don't know. (People scare the shit out of me.) Fortunately, the music director is energetic and very nice and the people, while not as energetic - which would be difficult!, are very pleasant and very welcoming and willing to answer my logistical questions (parking validation, robes, rehearsal times, etc.).
Having sung in a Catholic church for the last couple years (which I am still doing), it's nice to be back to "real" music. Actually, our music director at P&A does try to work in some real music and we've a lovely Palestrina piece we're working on so that's not really fair. Still, music in the latter day Catholic church is, predominantly, schlock (which I've always thought is a real shame - they have such a wealth of beautiful, beautiful music, centuries worth, for Pete's sake! - and they do schlock). Tthe congregationalists are a little more classical. It's also nice to be singing SATB again. Actually, with singing both at P&A and Center Church, I get the best of both worlds this way - I'm singing SSAA (women only) at P&A.
All in all, it was a really positive experience - and, other than the fact that I have to then work until 2 a.m. to make up for starting at 10 p.m., I think I'm going to enjoy this.
P.S. I admit it, I'm doing the Achieved My Dream of Being a Professional Musician Happy
Dance in my office chair this morning!!
Sep 6, 2008
Slipping Through My Fingers
"Schoolbag in hand, she leaves home in the early morning,
waving goodbye with an absent-minded smile."
My baby started preschool this week. How can she possibly be old enough?? She's going 2 days a week all day (9:30 - 2:30). The night before , I lay out her clothes and pack her lunch. They want me to pack 2 snacks and a meal - Katie's always been a grazer so I'm not sure how this going to work. How very odd to be packing her lunch! Cheese sandwich, carrots and ranch dip... goldfish crackers... Hmmm... water, I guess. She's not much of a water drinker but I'm not sure how they'd feel about me packing a bottle of milk even with the coldpack. (I did wind up doing that on the second day and it was fine, btw.)
The big day arrives. I drag my sorry-work-nights-ass out of bed at 7:30, drink my diet smoothie, roust her at 8, get her dressed and fixed for breakfast, then roust the baby (and it goes against my grain to wake a sleeping baby), get her dressed and fixed for breakfast, and then it's suddenly time to go. Time to go take my sweet (mostly), innocent (mostly), little (mostly) one and leave her in some stranger's care. Ack!
All dressed up - heading to the car. We're both (slightly shakily) optimistic. She just so darned cute. I'm a little frustrated that the nametag they want her to wear won't stay stuck.
We had to wait outside for a few minutes among a crowd of other excited/nervous/anxious kids/parents/grandparents/caregivers. They don't open the doors until 9:30.
She knows several of the kids in her class from various town toddler classes, etc. She's ever so calm as we sign in, hang her backpack and her lunch up, show her the bathroom. One little girl, whose mother has already left, is sobbing and won't be consoled even as Katie tries to hug her. (The girl's brother, a year older - thus having a year of experience under his belt, has clearly already written her off and is off playing with friends from the last year.) Katie gets distracted by a puzzle. I ask if she has to go to the bathroom before Mama leaves. Nope. Ok, then, I guess we need to go now. I'm ok. I'm not crying. A bit shaky but not crying. John and I and the baby leave without fanfare and head to our cars. One mom who left after us and who is a family friend said, "she looked around at where she last saw you and said 'Mommy? Daddy?!', then looked around the room and said it again, more anxiously, then turned to me and said 'pick me up?'" Her daughter is a first year too.
"...I watch her go with a surge of that well-known sadness
and I have to sit down for a while..."
I was ok during the day though it was rather surreal. I got some work-work done. I took care of the baby. The time to pick her up came quickly. We got there a couple minutes early. All the kids were playing outside and we had to walk around the playyard to get to the pick up gate. She didn't notice at all, so engrossed was she! Ok, now the tears really did threaten. I was pretty choked up.
"... the feeling that I'm losing her forever
and without really entering her world..."
"...Then when she's gone
There's that odd melancholy feeling
And a sense of guilt I can't deny...
I was going to be this great mom whose kid could read and count before preschool, the one whose kid spoke German as well as English, etc. God, where does the time go?
"Well, some of those we did, but most we didn't,
and why I just don't know.
... Sometimes I wish that I could freeze the picture
And save it from the funny tricks of time, slipping through my fingers..."
waving goodbye with an absent-minded smile."
My baby started preschool this week. How can she possibly be old enough?? She's going 2 days a week all day (9:30 - 2:30). The night before , I lay out her clothes and pack her lunch. They want me to pack 2 snacks and a meal - Katie's always been a grazer so I'm not sure how this going to work. How very odd to be packing her lunch! Cheese sandwich, carrots and ranch dip... goldfish crackers... Hmmm... water, I guess. She's not much of a water drinker but I'm not sure how they'd feel about me packing a bottle of milk even with the coldpack. (I did wind up doing that on the second day and it was fine, btw.)
The big day arrives. I drag my sorry-work-nights-ass out of bed at 7:30, drink my diet smoothie, roust her at 8, get her dressed and fixed for breakfast, then roust the baby (and it goes against my grain to wake a sleeping baby), get her dressed and fixed for breakfast, and then it's suddenly time to go. Time to go take my sweet (mostly), innocent (mostly), little (mostly) one and leave her in some stranger's care. Ack!
All dressed up - heading to the car. We're both (slightly shakily) optimistic. She just so darned cute. I'm a little frustrated that the nametag they want her to wear won't stay stuck.
We had to wait outside for a few minutes among a crowd of other excited/nervous/anxious kids/parents/grandparents/caregivers. They don't open the doors until 9:30.
She knows several of the kids in her class from various town toddler classes, etc. She's ever so calm as we sign in, hang her backpack and her lunch up, show her the bathroom. One little girl, whose mother has already left, is sobbing and won't be consoled even as Katie tries to hug her. (The girl's brother, a year older - thus having a year of experience under his belt, has clearly already written her off and is off playing with friends from the last year.) Katie gets distracted by a puzzle. I ask if she has to go to the bathroom before Mama leaves. Nope. Ok, then, I guess we need to go now. I'm ok. I'm not crying. A bit shaky but not crying. John and I and the baby leave without fanfare and head to our cars. One mom who left after us and who is a family friend said, "she looked around at where she last saw you and said 'Mommy? Daddy?!', then looked around the room and said it again, more anxiously, then turned to me and said 'pick me up?'" Her daughter is a first year too.
"...I watch her go with a surge of that well-known sadness
and I have to sit down for a while..."
I was ok during the day though it was rather surreal. I got some work-work done. I took care of the baby. The time to pick her up came quickly. We got there a couple minutes early. All the kids were playing outside and we had to walk around the playyard to get to the pick up gate. She didn't notice at all, so engrossed was she! Ok, now the tears really did threaten. I was pretty choked up.
"... the feeling that I'm losing her forever
and without really entering her world..."
"...Then when she's gone
There's that odd melancholy feeling
And a sense of guilt I can't deny...
I was going to be this great mom whose kid could read and count before preschool, the one whose kid spoke German as well as English, etc. God, where does the time go?
"Well, some of those we did, but most we didn't,
and why I just don't know.
... Sometimes I wish that I could freeze the picture
And save it from the funny tricks of time, slipping through my fingers..."
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