What's up Doc?

You know what? I can honestly say I have no idea what to blog about today. I have a few things I could have a moan about but this week nothing funny happened. I guess I must be losing my sense of humor. So I’m thinking I’ll just tell you about my horrible week.

It starts off ok on Monday then comes Tuesday and that’s when it starts to go downhill. I have a physical therapy appointment on Tuesday evening and let me tell you I hate physical therapy. I’ve been going for the last 8 weeks for this bloody hip problem that so far is still not fixed. So the physio guy tells me the good news is that my hoo-ha is not broken. Ok, so he didn’t actually use the words “hoo-ha” and “broken” but there was nothing else he could do for me and that I should go see a hip specialist. So I get an appointment for the docs next day and I have to take the day off work (ok, that was not a bad thing - a wee day off work) Smug Git comes with me to the doctor because at this point I’m an emotional wreck. As soon as I see the doctor I dissolve into a bubbling snot nosed heap and can’t even talk to her Smug Git has to do all the talking and between the two of them I leave there with pain killers, anti-depressants and an appointment to see the hip specialist the next day, all in all I’d say it was a good day.

Thursday morning I decide to check out the hip specialist on line only to discover he’s a knee guy, I call the nurse and ask her if she has made the appointment for the right guy because he specializes in knee surgery and she turns into a stroppy cow. She obviously thinks I’m questioning her ability to book appointments (really that was what I was doing) so we had a wee bit of an argument with me telling her she was the rudest person I had ever had to deal with and she told me in a very sarcastic tone that “I hope it all works out for you”. Bloody cheeky cow!  I go back into work only to tell my boss I need the afternoon of to go see the hip guy. Oh and my boss is not a happy camper when I tell him.  He’s saying all the right things like “Well your health is what’s important” and “Don’t worry about work” but I can see he’s pissed.  It’s a good thing I’m leaving this job in two weeks or I’d be sacked. Either way I’m leaving so I don’t really care. I get to see the specialist that afternoon and what a palaver that is.  First I see Shaneequa (the nurse) and explain everything that’s been going on so she takes down some notes then this doctor comes in and – wow - he’s super handsome and I’m all giggly and he asks me all the same questions and takes some more notes. When he leaves Smug Git looks at me and says “You do know I’m sitting right here right?” Oh shut up! Then the hip guy comes in and you guessed it does the same! Seriously does no one speak to each other? I’m a tad fed up (oh and he was not nearly as handsome as the cute young doc) but I did manage to drop the old “I rode the MS150” speech into the conversation and it turns out so did he - but do you know what he says to me?

Doc “Did you finish it?”

Me “Every mile with no sag wagon!”

WTF!

No one ever asks SG did you finish? So because I’m a wee fat woman I can’t finish the stupid bike ride? Oh I was mad.  Then he starts asking me how my acetaminophen is working for me? My what? My pain meds apparently - Why does he not say that? How the hell would I know the names of what medication I’m taking? Who knows that stuff anyway? I just look at the label on the bottle and take it at the right time. Is that not what everyone does? Anyway to make a long story short I have to have another MRI, and right now I’m doped up to the eyeballs with drugs so if none of this blog makes any sense you’ll know the reason. 

I have to say Greek Adonis was hilarious. On Friday morning he was up and about at the same time as us and he asks me if I’m still on drugs I tell him yes and I must have been rubbing my arm or something and he says to SG “Hey dad, mum will be in the closet in a wee while stroking all the clothes saying “oh look the clothes are so soft”. Cheeky wee bugger!

On to the weekend. Very busy as usual but I’ve since discovered that drugs and alcohol don’t really mix but they did stop the hip pain!  So there will be no more drugs and drink for me - Well at least not together.  I forgot to mention the hip guy said I could and should get back on my bike so that’s one good thing that came out of the week from hell.

My apologies for this not being one of my funnier blogs, next week will hopefully be better.  Thanks for reading and I’ll see y’all next week.  Iz 

Can't see the Willie for the Cheese

Good morning all! Sunday morning and what can I say. I feel like I’ve gone back in time - BC (before cycling) when I wake on a Sunday morning a wee bit worse for wear because of the weekend (or week) I’ve just had. And I have to say great weekend and funny week but never the less, food and drink wise not good.

Well if you remember last week I had fallen off the wagon or rather jumped off.  At the beginning of this week I could see the wagon in the distance with one lone cowboy hobbling along and I knew a couple more days of good eating - and I was in fact back on the bike so 10 more miles on that bike and I would have caught up with that damn cowboy. But then Wednesday book club night happened and to make it worse Helena – You remember Helena? - She biked with me remember? She’s the one that got the flat tire and I left her because I didn’t want her to finish before me - That Helena. Well anyway, she was the host and she always makes fabulous food (no three bean salad in sight) the wine is always flowing and a dessert (tres leches cake) to die for.  So now can you see what I’m up against? That wagon is just rolling round the bend out of sight…

Anyway we all arrive at book club and are chatting away - Oh wait, I forgot to tell you the book we were reading, it will not come as a surprise to you - We read 50 Shades of Gray. Well it was decided early on that what happens at book club stays at book club and nothing would be put on Facebook (oh god I so want to call it The Facebook, that’s what my mother calls it “The Facebook” Argh! It annoys the crap out of me but now I want to say it all the time because it’s so funny.  More about my mother another time). However I don’t think any of the girlies said not to put it in my blog! I don’t think… Don’t worry ladies I’ll change your names to protect the innocent - right Helena? OMG but now they will all be so mad at me and I may not have a book club to go back to in August.  So I really had been very good on my diet up to this point and had rode 10 miles on the bike that day so I went along thinking “Well I can just eat a little bit”. Mistake number one, got there and had a couple glassed of some fruity little fizzy drink and it was all downhill from there. I had spotted the cheese table, my definite downfall, I take a look around the table and there is dried fruits and nuts, four or five different kinds of cheeses, olives, 3 different salami’s and a huge selection of crackers.  Well I’ve just died and gone to appetizer heaven oh where to start I think I’ll just start at one end and eat my way around the table and that’s exactly what I do! Delish! The other ladies head to the table in an orderly fashion with me taking up the rear (Ok minds out the gutter) for a second helping. I could not help myself it was sooo good.

While I’m at the cheese table for the second time,

 Helena is asking me “so Izzi what do you think of the table?”

Me, with a mouthful of cheese “it’s delicious, you have gone to a lot of bother”

Helena “Ok. Glad you like it”

So I look at her and she is laughing and I’m thinking cheeky bitch have I eaten too much? have I dropped something on my top? She looks at me, then looks at the table - and then I notice it….It’s a 6 inch glass sculpture of a Willie (Penis for my Americans friends) So I start to laugh so hard and I say to Helena “I’m so sorry, I could not see the ‘Willie for the cheese’!” And then we both are just howling with laughter.  The rest of the evening went along the same lines. So, so funny.

I would love to tell y’all about how the rest of book club went but as I said what happens in book club stays in book club. I will say they are all a great bunch of girls and there was much discussion and hilarity and lots more wine and food consumed and for me I would say a wee bit too much of everything  but then what would my blogs be like if I just wrote every week about how good I’d been and how much weight I’d lost (although the occasional pound of here or there would be nice) Dull.  Do I ever see myself fitting into those size 10 jeans? I do if I could only stop eating and drinking oh and I’ve just remembered it’s father’s day so more eating and drinking today but luckily Smug Git is not my father so I don’t need to do anything for him so an nice easy day for me!   Oh come on I’m joking I let him make a nice dinner and I might make a dessert there see I’m nice right?

Happy Father’s Day to all you great dads out there and for the shite dads get off your asses and take the kids out.

 

Thanks for reading, see y’all next week.  Iz 

Damn those Cowboys

I know what I want to tell you all this week but every time I talk about it I get so depressed and I’m not sure I want to go down that road this morning.  First things first this diet malarkey is driving me nuts and I think I have slipped off the wagon. Well slipped makes it sound so accidental. I think the rest of the cowboys have thrown me head first off the wagon and have left me lying in Indian territory face down in the dirt. As I get to my feet and look the wagon is way off in the distance and I can’t run fast enough to get back on. HELP! I need some words of encouragement from you people out there who read my blog. Leave me a comment in the comment section or leave one on Facebook.  But you have to do something, come on I’m dying out here. Oh and I think I’ve put on three pounds. Arrrgh!

Oh well here goes nothing.  As most of you who have been following my blog know that around January I hurt my leg. By the end of February I could not stand the pain anymore and went to the doctors. After many lotions, potions and pills which worked to no avail I then went for an x-ray and low and behold the x-ray found the beginning of arthritis! WTF! I’m only 47 but now I find myself watching all the commercials with cute couples going on bike rides (note to self-get a basket for your bike) who have arthritis but are leading pain free lives with the help of some wonder drug and all I have to do is ask my medical provider (drug dealer). I can do that I thought so off I go back to the drug dealer - oops! Sorry - doctor but she was from the old school “oh no I can’t just give you drugs, we need to send you to the orthopedic doctor”. So, after an MRI and another doctor with a “I’m not sure what is wrong with your leg but you don’t have arthritis (that’s a bonus) I can’t see anything wrong”.  So I tell him “but I’m in so much pain can I have some pain killers?” And I have to tell you he was certainly not a drug dealer. He gave me a very stern lecture about abusing prescription drugs so would not give me any pain killers. If this pain keeps up I’m seriously going to go out on the street and find me a dealer pronto.  But I will say he was happy to supply me with copious amounts of Ambian (apparently not habit forming… Well not if instead of taking them you drink gin, coz gin puts me right to sleep.)

Finally the doc agrees to physical therapy for me and I’m sure you all remember how that went - lots of tears and snot if I remember right. I start working with the PT and after two sessions I go back and I have a new PT. She is called Lilly and I am NOT happy - oh for fuck sake now I have to go over all this shit again. My face is like thunder and I’m answering her with one word answers pretty much like a spoiled 15 year old.  Then Lilly says

Lilly “Can you lie on the bed?”

Me, sullenly “Yup”

Lilly “I’m going to have to push on you pubic bone will that be ok?”

Me, still sullenly “Yup”

Lilly “It’s going to be very close to your private area”

Me “It’s fine” I’m thinking I don’t care where you push just get this pain away ya stupid tart!

Then Lilly pulls over this little foot stool (she is tiny) and now she is towering over me. She gets her two thumbs and places them on my pubic bone and presses with all her 100 pound frame and I almost hit the roof (she may have been getting her own back for me being a bitch) Oh my god the pain, she looks at me and says “I think I know what is wrong with you”

Me “you do?” (With a big smile on my face)

Lilly “Yes in fact I know what is wrong with you” (I think I might quite like lilly)

She takes me over to the skeleton and shows me the pubic bones and explains that mine are out of alignment along with my pelvis.

Ok what? And then it dawns on me…..Oh no no no! You have got to be kidding, my Hoo-Ha, Vajaja, Flower whatever the hell you like to call yours. Mine is BROKE!  And now to make matters worse I have a new PT (and he’s a guy)because Lilly is off on vacation. How selfish! I have a broken Hoo-Ha and she buggers off for a holiday. I’m gob smacked!  (Ok she’s back off the Christmas card list)

Tuesday comes along and I go meet my new PT he is very nice and checks Lilly’s diagnosis out and agrees with her so I start working with him and I now have to wear this stupid belt around my pelvis 23 hours a day and do lots of PT at home but I’m hoping that this might be me on the mend fingers crossed.

Back to the wagon I think I can see it in the distance so my promise to all of you out there who support me fat or thin that from today I will count my points all week and see if I can catch up with that wagon before next Saturdays weigh in.  And with my new dress accessory the hoo-ha belt I’m now able to exercise so back on the bike for me.

Thanks for reading. Love y’all iz x  

Do as I say not as I do

It’s Half term this week at school and it’s nice to be off. However I always have to schedule all my appointments and stuff so I don’t really feel like I’m having a break or rather a break from work but I sure as hell have been having a break from weight watchers! Isn’t that what always happens, you have your diet under control then the calendar has to throw a spanner in the works by way of a 3 day holiday weekend and I know we all start off so well, just eating a little but ending up as drunk as a skunk because you haven’t eaten enough.  On to the second party and I stuck to the salad and bean dish, you know that really healthy dish no one else has gone anywhere near because it’s sat in between the potato salad with boiled egg in it (everyone’s favorite) and the lovely yummy sticky homemade pork ribs so you know no one is reaching for lashings of butter and kidney bean salad right? Well that’s what I had at the second party however at the second party there was the biggest pavlova I have ever saw. It looked delicious but no, I shall not be tempted! I sat there for what felt like an eternity listening to everyone else oh-ing and ah-ing over the perfect dessert.  But when no one was looking I took a fork and just helped myself to a little nibble - no I’m just kidding - I got as much on that fork as I possibly could and shoved it right in my mouth. Thank god no one spoke to me because there would have been cream and meringue everywhere! I was almost going to go in for another bite but I thought if I used the same fork it might count as double dipping so I thought better of it. I did however go back later with a clean serving spoon (it holds so much more than a fork) Yumm!!! By the third party I had not an ounce of will power or self-control left so I just went ahead and ate and drank whatever I liked. Not to worry I’ll start on Tuesday oh wait I have a lunch date with some friends - I’ll start Wednesday.

Oh that reminds me I was going to tell y’all about my blind date a couple of week ago. Oh what a dilemma I have - I could tell you about the blind date OR I could tell you what happen with my sore leg? Decisions, decisions…….What way to go?

Ok blind date and if I have enough time I tell you about the leg. if not you’ll have to wait for that little chestnut next week and believe me it’s hilarious!

When I was training for the MS150 I received a friend request on Facebook. I looked at the name and I had no idea who this person was, so as every good mother tells their children “Don’t accept friends on Facebook if you don’t know the person”  I just went right ahead and accepted. In my defense I saw a picture and the word Scotland so that sealed the deal for me, anyway turns out she knows another friend of mine. The girl that friend requested me is Issi and she’s Scottish and she’s doing the MS150 AND she drives a Volkswagen beetle (bug for you Americans out there)!  I know, I can hear you all out there – “Wow you’ve friend requested yourself” (probably something I would do). No, it’s all true, or is it? Well we’ve started instant messaging and texting (yes we exchanged phone numbers, something else I tell my boys not to do.) but we can never quite get to meet up or to ride together but we decide on ride day we will meet at the end of the first day at La Grange. So I’m looking forward to it. If you know me well enough you know I’m a phone junky. I take it everywhere and I mean everywhere.  I even have the flashlight app to go to the toilet at night but at La Grange I didn’t get a call or a message from the elusive Issi.  Could this be someone playing a joke on me? Anyway I’m so tired I don’t think anything of it but then half way through the second day my phone pings and, what do you know, a message from Issi but she has just crossed the finish line (hmm how convenient I won’t get to see her today) oh well, never mind. I forgot to mention the one thing we don’t have in common is she is super fit.

A few days later I get an instant message from… you guessed it - Issi and she wanted to know If we could meet up somewhere for lunch.  Now all you mothers out there are screaming “DO NOT MEET UP!” because I know that’s what I’m screaming to the boys. But come on, it is lunch and y’all know how much I love my grub.  So we arranged to meet at Vintage Park a couple of weeks later for lunch.

The Friday night before my big blind date I was out with some friends at 1252 tapas bar (great place) and I was telling them all about my date the next day. Well they were horrified that I’d go. They had her as some kind of lesbian stalker but I have to say not one of them - and you all know who you are; Smug Git, Lesley, Roy, Cathy and Brendon - offered to come with me (or maybe they did… I ended up a tad tipsy)

The big day arrives and I get ready. Get my rollers in… Get the face on… I wear a nice pair of shorts and a nice top. I’m looking good! Then it dawns on me, I don’t even know what she looks like. I mean sure I’ve seen a picture but really, stalkers have never changed their profile pictures… Shit what if?... I get to the restaurant and walk inside, look around the place and I spot her right away. She even looks Scottish! I walk over, introduce myself and she is the nicest lady ever what a lovely lunch….I had you all going there for a minute didn’t I? She was a very lovely lady and we have arranged to meet again soon.

I think this particular blog has gone on long enough so you’ll just have to wait till next week to hear all about my physical therapy and let me tell you it will be well worth reading.  And for the few friends who know what’s going on mum’s the word (or for my American friends “Loose lips sink ships”)!

See Y’all next week Iz x