Where things are now

I wasn't admitted. They started me on blood thinners right away and I stopped taking the pill. I have more Dr's appointments this month than I think I have had since I was a young child.

I will have three months of treatment during which I have to be extra careful about cuts and bumps. A fall means a trip to the ER as does hitting my head. which kind of means that I can't ride roller coasters and absolutely means I can't roller skate.

I cannot be on hormone based birth control anymore, but that (hopefully) will be the only major long term change.

HM is not going to like that I will have to cut down my drinking considerably, but I'm kind of glad.

I will have to be better about moving around more often, both at work and at home. I'm actually looking forward to that.

My leg still hurts. Tylenol doesn't cut it the way ibuprofen did, but I can't have that. Or cranberries. Or copious amounts of garlic. damnit.

The swelling has gone down considerably and I am no longer limping as badly as I was. I'll likely take my third epsom salt bath tonight. the MT had suggested 8 pounds 1x per week for 4 weeks and then 1x per month thereafter. Apparently, our society as a whole is lacking in magnesium. There was nothing in my  paperwork that said I couldn't have it, so I think I'm good.

Chango has been extra protective, hardly leaving my side. I think he knows something is up. It's kind of adorable.

Mostly though, I really want to spread the word that we need to listen to our bodies and pay attention when they tell us something is wrong. If I hadn't gone to the Dr, I could have lost my leg. OR a clot or two could have traveled to my lungs. Or worse, to my brain.

In this season of thankfullness, I am thankful to my MT for the warning. And to the NP for not making light of the situation. For working to rule out the worst case scenario instead of going for the easy answer. I had made it quite clear that I had been roller skating the Saturday before my pain started and that I thought perhaps I injured myself without knowing it.

I was wrong. Thank goodness they were right. And now, let the healing begin.

I think he was trying to head off what he already knew

I went to the ER, driving across town to the less frequented hospital. They pushed me in a wheel chair and I climbed on a gurney. I did my best to smile and laugh and be thankful to the ER staff who constantly deal with the very worst of medicine. The emergencies. Some kid puked on the floor while I was there. The lady I shared my room with complained about everything.

Doctors and nurses came and went, all of them poking at my leg and agreeing that an ultrasound was the best idea.

the ultrasound tech arrived and wheeled me into the room. We joked and laughed and made small talk. I tried to hold still and stay off my phone, until he said the words.

We have clots. You'll have to be admitted.

I called my roommate and made sure that she was home and that she would be okay looking after Chango. I called the wife and asked her if she could pick up a few things from the house and bring them to me. And a cheeseburger. and animal fries. I needed comfort food in the worst way.

As i was wheeled back to my ER room, I remembered my massage therapist's insistence that I take better care of my vascular system. All I could think was that with his experienced hands, with his body worker's intuition, he knew that something wasn't right in my leg, that it was blood related, that I would need to take steps SOON. When I was in his position, I knew when my patients weren't quite right. When they were not feeling well or had something going on that wasn't visible. Since I do not touch people regularly, I no longer have that ability.

I will be seeing him again when I am cleared for massage.

Bodyworkers develop a sense, you know?

That was the week of Halloween and I found all sorts of excuses not to go to Urgent Care. I was hobbling around popping pain pills and trying not to injure myself further. The second Wednesday after my pain started, my ankle and foot swelled up.

I went to Urgent care after work on Thursday. I was expecting them to throw me in an air cast and send me on my way like they did when i sprained my ankle so many years ago.

Instead, the Nurse Practitioner strongly advised me to go to the ER and get an ultrasound. Clots, he said, are a danger, and we need to rule them out. I cried a little. Now we were getting scary. I'm a healthy 36 year old woman. I exercise A LOT. But I also sit on my ass all day at work. AND I've been on birth control pills for the better part of the last 17 years.

I considered just going home. Or at least swinging by to check on Chango. But the look on the NP's face told me to go. and to go now.

I think he knew.

A couple of weeks ago, I went in for a massage at the local chain place that has a "club" of sorts you pay monthly and get massages. Discounts if you want more than one, and if you bring in friends. Kind of brilliant actually. I would have gone to a smaller place, but this one takes my HSA.

Since I don't care about gender, and have had some wonderful massages from men, I generally choose a man. This time, what I didn't expect, was an old man. We all know I tend to be ageist. I don't usually date older men, and I was a little wary about being touched my one. I got over myself because I know that my thinking is incorrect and pure asshole. I got over myself even quicker when I discovered that he had a gentle and healing touch. He was very personable and full of wonderful knowledge. He had started massaging when he was a little boy, rubbing his mother's feet.

As he worked down my right leg, he mentioned that he had noticed some spider veins. He made a few suggestions on things I could do to improve the circulation in my legs. He was very firm, but kind about it. I needed epson salt baths. I need to work my solaris muscle. I went strait to Costco for the salts and took my first bath that night.

A couple of days later, I found myself in a great deal of pain. My right leg felt like it had been punched. or sometimes, it was on fire. Regardless, it hurt. A lot. A few days of this (tempered by over the counter pain meds, and I was threatening to go to the Dr.

Little butterflies about a "new/old" path

Deep breath.

You all know that I'm a huge fan of Liv Lane. Her stories inspire me frequently, and, if you remember, she had a linking party every week about finding happiness that I really enjoyed because it encouraged me to not only write more often, but also to find beauty in simple places.

Over the past year or so, Liv has started on a more spiritual journey and it has been amazing to read and follow along because some of the things that she is discovering are things I learned a long time ago and it's always fun to watch someone else's path to discovery. It's so amazing to see her publically admit to things that most people would call crazy because I have been there and it's scary to put yourself out there like that.

I learned some of it a long time ago. And then? I don't know. I've gotten away from my spiritual side. It's there if I reach for it, I have never lost the deep seated faith that I gained over years of study, but it's no longer forefront in my life. I stopped talking about the hoodoo that I do because I got tired of being the crazy girl even though so many people embraced my witchyness. But some of the people closest to me, rejected it and I moved to a place where I didn't know anyone and it seemed so much better to bury it. To keep it private. To try to be normal. I'll never be normal.

It has occurred to me to change that, and every so often, I start to, quietly, late at night. I don't talk about it with other people because faith is such a private thing and quite frankly, when you start talking about angels and demons and spirits of any sort, people often think you're nuts. Maybe I am. But I'm the harmless sort of nut who hears voices and doesn't always do what they tell me to. Mostly they just say my name anyway.

It came up in conversation with HM last weekend and well, it didn't turn out well even though things are fine between us. I did learn though that he is SO focused on the tangible that he refuses to believe in the things that cannot be seen or proven with science. That's ok. The world needs people like me and people like him to function. I now know that he's going to tease me for believing in magic, and I'm going to quietly think he's ignorant for denying the possibility. There is so very much possibility. It's not worth arguing about, neither of us is going to change the other person's mind. He has his journey, and I have mine.

I started exploring my ghostie side here fairly recently by starting to tell you stories of things that have gone on around my house (still periodically smelling pot, even though no one in the house smokes it, and this time, all the windows are shut), but it's been fairly quiet since the last roomie left and some of my stories are so old, I have forgotten the details.

Also, for understandable reasons if you believe that stuff, it's scary to hop back into it. I know things now that I didn't know then, you know? Yes, I am being vague. I'm being vague because the more I talk about it, the more I can feel them gathering and I'm not ready for that right now.

The point is, that one day I clicked on Liv's bookmark and she announced the next step in her journey. And without hesitation, I said yes. It's rare these days that I don't waffle back and forth between should I and shouldn't I, especially when it comes to spending money and especially when it comes to committing to something that might take a bit of time. I'm an online free college dropout. And one of those online creativity workshop flakes.

This time, I didn't think, I just said yes.

I haven't questioned that. This morning, when I clicked on the bookmark, it occurred to me that I should share this with you. And it turns out, that her post this morning was about that. Not in a pushy, get as many people to sign up as possible kind of way, Spirit told her to encourage her people to share, and I learned that right after it told me to share too. So I'm telling you about this course that I am about to start in December, that makes all the hair on my body stand up, which means it's the right thing for me.

Perhaps it is the right thing for you too. Maybe this post makes you think I'm nuts. That's okay. You're on your own journey, and it's not up to me to change your mind. I love you as you are.