Surgery numero dos

Because just one is no fun! I have been trying to post this for about a week now and for some reason the site wouldn’t let me. BUT HERE WE ARE! So.

A few days before we left to go on our trip, I went to see my doctor to have my stent removed…which really wasn’t supposed to happen until the 6th week mark but I pestered my surgeon via e-mail (I’m not sure it is socially acceptable to e-mail one’s surgeon) with various questions, concerns and comments about my upcoming trip and we agreed that 4 weeks was ok and that I would never contact him again. Just kidding about the second part… although I imagine that crossed his mind.

When I went to see my doctor, he said the process would be uncomfortable but over in 30 seconds.  So I counted to 30. 9 times. The nurse looked about as uncomfortable as I imagine I did and I realized things were not going according to plan. The doctor let me know that he could not find the stent and that he assumed it had traveled. I had been told that I could do cartwheels and give birth without disrupting the stent so you can imagine my surprise regarding its absence after not attempting either. I was told that I would need to have x-rays to confirm where the stent went and likely have surgery the following day. I may or may not be able to head to the wedding I was meant to be in a few days later.

The next day I had surgery with my pal Michael by my side. I was told it may be difficult to eat but, no surprise, I ate all the snacks they gave me and followed that with a sandwich and an ice cream cone. Heroic.

Part of us felt like we had to just laugh…surgeries, no working out and starting a new job (did I mention I got a new job?) in the last couple of months leading up to one’s wedding is not ideal. But it is what it is. And things could always be worse right? The funny, or interesting thing is, my anxiety had reached an all time high a few days before going to the doctor. I felt scared and had no idea why and just felt like constantly crying. I was not in a good place at all and could not pinpoint what was going on. After the surgery my mom asked me if I still felt that way, which I didn’t. She mentioned how my intuition has always been a strength and wondered if on some level I knew something was wrong. I sure do wonder.

Two days later I hopped on a plane to Indiana to be in the wedding of one of my best friends. It was a beautiful day. The next day we got on a plane to Denmark and our European adventure began!

One-Piece Wonders

June 1st! Can you believe it? Ready or not summer is here everyone. I am always ready for summer. My sad little belly with all it’s new marks is not, however. I actually don’t mind all the new marks and I’ve always said that scars tell a story. However, that being said, I know that if wounds are exposed to the sun during the healing process that can make scars much more apparent later on (I actually don’t KNOW that that is true, that may be another medical fact I made up but it sounds logical so let’s roll with it). Lucky for me, one-piece suits are in! I have a couple but am still on the lookout for a few more. Here is what I spied with my little eye…



And NOWWWWWWwwwwW….what I can afford…




HELLO. That was a looooong break. Things for the past couple of weeks were a little hectic and I needed a time out. On Wednesday I had surgery and boyyyyyy did I underestimate it. If medical stuff grosses you out, this is not the post for you… although I will try and spare you the gory details.

Part of me is glad that I underestimated just how painful and uncomfortable this surgery was going to be because I think I would have been a lot more scared had I known what I was in for. I think part of it was a way of protecting myself and the other part was to protect those closest to me because I really do feel like it can be way harder watching someone you love go through something painful rather than experiencing it yourself.

I wasn’t allowed to eat past lunch on Tuesday which, for anyone that knows me, knows that is a good way to torture me. I actually did ok with it however, my surgery time got moved from 7:30 the next day to 11:00 so by the time my parents had brought me to the city, I had a full on migraine and thought I was going to be ill. That may seem dramatic however, I am similar to an infant and am used to being on a regular feeding schedule of every two hours and when that is disrupted, things go horribly array.

Anyways, also similar to an infant, I was curled in the fetal position alternating between my parents laps so they could pet my head like a kitty cat while I whimpered quietly. I could see people looking at me but I really didn’t care and also, mind your beeswax everyone. At 11:30 I finally got called into a room where I was told I wouldn’t be taken into surgery until about 1:00. I should also mention that I was not allowed to have my beloved coffee or even water since midnight so I was starting to feel like a shriveled prune. At 1:00 me and another man were brought up to a room in our gowns and socks to wait with several other people who would be having surgery. One after one, people were called in to talk with their doctors and then off they went to surgery. At 3:30, I was actually looking forward to having surgery in hopes that the pain medication would make my terrible headache go away. Finally, I was brought in around 4:00 to the room. The group in there was playing rap music which on the one hand I found peculiar but on the other hand kind of comforted me and made me feel like I was in my college dorm room with friends and not about to get sliced open (sorry, I know I said I wouldn’t get gory). When I was laying on the bed I remember people making comments about how tiny my arms were and me explaining that I have abnormally small hands and feet for my height. One of the doctors said he bet his hands were smaller and we sized up hands (they were smaller. sad.) and then I fell asleep.

I woke up in the operating room and my first thought was “oh no”. Between wisdom teeth and some breathing issues, I have had a couple of surgeries. There is always a healing process that is uncomfortable but in my past experiences, when you first wake up is when you feel the best. You are still loaded with pain meds and life is groovy. I immediately felt extreme pain and knew this one was going to be a doozy. They told me I needed to get moved on to another bed (I imagine it was a stretcher or something) and I remember saying “no no no no” and then went black again.

When I woke up, I was in the pre-op room and my parents and Mike were there. The lady asked what my pain number was and I said 7 or 8 to which Mike replied that for me that means a 10. And it did. My parents who had left the house early that morning still needed to have dinner and get back to our apartment to feed the kitties and it was already 8pm. Mike stayed with me and held my hand until 11 at night (way past visiting hours….thanks to my amazing nurse) when he finally had to leave. That night and the next day were pretty awful but I was allowed to go home last night because I proved I could walk a little on my own and keep some pudding down (obviously! Have we met?). Now I am home and walking around like a little old lady hunched over but at least its over. See? That wasn’t too graphic. I even left out the part that the nurse said makes most grown men scream. How thoughtful of me!


Orange Theory

Gooooood morrrrrning!! It has been a while. 

We have had a great weekend so far. On Friday night, my dad was coming through town so Mike and I walked to meet him for dinner. One great thing about having a dad who travels a lot for work is that I feel like I get to see him a lot more now than I would normally, being an hour and a half away. The next morning, Mike said I had a friend coming to surprise me and it ended up being my nieces and sister in law which I was so thrilled about. I have really been missing them lately. 

After, I went to my first Orange Theory class for a fundraiser for Mass General Hospital and The March of Dimes. I was feeling somewhat nervous because I didn’t know what to expect and was somewhat regretting having eaten half a jar of cookie butter.

The idea of these classes, if you haven’t done one before, is that they strap a heart monitor on you and then you are hooked up to a big screen in the workout area where you can see your stats. When your heart rate gets to a certain number, you enter the orange, which is where you want to try and stay for the majority of the class. There are three stations, the erg (brought me back to my college rowing days), the treadmill and weights. It actually ended up being really fun and a lot less scary than I anticipated. They bump loud music (a lot of which also brought me back to my college days) and a man yelled encouraging words through the microphone at us. Me and another girl really struggled to get anywhere near the orange, unfortunately. I felt like I was working hard…especially when it came to lifting weights which I neverrrrrrr do, but it didn’t seem to make a difference for our heart rates. There was a period of time where we remained in the gray zone (resting heart rate) while running which was a bit baffling. 

While my wallet can not support 30 dollar classes (I think I heard that is what they cost per class), overall, it was fun to workout with other people and support two awesome causes. 


Madewell May

It can be so hard to know how to dress these days when it is 80 and sunny on a Saturday and chilly and 50 on a Sunday. Even in one day, the weather/temp can feel drastically different just by clouds covering the sun or a gust of wind coming through. I imagine some days I look like a clown with all my mismatched clothing items. In the words of my mother when she saw me most recently “You’ve got a lot going on today!” haha 😉

Madewell seems to know exactly how to navigate these odd weathered days. I love Madewell most during the transitions from one season to the next and feel like there stuff works so well when it comes to layering or not looking odd during a day that can start out cold and end up really warm. Does that make sense? Here is what I am loving at the moment…  


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Birthday Babes


This past week we celebrated my mom’s birthday on Thursday and Mike’s on Friday. It is only fitting that their birthdays would be so close together since they are kindred spirits. I took a drive to see my mom Thursday night to celebrate and it was fun to eat and chat and just have some gal time. Mike’s birthday was great too. Except he also had a lot of speed bumps over the weekend. Poor fella.

On Thursday night, I got text from him as I was about to head back home “I just got a letter from the IRS saying I owe $4,000”. Mike, for those who don’t know, likes mischief. So my initial reaction was fairly tame since I thought he was trying to play a trick. As the flurry of texts began to come in from him, I soon realized he was not joking and that H&R block had made a big oops. I began to feel hot and panicky. Just the day before we had decided I would likely need to have a surgery that would cost who knows how much…but based on the fact that the doctor’s appointment alone cost me $400…it wasn’t looking good for our wallets. I didn’t want to upset Mike any more than he already was and I was hesitant to contact our parents since I did not feel calm, cool and collected but more like a shrieking pterodactyl (who knew there was a p in that word?). So I called my brother. As soon as he picked up the phone I turned into a blubbering mess and explained my feelings of panic. My brother is a really good person to talk to when one is feeling emotional because his affect doesn’t change much no matter how much you hoot and holler. You know when you are on the verge of tears and someone hugs you and it makes you break down faster? With my brother, it is somewhat the opposite in that you will feel fairly unstable if you continue to weep like a willow while he is calmly sitting on the other line. My tears immediately evaporated and we moved right on to the next order of business. If it sounds like I am dissing his approach, I am not. And in fact, it is what I needed in that moment. He is a straight shooter and quickly goes in to problem-solving mode which is sometimes what one needs. Anyways, I spent the whole ride home praying to have things work out…and on Saturday they did! Mike met with the tax people and they fixed their mistake.

On Mike’s ACTUAL birthday, I made surprise plans to take him to The Loeb Boathouse in Central Park. Last time we were in central park, Mike had referenced wanting to go there but not having been able to make reservations because it books up pretty far in advance. I squirreled that info away and reserved us a table for his birthday. After work on Friday I hopped on the train and planned to meet him like I did the last time, just a block or two away from Grand Central, so I couldn’t get too lost. Right before arriving at the station I got a text from him that something had gone wrong at work and he would be there for a while. I walked the same couple of blocks that I did last time and then went and waited inside the H&M that I had gone to last time. I wandered the store for about 20 minutes mustering up the courage to try and find my way to his work. I put the address in google maps but the little dot was bopping all over the map and clearly that wasn’t going to work. I had to use my spidey senses to make my way there. Just when I had determined I was very lost, I looked up and saw a sign he had pointed out once. Eureka! I found his building! I waited outside for an hour and a half until he emerged…smiling as always 🙂

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We had an awesome dinner at the boathouse which for me, mainly consisted of carbs, followed by sugary carbs for dessert and then walked back through central park. On Sunday we returned for the bacon and beer festival. I had gotten him tickets in an attempt to try and do something new and unique (and what guy doesn’t like beer and bacon?). It was a blast but not our prettiest moment. It is probably for the best I don’t post the pictures from that day. Happy Birthday, Bud!


The Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day

Did anyone else read Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day as a child? From the second Alexander wakes up his day is bummer after bummer. Today was like that (I wouldn’t call it terrible, horrible since no one got hurt but you get the gist). Sometimes when I have bad days, I think about that book. I even catch myself saying in my head “some days are like that, even in Australia”. If you have never read it, then you have no idea what I am talking about.

I don’t like to be a complainer but today STUNK. I knew it was going to stink when I was having my normal morning phone chat with my mom on the way to work and burst into tears (here’s hoping none of my co-workers witnessed this on their way in to work). I just could not get my head above water. Every time I walked into my office the voicemail light was blinking (that red light makes me so anxious), I messed up multiple VERY important tasks and I was late to just about every meeting after getting caught up in other meetings. Do you ever have those days where it seems like all you do is run around yelling “SORRY!”? There were a few points throughout the day where I thought “Should I hide under my desk until the day is over?”. I didn’t. But probably should have. Anyways, as much as I know how important it is to vent, I also know we all have stressful days and it is really unappealing to listen to someone complain when you are just trying to get through your own stuff (seems kind of backwards for a counselor to say, right?). Actually, the other morning I put on a random workout video on YouTube and was taken aback to hear the lady complaining THE ENTIRE TIME. I am no stranger to huffing and puffing through a workout however, I needed motivation from this youtuber and she was being a real drag. She spent the video saying how hard the workout was, talking about all her injuries and breathing heavily into the camera. Rather than feeling pumped and getting in a hardcore workout, I ended up staring blankly at the screen and feeling melancholy.

Anyways. That story kind of got off track but I just thought it was weird and I wanted to share it.

My point is. We all have our stuff and it is ok to take a minute to vent but then it is time to move right along. I actually wasn’t in a bad mood considering the stinky day (perhaps they call that defeat?). And once I left the building I was done with that portion of my day and I was determined to have a better finish to the day. And I did! Sometimes I feel like I can will myself to have a good day. Other days I get chased through the parking garage by a terrifying drug addict.

So like I said…things turned around! My favorite staff member was working at the front desk of our apartment. He told me that Mike and I made an impression on him because we are always so smiley (also probably from the time he caught Mike “borrowing” a stack of paper cups and Mike got scared and put both his hands up like he had just been caught by the police) so that was pleasant to hear. Then I went for a walk with my friend Bridget. We seem to be in really similar places in our lives right now with work and getting married and such so it is just easy to have endless conversations. And THEN I was surprised with Mike coming home early. He opened his birthday gift from his parents and it was the Ancestry DNA test for BOTH OF US! I literally was just saying to Bridget two hours ago, how badly I wanted this. Mike and I jumped for joy! I sure hope we don’t discover we are related. I will let you know in 6-8 weeks.

So here are some things, in my humble opinion, that can make a bad day better: