Resolving Timeline Issues

Archive for January 2009

Seriously. I’ve been thinking about this. And had I been better at math I think I would have been a chiropractor. Think about it:

  • $40 a pop (and I don’t mean popping cracking backs; I mean per patient)
  • A job that lets you inflict pain in order to help people (seriously, only the Mythbusters have better jobs – they get paid to blow shit up); I imagine this is a great stress relief (although probably not as much as an esthetician who gets paid to spread hot wax on bare skin and then rip out the hair)
  • These guys have basically a double house; they live in one half and have their clinic in the other half (they’re kind of granola, but seem to know their stuff) – now that? Is a commute I could live with. Go over in your pajamas to open up. Geesh.
  • Work three and a half days a week.

At least that has been my experience over the last two days. And although my back and hips do generally feel better on a deep level, I am fucking sore tonight.

(For those that want to know, here’s the easy to understand explanation: my left hip is lower than my right; my left shoulder is higher than my right; I have muscle tightness in my lower and middle back, bottom and top of my neck. My spine is kind of fucked.

The technical explanation: sublaxation (misalignment of vertebrae) in C1-2, C6, C7, T1-2, T3-6, L3-5,  and Sacro-iliac joints.

And that, kids, is why when you hurt your back, GET IT FIXED RIGHT AWAY. Don’t wait 15 years or you’ll have to see your chiropractor 9 times in three weeks to start, in order to get a baby out of your uterus)


About 12 years ago, I was working at a movie theatre. I was carrying some paper towels from the back to the front and slipped on a patch of grease on the floor. I went down on my ass. The next day, I phoned my dad’s physiotherapist and made an appointment (he kept my dad working and walking for years until he had back surgery). I went in, he adjusted my back, advised me to rest and said there wasn’t much he could do.

(I suspect he was actually trained as a chiropractor, but being British his credentials didn’t transfer over)

About 7 years ago (give or take) I was teaching aquafit at a pool, demonstrating a cross country move with a jump on deck and came down on a straight knee (left). It didn’t feel too good, but I finished the class and then filled out the necessary paperwork. Worker’s Compensation referred me to a sports medicine specialist who said that I only needed to strengthen the muscles around the knee. The next day, I had an MRI – I don’t think the specialist ever saw it because I know that WCB never forwarded it to my GP. At any rate, I hired a trainer, went back to work and things were okay.

Over the next few years, I had various lower back twinges, knee pain, but nothing that a little advil (or losing 30lbs) didn’t help.

About 6 years ago, my knee and the left side of my back were excruciating. I could barely walk most days. WCB refused to give me a new claim or reopen the new one. So I went back on limited duties, dipped into savings and suffered.

About 5 years ago I started a desk job and finally had the cash to go see a physio. The evil little Chinese woman physio identified the problem with my knee: my iliotibial band (that connects your hip to your knee) was so tight it was pulling my kneecap sideways. She showed me how to stretch it and basically fixed me. I still do those stretches to this day.

Note, I also carry things on my left side only. I am inherently right-handed so any fine muscle movements (e.g. – fumbling with keys, writing, etc) need to be done with my right hand.

Back around December 20, I was putting a stainless steel  bowl away in a lower cupboard when my lower back muscles spasmed to the point that my legs collapsed. Darren heard me cursing and swearing in the kitchen and heard the bowl drop and came running in to find me on the floor. I sat there for a minute, then he helped me to my feet and I walked around feeling bruised for a few days and having problems going from sitting to standing. My hips hurt.  But the pain did go away.

What this boils down to is that I’m used to a bit of pain on my left side until I stretch – generally I feel a pop as the IT band relaxes and everything’s good after that. Until I started getting a pregnancy belly, I could still pop my lower back too, and would do that every day.

Until last Thursday. I ended up getting up about an hour early because my left hip was hurting so much. Stretching was painful. So I bit the bullet and phoned a chiro when I got to work. They worked me in as the last appointment of the day at 7:30pm. He poked and prodded my back and hit all the spots that hurt the most which ended up being halfway up my back (?!!!)

He is alarmed, to say the least. My left side (shoulder and hip) sit higher than my right. More alarmingly, my lower back muscles are so tight that they’re not letting the bones in my pelvic girdle separate the way they need to. Or rather, the way they will need to in May to allow my daughter to come out. I don’t even want to think about what that will feel like because I am (a) a wuss to begin with and (b) generally a chickenshit when it comes to sudden pain.

I have an appointment at 4 on Tuesday.

I didn’t mean to not post for 10 days. I just haven’t had much to say. With the Poptart (and yes, we have a name. I think. But we’re not sharing yet) making her presence well known, both internally and externally, there’s not much else going through my brain. Well, except for some work stuff, which everyone (and by that I mean you, unless you’ve been living under a rock) knows about and I don’t blog about, because Rule No. 1 is Don’t Blog About Work. Period.

I didn’t want this blog to turn baby-centric and I thought I could avoid it by talking about the mundanity and turning it humourous. However, I find myself lacking in that department lately. I can barely put two thoughts together.

I have this theory about pregnant women and the phenomenon known as “baby brain”. Up until the time they get pregnant, they have basically full brains (assuming they are adult women; I’m not talking about pregnant teens here). And when they get pregnant, all of a sudden they have to get all this new information into their brains and there just isn’t room. So some of the existing information has to leave in order to make room for the baby information.

The result is brains like swiss cheese. Perhaps not quite so smelly, but lots of holes.

That’s my excuse theory, anyways.

At any rate, I knew I needed some information because some things about babies are still a mystery to me. Not the diaper part – I think the smelly/soggy parts will be a good indicator. But stuff like:

  • How often do newborns need to nap?
  • How often do newborns eat?
  • How often should they poop? (am a firm believer in the plumbing working well, but with babies? HAVE NO CLUE)
  • Etc. ad infinitum. ad nauseum.

In other words, we are obliviates when it comes to 24/7 care of a baby.

So today, I picked up one of the Baby Whisperer books and read the first chapter/intro on the train ride home (before I fell asleep) and it seems to be pretty good so far. I like her philosophy on crying kids, and that every kid needs something different.

More later, when I read more of it.


Posted on: January 10, 2009

We saw you for the first time: 


And we cannot wait to meet you, daughter.

If the poptart has her* way, bladder kicking will be the next Olympic Sport. To be quickly followed by Rib Kicking. Oy.

I shouldn’t complain. Everything, according to the ultrasound, is absolutely, perfectly normal, poptart is sufficiently squirmy and measuring in the 80th to 90th percentile in everything. And a week ahead. And I get to go in for the gestational diabetes test in a month or so because of a history of large babies in my family. Oy.

And my blood pressure is crawling on the floor at around 100/70.  A drop in 10 points on either number = hypotension. Oy.

But hey, life would not be complete without salt, right?

Or fetal feet in my ribcage.

*”Her” loosely defined. We’re going with “her” even if its not fully accurate yet.

Last night at dinner (roast beast, rare, rice, green beans):

Me: [staring out window] This is fucking ridiculous. Do you know how long its been snowing?
Darren: All day?!!!
Me: [glaring dagger] Two fucking weeks. At least.
Darren: [nodding] You’re right. Its a long time to be snowing.

Tonight I intercepted a tweet from Linda saying its snowing in Seattle. So I checked the window again (its dark so I had to look at the street light).

Fuck. MORE snow after it had started melting:

Me: [going downstairs] Its snowing again!
Darren: Are you sure it isn’t raining?
Me: Yeah, there were these big, white flaky things falling down.
Darren: Yeah, rain doesn’t usually fall like that.

And people, I am DONE. I live in Vancouver for a reason: I don’t like snow.  Sure it can snow a couple of days a year, but TWO FUCKING WEEKS?

Yes, we’re divas about the weather here. But this is why we live here: snow belongs on the mountains to make them all pretty. And it should stay there. Sea to ski and all that. The mountains are snow’s natural habitat.

The road outside my house is just about impassible. I don’t really expect it to be ploughed, but could you send a salt truck down or something? Or at least tow the cars that are parked IN THE MIDDLE OF THE STREET? says we’re supposed to get 20 cm (8 inches) tonight.

  • In: 42 | Overheard | WTF?
  • Comments Off on Overheard: Proof we have too much stuff

Overheard as we’re cleaning/organizing the office/computer room (which is a scary, scary, place).

Darren: I found a place where we can put that [pointing at bigass whiteboard that’s leaning against a bookcase because we can’t come up with a place to put it]

Me: Oh?

Darren: Yeah! In the downstairs bathroom!

Me: …

Darren: Come on! We don’t have anywhere else to put it.

Me: You know you have too much crap when you start talking about putting a whiteboard in the bathroom.

Darren: [blink] [blink]

Me: you could take that other one with the broken corner down and replace it with that one.

Darren: No. That one was a pain in the ass to hang. It is NOT coming down.

Me: Well, what about putting it above my desk?

Darren: You wouldn’t be able to reach it!

Me: Yes I would.

Darren: You can’t even reach your cork board above your desk.

Me: Can so too.

Darren: Can so NOT.

Me: I was the one who hung them up!

Darren: Yeah, when you had the little kiddie desk.

Me: Nooooooo….?

Darren: Yeeeeeeeeees.

Me: I’m going to come home one day and find the whiteboard hanging in the bathroom, aren’t I?

Darren: Possibly.

January 2009
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