The Saga Continues . . .

So I went to the ortho today. Sadly, my favorite ortho ever is no longer going to be a part of my insurance network as of January 1st (boo), so I figured it couldn't hurt to try to find a new in-network ortho. Let me tell you . . . BIG MISTAKE.

I was a bit nervous when I got to the office, as it just looked a bit outdated and grimy. As I sat and waited, I told myself not to judge a book by its cover, and tried to remain positive. But then, when I was finally seen, the visit lasted approximately two minutes (and at least 1 1/2 of those minutes were me telling the doc what had happened in as much detail as possible). He asked me if I work out and if I've been working out . . . and I told him that I run, cross-train and used to lift weights before my fall; and that I've been trying to run since my accident, but that it's been very painful to do so. So then he grabbed my arms and moved them a couple different ways (which really hurt, by the way) and reported to me that I should "resume my normal activities," as he turned to walk out of the room. I stopped him and said, "but the last time I ran, I was in so much pain that I was in tears later that night." His response? "Like I said, I'd just try to resume your normal activities."

No x-rays; no "does it hurt when I do this"; no diagnosis; no nothing. I'm just so discouraged. I mean, I HAVE RESUMED my normal activities--as someone who lives pretty much paycheck to paycheck, it's not like I have a choice but to do so! But that's the problem . . . that the normal everyday activities are extremely freaking painful . . . and that, by the end of the day, I am in so much pain, I am tempted to saw my own arm off! Call me crazy, but it seems like there might be something wrong with that. Of course, this dude didn't stick around long enough for me to tell him that, and I'm sure it wouldn't have made a difference if he had. I don't know if it was the fact that it's a worker's comp. injury--and he thought I was just trying to get some time off from work or what (little does he know that I missed NOT A SINGLE MINUTE of work as a result of my injuries). But seriously . . . so frustrating. And it didn't help that I rushed back to work to make a team meeting, in which we were told that our firm will NOT be replacing the litigation paralegal who just quit, despite the fact that we're busier than ever. It's a never-ending battle . . . I wonder if the remaining 3 of us left if they'd even bother to replace us?

Anyway, I know I know . . . I can always get a second opinion or whatever. The point is, I'm just sick and tired of everything being such a huge struggle. Honestly. I wasted a precious hour of my work-day--between getting there and back, and waiting for like 30 minutes in the waiting room. That just means an extra hour I'm going to have to be at work tonight. And if I have to go see ANOTHER doctor, the same thing will happen that day.

Blah. I really need to go running . . . perhaps I will suffer through the pain tonight. After all, the doctor told me to do it!

BRRRR!!

I must have been on crack when I said I was going to attempt a long run "because it was such a beautiful day" on Sunday. Riiiiight. I mean, it LOOKED beautiful from the comfort of my couch . . . but 'twas not so. Wilson and I ran out to get lunch and, holy falafel, it windy and cold out! Thus, we opted to spend the rest of the day inside on the couch, where it truly was a beautiful day. I know, I know . . . but the cold makes my entire-left-arm-injury hurt so much more!! (haha, not sure what Wilson's excuse was!)

Well, watch out entire-left-arm. Wilson and I have decided to brave the cold tonight and head to our local track for a 3 x 1200 speed workout. It is ass-cold out (again), so luckily I've come up with some motivational tactics to get my hind end out the door . . . 1) I'm seeing my ortho on Thursday, so I'd better run all I can now just in case running is taken away from me (again); 2) For the first time this season, it's actually cold enough to wear my running tights (see how I spun a horrible thing into a good one using my love for clothing? Now THAT'S tricky!); and finally, the kicker . . . 3) I can have some EGGNOG if I run! I'm so good at drinking eggnog, I've already made it through 1 carton of it, despite the fact it's so early in the "holiday season". I better keep practicing . . . :)

Over it . . .

Hey y'all! Thanks for your wonderful words of wisdom regarding my last post . . . I really, really appreciate them. I think you all are totally right about everything you said. As I thought about it more, I realized that for the first time--oh, ever--I don't really have any one particular thing that defines me . . . I don't really have an identity, so to speak. I've gotten so used to always working towards big accomplishments that now that I don't have any huge goals, it's making me feel a bit lost. I'm starting to realize, though, that maybe it's a good thing to be more or less goal-free for a while. Maybe I should really allow myself to just blend into the crowd and relax for a while. After all, it is creeping closer to the holiday season!

Okay, fine . . . I admit it. There's no "creeping" going on in our household! Poor Wilson has had to endure hours upon hours of Christmas music already . . . not to mention, hours of talk about Christmas decorations, holiday party planning and Christmas shopping! BUT. In my defense, I've come up with a theory that allows me to start celebrating Christmas right after Halloween ends. It goes like this: As adults, life seems to move FAR MORE QUICKLY than it ever did as children. Thus, to get an appropriate amount of holiday celebration in each year, we must start with our preparations extra early!! See? That's my story and I'm sticking too it!!

Speaking of which, I haven't gotten around to sharing the story of my horrible fall down the stairs yet. So here it is. Okay, it was a crazy, crazy day at work. We'd just gotten a new matter in that I ended up being assigned to, mostly because I'm the only competent person at my firm. Now, because I have approximately 20 other matters on my plate, I was juggling a LOT that particular day. Meanwhile, #1 A-hole (who I also mentioned here) was in prime form even for him. He called me up complaining that our copy center was taking too long to make the eight copies of about 2000 pages worth of documents for the team. I apologized and explained that they were super busy up there, and were doing the best they could . . . and he FREAKED and started bitching me out and attempting to insult my intelligence, just to make himself feel better. He then insisted that I call the copy center and cancel the job . . . and DO IT MYSELF. Hilarious. So there I was . . . pushing the rest of my work aside to make a shitload of copies.

I hurriedly printed and copied the crap #1 A-hole wanted, because--let's be honest--I'm terrified of him. So as I was finally headed upstairs to deliver it all, I realized I forgot something down at my desk. I turned and headed back down the stairs, practically running, carrying the ENORMOUS stack of documents . . . and graceful as I am, I managed to catch my heel in the hem of my pants. I stumbled and tried SO hard to catch myself, but I just knew I was going down! I tumbled, somersaulting all the way down the stupid flight of marble stairs. It must have looked/sounded really badly because I saw people SPRINTING at me from every direction--I realized later that I honestly don't think I've ever seen ANYONE run as fast as some of these people were running. There were papers and broken binder clips EVERYWHERE. My shoes had flown off in opposite directions. Although I was totally stunned, I immediately tried to get up and get to my office, apparently muttering that I needed to get the documents to #1 A-hole. My co-workers convinced me to stay down for a minute (probably convinced I'd broken my neck or something) . . . but after taking inventory of my entire body, I realized that the only thing in serious pain was my left arm. Thus, I insisted I needed to get back to my office.

One of my co-workers picked up the scattered documents, which miraculously were somehow mostly in tact, and we headed back to my office. As I got there, I realized I was actually in a LOT of pain . . . my entire arm--from shoulder to knuckles--was becoming very painful. I took a look at my elbow and realized it was swollen about three times its normal size. Realizing I still had to get the documents to #1 A-hole, I enlisted the help of my co-worker, Ariana. Ha, she had no clue what had happened, and when I showed her my arm, she freaked out. Luckily, she wasn't too busy, so she put the documents back together and delivered a copy to #1 A-hole while I iced my arm and bawled in my office. Now comes my favorite part:

When Ariana delivered the set of documents to #1 A-hole, he immediately asked her if everyone else on the team had a set as well. Her response to him was, "Well, no. Bailey fell down the stairs." He briefly asked if I was okay, to which Ariana responded, "No, she hurt her arm pretty badly." After not even the slightest bit of hesitation he goes, "Well, how long is it going to take you to get copies to everyone else?!" Lovely. I could have broken my neck and been paralyzed for the rest of my life . . . but this jerk's concern is over when the rest of our team members are going to get their documents. Thanks, buddy.

So after we got everything out to the rest of the team, we figured it might be a good idea to go to the ER and get my arm checked out. I had debated about whether to go or not (I avoid the ER at ALL costs) . . . but I finally allowed myself to be convinced to go . . . mostly because I just COULDN'T stop crying. It was so weird. I'm still not sure whether it was the pain or whether I was a little bit in shock from how scary the whole thing was. But I ultimately figured it was better to be safe than sorry, especially since it was a work accident and would be paid for by the firm.

Of course, being a NYC hospital, I was at the ER FOREVER. Then, for some reason, despite the fact that I told the doctor that my entire arm was hurting super badly, she only chose to x-ray my elbow. The initial x-ray didn't seem to show a fracture, but she said I should get it x-rayed again in a couple weeks if it was still hurting. Well, being the bad patient I am, I'm still in a great deal of pain--from my shoulder down to my wrist--and I still haven't gone back for another x-ray, despite the fact that it's now been more than 3 weeks. Oops. I guess the problem is that I keep assuming that since I can move it and sort of use it, it will probably get better on its own. But thus far? Not so much. I suppose I should probably set up an appointment sometime in the coming week. After all, worker's comp has to pay for it . . . I might as well make sure everything okay, no?

In other news, I attempted an almost long run last weekend . . . got 7 miles in at a 9:58 pace. Not too bad. Although my arm was pretty painful, and my asthmatic lungs were NOT happy with the cool air, it just felt SO good to be running. I'll probably attempt another longer run this evening. It's just too beautiful out to not do so!

Alright, this post is already way too long . . . so if you made it through the whole thing--congrats! I best wrap it up before I lose more of you! Hope everyone is having a great weekend :)

Perpetually Bummed . . .

Do you ever have a bad day . . . and then it transitions into a bad week . . . which slowly turns into a bad month . . . and before you know it, it's been a bad year or two? And all of a sudden, you start to question every aspect of your pathetic, unaccomplished life? Well, that's where I am right now. I'm in *that* place.

I've had numerous events come and go over the past year that I had hoped would turn everything around . . . running my first marathon, moving into a fab new apartment in a fab neighborhood, travelling to a myriad of new places, the presidential election . . . and while each of these events were positive forces, none of them were powerful enough to get me over the hump. I just can't seem to shake this stupid funk. I think the main problem is that my life is completely and totally lacking any direction whatsoever. I was so overwhelmed by such feelings last night that I actually began considering applying to law school (again)--JUST so I could have something that almost sorta kinda gave me some semblance of direction. Now, in case you're new to this blog, I decided a while back that I ABSOLUTELY positively do not want to go to law school. But, at this point, things are so unclear that law school is actually becoming a reasonable option again. God help me . . .

Have any of you had periods like this in your life? If so, how did you break through them and get to a place of tranquility? I know this is a running blog . . . not psychotherapy . . . but it's been on my mind and I'm curious to hear any thoughts y'all have to offer.