Monday, August 27, 2007

One-year anniversary coming up!


Smothering my nephew in Naples, Florida.



Come September 16, it will have been one year since I have come to know life in a halo.

Here's an update:

--I pretty much enjoy full mobility in my neck and have no physical restrictions. I still can't turn it as much to the right as I can to the left, but it's really no big deal. It's enough to be able to back out of a tight parking spot and/or ogle a hot person walking by.

--I still experience pain in my neck now and then, especially if it's really humid or cold. Swimming always makes it feel better. So does Pilates.

--I still itch myself with a chopstick.

--Halo scars are very faint. Almost too faint. I kind of like the reminder.

I returned back to work in January at the ad agency at which I work, but have not been happy there for several months since. Despite all my longing for everything to return back to normal, my heart just wasn't in it. I was working crazy hours on work I just didn't care about, and the great people I work with weren't enough to sustain me anymore. After spending several months trying to fit a circle in a square (make it work! I can do this!), I recently took a leave of absence. It seems this halo business was a life-changing event after all. Life is too short not to love what you do. I wasn't McLovin' it anymore, so I left.

So I've spent the month of August becoming a nice little cliche: relaxing, playing tennis and working on my novel. The money I've saved won't last forever and I imagine I'll be freelancing soon, but it feels good and right to have left. I was so burned out. I'll let you know when I do what my next step is.

Monday, January 8, 2007

Take care of yourself. Please.

I love that now when I see people for the first time since my injury, they like to tell me that they thought of me as they were getting on a ladder to do a repair over the weekend. It's never, "Oh, I was touching myself yesterday and I thought about you" or "Hey! I was just thinking last night that I want to give a random friend some money, and I thought of you!"

It's always, YOU ARE THE POSTER CHILD FOR WHAT NOT TO DO.

But I can take it.

What I am having a harder time with is getting settled back into work. Last week was harsh. Going back to work was tough in so many ways, emotionally and physically. I just felt so damned fragile. On the verge of tears a lot. Just like all hysterical women, right?

The first day back was nice and gentle. Everyone was so sweet. They even had a little Welcome Back breakfast for me, which I really appreciated. It was so good to see everyone. So many smiling, supportive faces. People were very careful to be gentle with me and to give me space. But as the week wore on, that quickly faded. This is a business, after all, so you can hardly blame the office. And I look fine on the outside. So why wouldn't anyone think I'm okay? I tried to be Ms. Superwoman way too quickly. Tried to act fine, work fine, laugh fine and take on as much of a workload as I did when I was young and spry and not broken. It quickly caught up with me. I started to feel all sorts of aches and pains again and was so tired by day's end. Still, I told myself I could take it. What an idiot. I have nobody to blame but myself.

My boss was so great about being understanding and looking out for me, but the point is, if you don't speak up, nobody is going to read your mind. I was miserable all week. Granted, it was a particularly crazy time to come back--lots of new business pitches and people being sick with the flu and our staff being incredibly short-handed. But I only took all of that to feel more guilty for somehow not being back on top of my game yet.

The good news is, I'm over it. I took the weekend to cry it out and talk about it with my sister and a few trusted and dear friends, and regained some much-needed perspective on things. Since when do you put work before your health well-being? I know, all the time, right? But I'm here to remind you that it's not right, and life is too short. After a potentially disastrous and life-altering experience, it's crazy how quickly I fell back into old patterns of not taking care of myself and trying to take on too much, too fast. I thought I'd be different, but the truth is, I tried to force everything back to normal overnight. Well, it's not back to normal. How could it be? So why act like it is.

I'm going to give myself some time and space to adjust and be fragile and slowly fall back into life again. My insecurities are going to have to wait. It's now or never to smell the roses.

Monday, January 1, 2007

New neck, New Year


Who the hell wears this much makeup, you ask? Me, on New Year's Eve. Going out to dinner. I put makeup on my pin scars for the first time. Made them look very faint. Now I just need my clown suit, and I'm good to ring in 2007.


My first day back at work is tomorrow. I feel strangely nervous and kind of, well, fragile. Isn't that weird? Like I'm a different person going back to work. I know it will be so good to see everyone but the butterflies abound, nevertheless. Just have to remember to take it one day at a time.

I went to see Dr. G for my two-week follow-up last week. He made me look left to right, then up and down. He didn't see any problems with my progress so far. I told him that I had started driving (cautiously) again, and he said that was okay. I'm not allowed to return to the gym for at least two more months (the time of our next scheduled doctor visit). I can't even run. I guess it makes sense. Still, I fear the blubber mounting. A nice little holiday package of extra weight from too many cookies.

Mobility in my neck gets better each day. I can look to the left fairly well, but not as well on the right side (my bad side). Still, it's much better than a week ago. I'm getting around pretty nicely. I heat up one of those bed buddies in the microwave and put it around my neck to loosen up my muscles. It really helps.

Holidays were really nice. Emotional. My mom was so happy to see me without the halo. Lots of tears. My sister, Sekita, kept hugging me. It was so nice to be all together. I wrote Tatiana a letter, telling her how much I could never pay her back for all she has done for me, how much I appreciate her love and kindness, her beautiful face. She really does have the most beautiful face. I see her coming towards me and I know that I am safe. What a lucky, lucky girl I am.

I know that the coming weeks will be emotional. Taxing. Draining. But they will also be magnificent. I will be sure to write more on my progress as time goes on.