Just Like Camp

Since I'm now on staff with the youth at my church, I went on the Fall Retreat this past weekend. And having spent summer after summer of my childhood at some camp or another, it felt very very familiar.

But this time, I was the leader.

I drove a van in the caravan, and right off the bat had to mediate a conflict between the group of girls who wanted to ride with me and the boy who wanted to ride with his friends in my van, which belonged to his parents. At first, I played the they-told-me-first card... and then I realized that they were perfectly capable of settling the issue themselves, so I told them to work it out and walked away. Soon enough, I was driving a van-full of 7th grade boys and having a blast. It was a hilarious car ride for Kara (the other leader in the car) and I... the details of which I would not be able to do justice in a blog.

The second day at camp, we went to Elephant Rocks. I was fearful that my foot would get irritated with all the walking since I haven't been working on it as much as I would like, but with a couple ibuprophren, it didn't bother me all afternoon. I climbed and wandered to my heart's content and it was fabulous.

I think the most amusing thing to me about the weekend was that I was the one in charge. I was the one enforcing the curfew, answering questions, keeping tabs on love-sick girls, leading small groups, keeping an eye on adventurous boys, etc.

It was definitely a role shift, but I loved it. I loved being with the youth. I loved being in the woods. I loved getting to know the youth from other churches that came with us. I loved being away from homework. And I loved hanging out with the other staff members.

Here are my pictures to prove it. Now back to reality and grad school.

My foot hurts

... can I go to the nurse?" [Name that movie...]

I walked around Downtown San Jose with my cousin (J), his wife (Nikki), their friend (Kevin), and Maren for the Jazz Festival tonight. It was an enjoyable evening, and strangely enough I played introvert at first and almost didn't go. But now my foot hurts... because we walked everywhere... *sigh*

Moon Shoes

The foot saga continues… but first, a trip down memory lane:

My very first best friend was Rebecca. Our moms called us Salt and Pepper because I had blond hair and she had black hair. She shared my love of The Little Mermaid, surpassed my love of reading, and inspired my love of the flute. One of the things that drove our parents nuts was that we went through a phase where we always traded shoes whenever we were together. I don’t remember why we started doing that, but I remember that it became a sort of game because we had to be sneaky about hiding it from our moms so that they wouldn’t make us trade them back before we even left each other’s houses.

Anyway, I remember Rebecca, her brother, and I visiting their dad’s house once (I think he lived further away). And honestly, I don’t think I would have remembered the visit at all if it hadn’t been for the moon shoes. They were the coolest things ever. Each shoe was an oval plastic cylinder that was several inches larger than the circumference of your foot and it put you several inches off the ground. In the middle of the cylinder, there were a million thick rubber bands suspending the small platform for your foot. And with each step, you bounced gently. Apparently, the idea was to mimic walking on the moon, but I didn’t give that a second thought. All I knew was that they gave me the coolest feeling as I tried to walk around in them and I loved it.

I lost touch with Rebecca, but I’m not quite sure when. There’s still a specific Burger King and a particular Del Taco that always make me think of her. The last time I saw her was when I convinced my mom to let us drop by and say hi… I think I might have been in sixth grade at the time. I saved a news article that mentioned her (I think it had to do with playing the flute) in high school. And I actually recently found her on Facebook and learned that she went to college with a friend of mine and is now in Med. school.

The reason my moon shoe experience comes to mind is because yesterday the doctor prescribed me a moon boot (also known as an Air Walker) for my ankle/foot injury. Apparently, the x-rays I took earlier this week revealed what the swelling had hidden in the initial x-rays: I have a fractured 5th metatarsal (as originally suspected) AND a chipped cuboid (as most recently diagnosed). So after 7 weeks, they’ve put me in a bigger boot (which does not even remotely resemble the shoe its name pulled from my memory) to stabilize the ankle joint so that it can heal.

Aren’t you supposed to downgrade, NOT upgrade?! Whatever. Its more comfortable and tons more supportive (well, it better be because it was also tons more expensive). I think it will be easier to walk in, but I’m still adjusting.

And I definitely feel like complaining about the whole thing, and part of me wants to hide the boot so that the concerned questions about my ankle don’t start all over again. Don't get me wrong, I’m perfectly happy to answer everyone’s questions the first time around - as well as scattered follow-ups... but all over again?... seriously? I feel like the very presence of the large brace forces people to ask and I really hate that this silly foot injury is such a big deal in my life.... grrr... why can't they make invisible braces or something...? For crying out loud, I want to be able to wear a skirt to church without feeling like I'm begging for sympathy and attention! Wah!

But the reality is that there are several things that I’ve been able to do in the last month that I probably wouldn’t have been able/allowed to do if they had started me with the moon boot (as opposed to the ankle-high post-op shoe):

- wear normal shoes to my cousin’s wedding in Arizona
- go on the Babler Park field trip with the kids from my practicum (let alone creek walk)
- spend the afternoon walking around the zoo with Jennifer and Tim (cousins from Illinois)

So I’ll try not to complain. :)

It's a bird... it's a plane...

It's a sprain... it's a fractured 5th metatarsal... NO! It's a chipped cuboid!

Yes, that's right folks... once again, my foot issue is not what they thought. And I get to switch doctor's again for the 3rd in a row... grrr....

The cuboid is the round-ish bone attached to the 5th metatarsal at the ankle. Apparently, its the one that got a sliver pulled off by the tendon-ligament-thing. Fun... not!

So anyway, I'm a little irritated. My summer is officially shot as far as enjoyable outings and I'm bitter... and really, really sad.

Forms of Transportation

I'm traveling to Arizona this weekend for my cousin's wedding.

This requires a plane flight. And I have a broken foot.

My plan is to walk as slowly as I need to through the airport and take plenty of pain-killers. Is that stupid?

My foot may be broken, but I can still walk. I have no cast and no crutches... I'm hardly immobile, but an airport...?

I'm the type of person that flings my bag over my shoulder and books it through the airport. Get in, get out, get on with it.

And while I may not have that luxury this time, I certainly don't need to be bused around in a airport car-thing or a wheelchair.

I'll admit that I'm in denial about the whole thing and largely stubborn in regards to what I should and shouldn't be able to do for myself and there's no way I'd even let someone give me a wheelchair... let alone a ride through the airport...

I realize that I may be ridiculous, but I just feel like its a stupid foot. There are plenty of people who need those kinds of services and I cannot allow myself to be in that group unless the doctor demands it or I am unable to walk...

So as long as hobbling counts as a form of transportation, I'm good to go.

Sad Feelings

So it just dawned on me today that I don't get to go to Six Flags this summer... stupid foot!

I was SOOOO excited about having my very own amusement park so close by... and I had every intention of getting a season pass. I guess at this point, its a good thing that I wasn't very quick about getting that done... wah!

Farewell my beautiful roller coasters... you will be greatly missed... but rest assured that I shall return as soon as I am able to partake in your marvelous modes of entertainment...

Correction

There's nothing wrong with my ankle... I just fractured the 5th metatarsal in my left foot... that's all... :(

The good, the bad, and the painful

Today hasn't really been my day. The ups and the downs have been rather strange and unique and definitely not what I would have chosen. Its been a day of "firsts" and a day of "oh-no-not-again's."

I only slept 4 hours last night(oh-no-not-again), and I got up extra early to take my car in to get the transmission fluid changed. It was rather quick(a-first) and I even had time to fill up my tank of gas, so I made a quick U-turn to get to a gas station.

I hadn't gone very far and I noticed a cop trying to get by, so I moved into the right lane already figuring he might be coming for me. Sure enough, he scooted over behind me, so I pulled off the road(oh-no-not-again).

My trend with cops is that I get pulled over every 2-5 years for something I didn't realize I was doing (like, going 15 miles over the speed limit or turning right at a red light where it wasn't allowed). I always feel bad and know that I was wrong, but I always try to explain myself (not to get out of it, but just to be understood), and then I always get a ticket because cops don't like excuses.

So I tried to keep breathing, hoping that the cop would take pity on the bewildered California driver who thought she knew the driving rules in Missouri but was apparently mistaken. Well, he did (a-first) and I didn't get a ticket. And I am now accurately educated about where one can and cannot make a U-turn in Missouri(a-first, apparently).

I went about my merry business at work all morning and then headed over to the church where we do the after-school program. Today, we were supposed to get a whole new group of kids and I was supposed to be one of the main leaders(a-first) instead of just a fill-in/assistant/helper.

After walking into the building, I realized that I should have brought my other bag with me from the car. I went out to retrieve it only to have my left ankle give way and let me fall(oh-no-not-again). My ankles used to do this weekly and I got used to catching myself before I would fall; my tendons were so stretched out that it didn't even hurt very much, and within 5 minutes I'd feel good as new.

But its been at least 4 years since then (meaning that my stretched tendons have largely healed), and my ankle did not take too kindly to the jolt(oh-no-not-again). In fact, my ankle hasn't felt or looked this awful since I sprained it my freshman year in college during Missions Conference when Hilary and I were teaching Jewish dancing.

And this is seriously the worst day for this to happen because we were already under-staffed today for the after-school program, and now they've sent me home because I'm worthless as far as an active bunch of 5th graders is concerned. Grrr...

The bad news is that my ankle is REALLY unhappy. And in the past, when I haven't been able to jump back up within a few minutes, I've ended up injured for weeks(oh-no-not-again)... so I guess I'll just try not to think about that... because it means really bad news for my ability to participate in my practicum(a-first), which is definitely not good on multiple levels for multiple parties... :(

So why in the world did this have to happen today? Is this supposed to give me a chance to rest? Well, as I sit here staring at all the things in my room that I would like to organize/put away, I'm in more pain (though psychological rather than physical) and I don't feel like I'm resting. I feel guilty that I can't work and that the people at practicum now have to work even harder (and trust me, they work too hard as it is) so that I can sit here being completely unproductive.