Sprinkled with love

Happy Sprinkles

On Friday, something magical and crazy happened. We picked up a lost dog that had been running around our neighborhood for almost a week. At first I thought she was a bit too little and barked a little too much. But once we gave her some food, water and a belly rub, she was a happy little lady.

I was able to track down (through her microchip) some information about her.
1. Her name is Sprinkles. Yes, sprinkles.
2. She's a 3 year old Aussie/ Chihuahua mix and despite the second of those breeds, she's quite cute. 3. She was adopted out through a non-profit rescue shelter and, unfortunately, her owner has made no effort to find her and bring her home (which makes me really mad).

Since we already have a crazy dog, who is also a very jealous dog right now, we can't keep lil Sprinkles. But the rescue is working hard to find her a new home. We'll keep her another couple days until they can take her.   

Her first dog park trip!

Even though it's only been a few days, I feel like this experience has taught me a lot.

1. Compassion is a very strong virtue. I have always been a dog person. I love dogs, I used to think I wanted a whole house full of them, and I rarely meet a dog I don't like. But knowing Sprinkles was outside in 105+ degree heat for a week (or more?) with so many people walking past her everyday was heart breaking. She is the sweetest, cutest little thing and to imagine her owner being totally ok with losing her is so sad. I definitely don't want a house full of dogs, and being responsible for her on top of our already crazy life has been really stressful, but knowing we might have saved this little dog's life makes it worth it.

2. Lucy is a genius. I always knew Lucy was smart. She's a combination of 2 very stubborn, bossy, sassy and smart breeds. But having Sprinkles around makes her seem like Einstein. Don't get me wrong, Sprinkles isn't dumb. She just has no training and lots of energy. She's fallen off chairs, run into walls and watching her try to untangle herself from a tree on our walks is hilarious.

Her and Lucy- BFF's (almost)

Belly rubs make everything better

3. There are good and bad people. Finding a stray dog is a great way to gauge the people you interact with. The neighbors whose house Sprinkles was hiding near for a week didn't make any attempt to feed her, give her water or report her to the humane society. This is terrible. The woman who chose to let Sprinkles run off should never be responsible for life. But, in this, I met some very wonderful people. First, the vet that scanned her for the microchip- they spent almost 45 minutes trying to track down ever bit of info they could on Sprinkles. Second, the rescue shelter. The woman I spoke to remembered Sprinkles, thanked me a million times for saving her and has been working diligently to find her a forever home. It's because of people like this that make up for the crummy ones.

Sparkles might not be ours, but she sure has brought love and happiness into our home. (Just don't ask Mark and Lucy what they think of her). And if you're interested in giving this little lady a good home, visit the rescue's website:  http://azpawsandclaws.com

Wedded Bliss

Do you hear that? That right there? That's silence. That's called peace. I am no longer talking to myself, frantically scribbling notes on the back of Hobby Lobby receipts and I'm not cursing at my computer screen.  That can really only mean one thing.


I. GOT. MARRIED.

 

Yes, it's true. The big day has come and gone and now that the dust has settled, I'll try to recap the highs, lows, tears, laughs, and everything in between. 

From a bride's (incredibly biased, still basking in the after glow) perspective:

1. Family. I cannot even begin to explain the love you feel for/from your family when you get married. Maybe it's because I'm the only girl on my mom's side, or because it was just because our families are so awesome (maybe both) but I felt nothing but love from my and Mark's family. My aunts worked for hours and hours on my bridal shower, rehearsal dinner and on the day of the wedding to make sure it was perfect. My cousin Weston hand carved the center pieces out of downed aspens. My Dad and brother hand made yard games for the reception. It was incredible how everyone came together and made our wedding so incredible. I don't even know how to thank them enough.



Weston made this!

2. Friends. Even now, I get goose-bumps thinking about how amazing our friends are. Only 3 out of our enormous 14-person wedding party was actually living in Colorado. Our friends loved us enough to travel from: Thailand (!), Maine, New York, Portland, New Mexico, Ohio, Montana, Reno, Cali... The list goes on. And not only did they come to the wedding, but they were in it. They dealt with anal emails from me, goofy socks, staying in my parent's camper, and even brought their spouses with them. I cannot express how much it meant to us that our friends would do all that for us. 



Our enormous(ly awesome) wedding party.

I was ugly crying into Dad's shirt

Ugly crying. At our rehearsal dinner we introduced all our wedding party, which was really special and amazing and yes, Mark told me 10 minutes before it happened so I had no time to actually prepare anything to say. But it wouldn't have mattered anyway. Mark talked about his brother/ best man and started crying, then the waterworks started. I cried, Mark cried, everyone cried. So, naturally, I was terrified that it would be 10x worse on the actual wedding day. Plus, the girl who did my makeup informed to AFTER it was done that it was not waterproof. Excuse me? But, I was able to lock it up and hold my sh*t together. Well, for the most part. But if I learned anything it was that crying is actually really appropriate and endearing at your own wedding. So future brides, cry away!

It truly was an amazing day. I wouldn't have changed a thing!

Hot Sweet Home

I've put off blogging for long enough.  So much has happened since my last post that writing a blog seemed a bit too overwhelming to take on. But alas! The wait is over. Now I still have an entire 3 week trip to Europe to plow through, but since we've received so many questions about our new life in Arizona, we'll start there.



Little toasty

I have to mention that the best part about actually living in Arizona in the summer is that no one here talks about how hot it is. Everyone else can think of nothing else to talk about than the weather- which gets a little old. But here, everyone talks about everything except the high temperatures.

But, that being said, I will still acknowledge that it's f***ing hot. It was 121 driving in and it's not uncommon to see it in the mid 110's. Luckily, you adapt really quickly.  It's been a change, but I can't say I hate it. And no sunburns yet!! God bless air conditioning and ice cream!

Our humble abode
 

We got REALLY lucky in the house we are living in. Mark's friend needed someone to live in his house between his renter moving out and him moving back in and it happened to fit right into our schedule. We plan on buying a house in the next few months, but right now we're living rent free in a super nice house. I still can't believe it's worked out!



Entry way. Lucy's favorite spot




Our massive closet

Tiny patch of grass. Oh and Lucy's pool


 



Our awesome kitchen!

 

 

And since I know everyone really wants to know how Lucy is coping, she is just fine! She was a little nervous and stressed during the move. The first 2 weeks we got here, she wouldn't leave my side no matter where I went (ahem- bathroom) but she's slowly starting to get used to her new home.  We have a huge park 2 blocks away and every day we walk there and she gets to hunt lizards. This is her new favorite past time and she's obsessed!  This is usually followed by a long nap in front of the fan. It's a rough life.
 

 

 

It has officially been 4 weeks since we moved and it's pretty nuts. I'm still trying to find my bearings, get to know this place and avoid the scorpions (successful so far!). It's definitely different than Portland, but I knew it would be. Next step (after getting married of course) is finding myself a job. In the meantime, we are accepting visitors any time!!

One last Bender

One place I've always loved is Bend, OR. It reminds me so much of Evergreen, where I grew up. The climate is much drier than Portland and there's always some sort of festival or race or hike to do. Plus there's some really great restaurants we like to enjoy too. So when Roy asked Mark and I to volunteer at the Sister's Stampede- a local mountain bike race- we didn't hesitate.

Bend has a great dog park right on the river. It has a swimming spot, which Lucy is still too wimpy to jump in. But she loves to get her little paw wet and watch the other dogs swim by.

The race was fun, but chilly. We directed the racers at an intersection. It was pretty cool to watch these riders- they are in way better shape than I will ever be. We were very important because we got the wear neon yellow shirts. 

Lucy got to run free in the meadow and we are proud to announce she caught her first animal! It was a mole and holy cow, she was proud of herself! Unfortunately, she had more fun playing with it and wouldn't kill it. So Roy had to finish the job. It was sad, but hey, that's the circle of life. Don't worry, we had a proper burial for him. Lucy even said a few words at the funeral. RIP little buddy.

One down, countless to go

Well, its all over. Yesterday was my last day at work. I was so busy all week I didn't have a chance to really let it sink in. On Thursday, I worked at our East Portland office and I had a very odd moment standing in the elevator alone holding my box full of random desk supplies.
Yesterday my 3 co-workers took me to lunch at New Seasons. We chatted, talked about my upcoming trip and they presented me with a nice card and a bottle of sunscreen (yes, I get it already). Then it was back to the office where I signed some papers and they took my badge. After a couple hugs and cleaning out the last of my desk, I was gone. I didn't even cry! I got a bit teary walking to my car, but was proud of myself for holding it together.
Then I got home.
And Mark hugged me. And it was all over. I think I was in the fetal position on the living room floor for about 20 minutes. Tears of sadness, of fear, of relief. But mostly tears because I am now dependent on Mark for my survival. I don't have a job and that is a really scary feeling. I never wanted to be dependent on anyone and giving up so much for him is a really scary leap.
But, I'm leaving in 36 hours for my great European Adventure! I still don't think it's hit me that I'm going to be in Europe with my best friend. I'm very excited!
I feel like this is the first of many big changes and I'm nervous and anxious and excited and scared to see what the next 4 months hold for me. But I'm glad I have a wonderful, supportive sugar daddy fiancé to stand beside me.

It's happening

Secrets are not fun. Secrets are hard to keep and even harder to keep if there are a bunch of them all intertwined together in a mess of secrecy and lies. So now, finally, our secret(s) are out and I can finally stop walking on eggshells and worrying if I let something slip.

Here goes...

I'm quitting my job and we are moving to Arizona.

Phew. I feel better already.

I put in my 2 weeks at work last Thursday. It was by far the worst part of this whole journey. I had rehearsed it in my head a million times, but once those words came out of my mouth, I lost it. How professional of me. Luckily my boss was super supportive and even hugged me (weird). But it still stings. I love this job. I'm perfect for this job. I'm lucky I found this job. It's hard to leave. And it's even harder to leave because of someone else's opportunities. Don't get me wrong, I would follow Mark to the end of the Earth, but moving to a place Mark used to live, that Mark loves, for Mark's job is really challenging for me. When I moved to Portland, it was for me. It was because I wanted an adventure and I had an internship waiting for me. Now, I am following someone else on their adventure and I'm struggling to find where mine is and how it fits in. I am proud of myself for finding this job and for working hard and suffering through shitty jobs and finally starting a career. Now I'm walking away from it. From my independence, really. I never wanted to be reliant on anyone else. But now I'm moving to a place I've only been as a tourist, where Mark has already established a life and I'm doing it with all the hope and ambition I can possibly muster up, but I'm truly doing it knowing I might not find anything as great as I have now.
But there's not much I can do besides mourn this loss, pick myself up and move on with my life. I am moving with my future husband and the man who I never want to live without. I certainly didn't have that when I moved to Portland. Arizona is just going to be a new chapter, the first chapter, really, in our new life together.
Plus, I get to go to Europe! My BFFFE Amanda is living in Poland and teaching English. So, I'm going to meet her, her mom and sister and we are traveling around Europe for almost 3 weeks! We'll head to Krakow, Warsaw, Berlin, Prague and Amsterdam! I'm very excited! I need to start packing!

Big Day!

Today was a big day. Today I went to the gym.  It was glorious. I may be in awful shape, but I enjoyed every painful, sweaty, breathless moment. Victory!!

6 months!!

Yesterday was exactly 6 months since I tore my ACL. I can’t believe it’s been that long. Sometimes it seems like just a few days ago and sometimes it feels like forever ago. Either way you look at it, I am definitely getting stronger, droopy leg is un-drooping and my scars are as impressive as ever. Here’s the deets:


PT: still twice a week, but then I’m down to once a week after next week. I don’t know what I’ll do with all my free time! PT at home is the correct answer.

Bend: I’m up to about 115degrees. This has been very challenging. When I hit 90, I was able to start weight-bearing so we didn’t focus on my bend very much after that. I am still making improvements every time, but not as much as before. BUT, having John force my leg to bend beyond its capabilities for an hour and until I was in tears was not that fun. So glad to be beyond that!

Straighten: I’m still having to work at this every day. It’s straight, but doesn’t want to hyperextend like my left leg. I have a feeling I’ll be working on these for a while.

Exercises: This is fun again! We are doing “monsters”(squatting and taking diagonal, forward steps with the band around my ankles). Side steps with the band. One legged squats while throwing the ball against the trampoline. Bosu squats with weights. Hamstring curls on the ball. Leg press. And my least favorite- steps (literally stepping onto and over a step). This week was the first time I was on the elliptical! And also on the stair stepper- backwards. Its pretty pathetic how out of shape I am. But it’s progress!

Pain: I’m definitely sore after a hard day of PT. And of course when I push my knee to bend or straighten more than it wants to.

So what’s next? I got good news this week from my vascular surgeon: my blood clot is officially harmless. It’s basically glued itself in there, has smoothed over and shouldn’t cause me any more problems! So, I officially gave up my stupid compression socks- just in time for the nice weather, too!

I still have another month or so of physical therapy. I have another month until I can start straight-line running. I expect I’ll make it about 500 feet before collapsing, but it’s a great goal to work towards. I can ride my bike now, though I’ll need to switch out my clip-ins for a cage pedal before that happens. I think I might actually go un-freeze my gym membership!

Rough Life

Since it's been a while since I last shared with the world how adorable my puppy is, here you go:

Lucy's new trick

Life's Little Mysteries

Today was a bad day. I learned my stupid blood clot is back. This is really hard news to take. Even though the pain isn't as bad as the first time, I don't think I can escape the self injected blood thinners. Yes, that's right. 2 shots. In my stomach. Every day. FML.
This whole experience- the injury, the blood clot, the surgery, recovery, physical therapy and now the return of the blood clot- has been absolutely exhausting. And I feel like it's never going to end. I thought the clot was gone, I thought once I had surgery I would be making improvements every day. It hasn't been like that. I have struggled in physical therapy, pushed myself to tears, and still feel like I'm failing. Now my clot is back. I feel like my body is failing me and I just don't understand it. 
I know it could be worse, and I'm trying hard to focus on the good things: the clot isn't going to kill me, I am making progress in my recovery and I have a great fiancé to support me when it's good and especially when it's bad. But I'll say it again: today was just a bad day.

Post Surgery Recap

Well, it's 10 days post-surgery and things are getting back to normal. Ok, not normal at all. I can't walk, I have to shower sitting on the floor, I haven't shaved my legs in 11 days (ok, that's not completely abnormal), and I haven't swiffered in 2 weeks.

My new leg!

The surgery went ok. Dr. Montgomery found that my meniscus was also torn, which sucks big time. My leg has to stay locked straight for an extra 2 weeks. But the nerve block, which is what I was dreading the most was no big deal. They gave me happy drugs which made me feel super drunk and I didn't even notice the giant needle in my groin. I did notice when my leg started uncontrollably spazzing though. That was bizarre. Next thing I know, I woke up in the recovery room. That is when the fun started. Since the nerve block only took to the inside of my leg, I was having pretty severe pain already, so they gave me some medication in my IV. Well, that immediately made me sick and I spent the next hour attempting, mostly unsuccessfully, to keep the water and crackers down. I was finally able to get dressed and they wheeled me out to the car. The next few days were a blur of sleeping, taking percocet religiously and trying to contain the nausea from said Percocet. After day 3 I couldn't stand the nausea, so I stopped the Percocet completely. The pain has been pretty intense, but it's much better than being sick 24/7.
I had my post-op appointment yesterday with the surgeon and he said everything looks good. I start physical therapy next week, which will mostly just entail getting my quad to fire again and slowly start to bend my knee. I'm also going back to work next week, too. I'll be working from home for a couple of weeks, then back to work as soon as I can drive.
I am so very thankful my Mom and Mark have been here to help me. I cannot imagine doing this alone. They have been a great emotionally support and also there to bring me food and wash my hair and refill my ice machine. If Mark ever gets hurt or sick, I'll be there to repay him.

The countdown has commenced.

Well, it's the final few days until my surgery and in an attempt to thwart off my ever-growing nerves, I have spent the last 2 weeks cramming enough crap to fill 2 months. Apart from getting my work projects wrapped up, all the pre-op prep and gluten-free recipe searching, we took a trip to Colorado to visit my family and lock down some wedding details.

In 2 days we managed to book the caterer and pick all the food, book the florist and decide on all the flowers, meet and book the photographer, visit the venue and pick out the ceremony site, test cupcakes, interview 2 DJs, get my brother and Dad's suits, get snowed in and go to a John Denver tribute concert. Here are a few shots from our trip: (p.s. this blog site has the most infuriating picture formatting.  So, sorry they are all over the place)



Freezing our buns off outside the concert hall

fail 1

downtown Denver



our venue!



fail 2



ACL surgery

Guess who finally got cleared for surgery?! This girl!! Claude isn't gone, he has taken permanent residency in my leg, which will need attention down the road, but for now I've been cleared for surgery!! woo!

This is an awesome video ( rated G, don't worry) of my upcoming surgery.  I was pleasantly surprised how simple the surgery seems. Well, I hope it is anyway.

Slowly but surely

This weekend will mark 8 weeks since kneemageddon. It's astonishing it's been that long! Don't get me wrong, it still feels like FOREVER, but 8 weeks is a heck of a long time to have a gimpy leg. Just the other day an NBA player tore his ACL and I couldnt help but think how he would most likely have surgery within days and be back playing professional basketball in a few months. Man, that would be nice. But, alas, I do not have the pleasure of a team doctor, surgeon, MRI in my office building, nor a full time personal trainer and physcial therapist to ensure my quick and painless recovery. He, of course, doesnt have the pleasure of hosting Claude in his lower calf, either. So ha! Jokes on him!
But, in all seriousness, I am soo very frustrated and simply over being injured. There were small victories to celebrate in the beginning; taking my first steps, getting off crutches, going back to work, continued progress at physical therapy. But those all stopped weeks ago.  I cannot possibly improve my range of motion any more, I am walking without a limp, I am back to driving my car. There is nothing to do but wait. And wait. Until I have that ultrasound and I'm giving the thumbs up for surgery, all I can do is wait. It's agonizing. I miss being able to go to the gym and work out, I miss being able to sleep and walk down stairs and play with Lucy. I miss playing soccer- though I'm fully aware that will not happen again for a LONG time. I feel like a different person when I'm not doing those things. It's one thing to be able to run- but choose not to (like I normal do) and not to even have the choice to run. It's a very foreign and very helpless feeling.
Earlier this week, I was chatting with my boss about my leg and the status of Claude and she told me how she forgets anything is wrong because I'm so positive about it and I don't complain much. Well, no, I guess I don't (with the exception of this blog, of course). But after some thought I truly believe that because it was so bad and so painful and so scary in the beginning, what I'm going through right now isn't much to whine about. I can walk, take a shower, drive. 8 weeks ago, I couldn't even wiggle my toes because it was too painful. Funny how one event can put everything in perspective.
So, as I go into ultrasound #6 next week, keep your fingers crossed for me and remember not to take life too seriously. It's too short. And kick a soccer ball and run down the stairs for me!

Happy Birthday to Me!

Why yes, today is my birthday.  Thank you for asking.  I decided to take today off, so I can maximize my pajama wearing, cake eating, dog petting time.  So, with pajamas on, sleeping puppy at my feet, I'll take this time to recap my 26th year of life...

1. I got a new job!  Yay! It took years of looking, but it was worth it!

2. We went to Mexico!  It was a lovely week in Puerto Vallarta.  That sure sounds nice right about now.

 

3. Mark had my friends fly in for a weekend for my half birthday!  It was amazing and so much fun!

 

4. Umm... I got ENGAGED.  Just a tiny event.

 

5. We finished the Tough Mudder. Jeez, that was ridiculously difficult but it just makes it more fun to talk about.

 

6. Kneemageddon.  Tore my ACL, got a blood clot. This, unfortunately, will be following me into my 27th year. 

I have a feeling my 27th is going to be my best year yet!

Physical Therapy is hard

Ok before I even begin this, let me just start by saying it's a terrible idea to Google image search a surgery you will be having very soon.  Most of the images that come up are not pretty, nor are the people in them conscious and/or smiling.  That being said, there will probably be no pictures associated with this blog.

So, seeing as Claude, my very affectionate and loving bloodclot, decided he will take up residence in my posterior tibial vein I have no choice but to wait until the next ice age to have my surgery.  In the meantime, I've been kicking ass in physical therapy.  Now, that might mean something different to everyone, it sure wasn't what I thought it would be.  I knew it would be hard, but I didn't think it would be so mentally and physically exhausting.

Before kneemageddon and before Claude came into my life, I would run and bike and play soccer and jump and hike and dance and do anything and everything I wanted.  Now, I have to focus and push myself beyond my tolerance to just bend my knee to tie my shoe.  I have to hold on to the bar to do a squat. Sliding my foot forward and back is now the equivalent of me doing 100 push-ups 2 months ago.

Injuring myself has been an experience.  A terrible, painful, humbling experience. To me, injuries used to be a set back, something that might keep me on the sidelines for a few days.  But when your injury effects your ability to walk, work, live your life normally- it's something completely different.  I look at the person walking up the stairs and I think how lucky they are.  How they don't know how good they have it.  It's a bizarre and helpless feeling.  It's also very motivating.  Instead of going to the gym to lose some love handles, I am going to the gym to regain to use of my leg.

Never in a million years did I think I would be in this position, one where I was going to doctor's appointments more than I go the the grocery store. I thought I was healthy, invincible.  It's funny how naive and silly I was.  Life is a crazy adventure, but it is an adventure.