So long, Chuck.

These used to be my most beloved shoes. I loved them all the more as they became worn and faded. They’ve sat on a shelf in my closet for almost two years. I put my Converse away before my first spinal fusion, because I needed, for a time anyway, to wear slip-on shoes. No bending allowed. But they haven’t seen pavement (um, with the exception of this photograph) since I stowed them on that shelf. I have nerve damage in my big toes – a common and expected result from spinal fusions as the L5 nerve to the feet must be moved during the operation – and any pressure (from shoes that were probably too tight to begin with) hurts them. Now I have to wear ugly, wide shoes that don’t press on my toes. The nerve damage causes a weakness and an inability to resist force – as in, I step down from a bus and my toe gives out. And it hurts. I used to feel the pain in both of my big toes on a fairly constant basis, but the left one has only been caving in against the sidewalk periodically and I’m sure the right is close to follow. My doctor said to give it nine months to two years (from the date of surgery). Either way, I think that my Converse are retired for good. But they’ll stay on the shelf. And if I move, I’m sure that I’ll be tempted to bring them along. They remind me of my pre-spinal-fusion life; of a time when I didn’t even know that I needed surgery. That time hardly seems real anymore, but I guess these shoes are proof.

Road Kill

Last night, a block party was going on in front of my house. Astrid was coming to pick me up so we could go out for ice cream. I told her to meet me at the end of my street. As I was waiting for her car to pull up, I spotted this poor toy frog. I wished that I had brought my camera. This morning, Ginger (my dog) and I walked down the street. I photographed, she pulled on the leash to cross the street. Pinky the Pomeranian came by and barked at Ginger like he wanted to rip her to pieces. He neglected to notice that he (minus the poofy hair) is just about the size of her head (she does not have poofy hair). That explains the picture.

One big, smooshed together post.

Get your ducks in a row.

I’ve been meaning to update my blog every week for the past three weeks, so instead of multiple entries, here is one big, smooshed together post about my trips into the city for physical therapy and other stuff:

Next week will be my fifth week of Physical Therapy and the first time that I only need to go in for one appointment instead of two. As I progress in my therapy, I am able to move more and the exercises become easier, or, less hard, as I’ve learned to say. Calling an exercise easy quickly eliminates it from your routine and advances you to the next level. Not that I’m not totally psyched when I get new exercises (it means that I’m getting stronger), but blending in the easier stuff gives me a bit of a break in my routine. And then there’s the fact that with each new exercise, I still find it hard to believe that my body will actually be able to go there, that it will not break. This is not a totally irrational fear, because my back did happen to break a few months ago after my first spinal fusion failed. My physical therapists tell me that this mistrust in my own body will fade, but I wonder how long it will take. In The History of Love, Nicole Krauss writes about an Age of Glass when “everyone believed some part of him or her to be extremely fragile. For some it was a hand, for others a femur, yet others believed it was their noses that were made of glass…. This period lasted a relatively short time…. about a century.” She goes on to write that the illusion became vestigial, that this feeling of fragility resurfaced from time to time after the Age of Glass was thought to be over. I wonder if and when my fear that my back will break again or that I’ll eventually need another fusion will go away, or if it will remain for the most part dormant but always waiting and able to creep into my thoughts.

So, enough of that slightly depressing stuff! I haven’t just been sitting around afraid that I’m going to break. I’ve been enjoying this new stronger and less painful me. I’ve seen my friends more often in the past four weeks than during my two years of surgeries and recoveries. My PT is in the city, so I stay with my dad and am able to see my friends who live in and around New York. Three weeks ago, I made falafels for Joe (and my dad) from this Cooking Light recipe (I doubled the recipe and served them on top of a salad instead of in a pita). We got bubble tea and went to a nearby park that I discovered with Christina, Pam and Lakshmi. There we saw two huge rats either fighting or loving it out. They were close enough that I could see that one had a bald patch on his butt. We also saw a girl walking a cat on a leash. It didn’t seem to mind at all. The cat only reminded me that I want a cat of my own to name after a Harry Potter character and possibly walk on a leash. Last week I made fajitas for Christina (and, again, my dad). (I thought) they were pretty good and if anyone wants the very simple recipe let me know and I’ll post it. After dinner, Christina and I listened to the Pinkberry theme song (PIN-KBE-RRY, pinkberry!) until we could actually hear it’s echo bouncing around our skulls (Pinkberry for me, Pinkberry!). Soon after that, Jon joined us for the swirly goodness (as it’s called on their website), and we discovered that pinkberry actually is swirly and good and hopefully not just a fad (I still love Bubble Tea!).

Other than seeing my friends more often, these past weeks have brought a couple of other post-surgery firsts. For one thing, I’ve ridden the subway a few times. Initially, I was terrified that I wouldn’t find a seat and that someone would smash into my back. It’s been fine, though I did almost fall when a woman tried to get to the exit before the car had stopped. The train is certainly faster than the bus, but I do miss looking out the windows as I travel from one destination to another. Lately, riding the MTA buses is the only time that I can appreciate the city views. My former New York internships were basically walking tours of the city – I got to know Tribeca (when I was at Sherry Films), Soho (Elevation Filmworks) and the East Village (The Poetry Project at St. Marks Church). But since my surgeries, stepping onto the New York streets has a dizzying affect. I’m instantly overwhelmed and unable to notice even the storefronts. As I’m walking, I can only focus on the throngs of people as I try to navigate around them. Without my cane, which created an invisible yet impenetrable two-foot circle around me, I am constantly trying to protect myself from the people that could hurt me. This is a perfect example of how my own Age of Glass affects not only my psyche but my behavior. In fact, I don’t think that I would have ever noticed Pinkberry were I to have walked by it instead of ridden passed on the bus on my way to PT.

I don’t necessarily think of my new reaction to the city as a negative. It’s only one of the things that I’ve noticed has changed since my surgeries. I’ve also discovered that I love to cook. I’ve rediscovered that I can be happy going places and doing thing in books when I can’t go or do on my own. As I child, I read as many books as I could. They were my video games, my TV. But they were also my friends when I didn’t have many. Though that lonely, friendless part of me that only went places, did things, and had friends in books all but disappeared in high school and especially college, I welcomed her back during my recovery time after my surgeries. And, although the going and doing with friends that has happened in the last few weeks has been absolutely wonderful, my surgeries made me realize that I can be satisfied by very little – if I would even dare to describe a book as very little.

Another post-surgeries first that is very exciting is swimming! A few PT sessions ago, I was cleared for swimming – only certain strokes like the breaststroke and sidestroke that don’t cause an extension, or curving, of my back. The public pool (for which I, upon learning that I could swim, promptly bought a badge) is only open on weekends until school lets out. So I was only able to go once last week, but I still managed to stress out my back. I went to physical therapy with a gargantuan knot to the left of my lumbar spine. They gave me a massage and told me to relax a bit on my exercise routine and to limit my swimming to not actually swimming. Just walking in the water. Tak and Brian, my physical therapists (Tak is doing his internship under Brian), told me to lie on top of a tennis ball and try to massage the knot out. I tried it a couple of times (Jon and Christina can attest to that), but it just hurt more. At my session on Thursday, I had an electrode machine and a heat pack on my back to loosen the knot, and another massage but still no luck. I told Brian that even after a year and a half of constant pain, I had managed to get used to feeling better (which I had been since starting PT). Three weeks had spoiled me. Apparently, I like being spoiled.

I figured that it would take a few days to get rid of this knot, and today (Sunday) it’s finally feeling better. I went to the pool yesterday and this afternoon and didn’t overexert myself – just some light kicking while holding onto the edge and today I added a bit of sidestroke. As I was walking home, I realized that my back wasn’t hurting. I felt for the knot and it was still there, but had majorly decreased in size and pain. Wahoo! Besides knot removal (or lessening), the pool is also good for reading. In these past two days, I have almost finished The History of Love. It’s been taking me an absurdly long time as I’ve only been reading on the train to and from the city. In other exciting news, I actually talked to Teresa twice this week! Two times in one week is a record!

Here are a couple of shout-outs:
The first goes to Tak, even though he will never read this blog. He was doing his internship for his PhD at the place that I go to for PT. I worked with him for four weeks, but he finished his internship on Friday, so I’ll probably never see him again. But he did a great job. Now it’s back to Brian. Well not really back to, more like starting over with.
My second shout-out goes to Pam, who read and commented on my blog even though she’s in Berlin. I hope you’re having a great time! Come back sooner than later. To my blog and this country.

The following pictures (and the one at the top of this post) were taken during a fun night about two weeks ago right before Pam left the country. I saved talking about it for these pictures, but, to sum it up, Cui, Lakshmi, Tif, Christina, Pam, Randi and I all went out for dinner and bubble tea.



T(if)L(akshmi)C(ui)



C(hristina)P(am)R(andi)



We sat on the second floor at Lili's for the first time. In this picture, I like that the word sushi is reflected on a mirror on the first floor.



After dinner, Jon joined us (he's on his Blackberry!). Pam, Randi, Chris, Jon and I went to this new coffee shop called M. Rohr's for some tea (I guess we hadn't had enough bubble tea). It was cute and pretty homey. Much less crowded and hipster-ish than DT-UT, which is closing next week anyway.



Two chairs at M. Rohr's.

I use weights!

I think that I gave physical therapy a bad rap in my last PT post. After I left PT today, I realized (or, maybe, it was pointed out to me by my physical therapist…) that I’m going to have good days and bad days in what inevitably will be a long recovery). Yes, these exercises kill my already annihilated muscles, but I can’t expect to be better in one week when it took a year and a half to get me this way. My last post just reflected my disappointment at the pain catching up with me after feeling so awesome at the start of physical therapy. Apparently, I was doing too much exercising once I got home. Go figure – me an excessive exerciser? Ha, I say! I’m just going to have to embrace my inner underachiever and not expect too much from myself too soon.

I am proud to say, however, that today was my hardest session of PT yet. They kicked up my routine to a level two by adding a truly wicked exercise. Of course, I’m sure the physical therapist just made that up to make me feel better about that exercise being so hard, but I’ll be damned if I don’t brag about it anyway. Level two, baby! I’ve also been doing weighted exercises for my legs and I might be moving up from ten pounds to twenty! Level two, baby! But just in case you’re worried that I might get carried away and try to pump it up to a level three tonight, let me assure you – I’m going to go lie down and watch a DVD. Gee, this underachieving feels an awful lot like my last year and a half…

The Most Delightful Turkish Delight

I like this photo best - that's why it's first.

Where does one find the most delightful Turkish Delight? Turkey, I suspect. Actually, I know. About two years ago, a woman in my dad's office went home to Turkey for a vacation and brought back some real Turkish Delight. The most delightful Turkish Delight that I have ever had. I bought the candy seen in these photos today - at Corrado's Family Market - and it's the best I've had since. I've only ever tried one other variety (excepting that first real stuff), but as that was a travesty of epic proportions, finding a comparable option is blog worthy (or maybe not?).



Isn't the suspense just killing you?



Not yet unveiled...



Almost.



I ate a piece. Sort of wish I had gotten the bigger box.

Blueberry Goat Cheese Bagel

Blueberry Goat Cheese Bagel

This is a recipe for Pam, because it involves goat cheese and Pam has loved (or, at least, liked, right?) goat cheese ever since she first tried it at my dad’s apartment. If you aren’t a fan of goat cheese or just don’t have any, you can use cream cheese instead. I promise that if you try this, you’ll feel like you’re eating something gourmet. A blueberry-covered goat cheese that I got from Costco inspired this recipe. It was delicious spread over a piece of multi-grain health bread. The following is even better.

Toast a blueberry bagel, spread on some warmed (or at room temperature) goat cheese, and top with fresh or frozen blueberries. When I've made this, I’ve only used frozen blueberries, so I warm them for twenty seconds in the microwave and then add my slice of goat cheese and put it in for another twenty seconds.

Happy Memorial Day!

Physical Therapy

I’ve been meaning to post an update on my back for a while so here you go. Two weeks ago, I went into the city for my six-month appointment after my spinal fusion and the doctor said that everything has healed perfectly (hooray!). That means that my L4, L5 and S1 vertebrae – or the bottom three in the spine – have formed a solid and unbendable piece (which did not happen after my February 06 surgery, causing my screws to break). Being solid and unbendable also means unbreakable, at least in terms of physical therapy. So I started last week.

I had two appointments already. After my first appointment, I was amazed at how easy the exercises felt. My back didn’t hurt a bit – only my much-neglected (on doctor’s orders!) muscles burned. And it wasn’t a painful, mutinous burn, but a thankful and long awaited pain. On my second visit, I was even allowed to use a weight machine for the legs, which caused them to wobble as my thighs remembered that they weren’t really made entirely of Jell-O (yuck!). But I welcomed this feeling and even encouraged it again once I got home only to be surprised – my arms, my legs, my back suddenly weren’t grateful. They were angry!

My muscles that had be so patiently atrophying for a year and a half were angry like my back when I got home from the hospital after my first surgery. Before my spinal fusion, I expected to wake out of anesthesia in total and utter agony. I’d been told that I would feel like I’d been hit by a truck. In my first moments of consciousness, I braced myself against the pain. Only it didn’t come. I didn’t feel anything. Literally. I was totally numb from the chest down. I was also mentally numb and the morphine haze left me feeling like I was drifting somewhere above my body. Sure that the hit-by-a-truck pain would start any second, I hit the button that sent the numbing morphine through a tube going into my spine as often as I was allowed – every ten minutes.

As I got up the courage to wean myself off the epidural and transition to pills (induced by the constant painful vomiting caused by said morphine and the fact that I couldn’t go home with a needle in my spine), I expected to feel the residual effects of my truck accident, I mean back surgery, but I didn’t. I’m not saying that I didn’t feel pain, but it was manageable. I guess that’s why they call the doctor’s that figure out your perfect pill regimen pain management doctors. After I was discharged from the hospital – with a prescription for half a dosage of a mild narcotic in an attempt to stave off the nausea – and moving around more (you only do physical therapy twice a day if you’re lucky in the hospital) the pain started to show up.

Just as my first surgery seemed easier then the horror that I imagined, my first physical therapy sessions seemed a piece of cake compared to the warnings I received from several people in which I would “really, really hurt”. And just as I didn’t feel the gravity of my surgery until my second week out, I didn’t feel the effect of my physical therapy until a few days later. But that pain lets me know that my exercises are doing something, and, after all, I expected it so it shouldn’t really come as a surprise. I thought my muscles were eagerly waiting to be put back in form, but it turns out they got used to being lazy, couch potatoes and are going to put up a fight. They were shocked into compliance during those first couple of PT sessions but now they’ve got on their boxing gloves. Which is fine. They don’t realize it yet, but that’s exactly how I want them.

PS - I finished the Mists of Avalon a couple of weeks ago and have moved on to The History of Love by Nicole Krauss (as recommended, again, by Pam). If you have an opinion on the next book that I should read, let me know. I'm thinking something by Philip Pullman. Maybe The Golden Compass, part one of the His Dark Materials series. Look out for posts on a recipe for Pam and pictures from my Bubble Tea adventure with Christina and two surprises!