livelihood [lahyv-lee-hood]

a means of supporting one's existence, esp. financially or vocationally

Synonyms include: living, means, sustenance, support

It's unusual that I'd forget something like posting a "Happy Thanksgiving!" greeting on my blog. I've often scheduled posts of that nature days ahead of time so I won't forget, knowing full well that I'm probably the only one who, pardon my language, gives a shit whether or not I did. So you missed writing about ONE holiday, Anna. You've still got Christmas and New Year's, right? But then I came home an hour ago, and as I got ready for bed, running the day's events through my head, I suddenly felt compelled to sit down and type out this random stream of consciousness.

I woke up this morning...I greeted my 83-year old grandmother hello...I had lunch at Yardhouse this afternoon with some of my aunts...I bought a pair of new flats...My 84- year old grandfather and I were joking around as he sped down the 210...Ninang said that Tito Boy was craving ice cream...I went to the garage to get something from my car...Dad brought up a basket of laundry that he had done for me...I chit-chatted with mom about needing a cute sweater to go with my dress...I wrapped some gifts...I went to the ATM to withdraw cash...I edited photos as Tin recounted her day at work...I hugged Jhoette...I ate at a Chinese restaurant with friends...Mary-Clare fell asleep while I was holding her...I took pictures...I patted Iya's tummy and said, "Hello babies!"...I cried a tiny bit with Rochelle...I laughed so hard I started choking...Riann and Joe drove me home...and now I'm blogging.

These are how and why I'm alive; not for or because of huge life-altering milestones, but for the small pockets of time that are inserted so carefully into each of my days that I barely notice them building such a blessed lifetime.

I could go on and on about how thankful I am for my family, my friends, my job and everything I have because of it, but trying to do so would seem futile. I could try to sound clever or poignant, but there are just not enough sentiments in the universe that could describe the gratitude I feel for this life that God decided I get to have. Sometimes I have to ask, "Lord, me? You're letting me have this?" A few moments after, I often feel a warmth in my chest and all I can say or think is...

Thank you.

disarray [dis-uh-rey]

disorder; confusion

Synonyms include: disorder; confusion

I can't wait until my right foot is no longer wrapped in gauze and ace bandages so I don't have to wrap it in plastic every time I have to take a shower.  I can't wait until I no longer have to wear this big bulky boot so I can wear both of my shoes. I can't wait until I can hop around, jump around...heck, I can't wait until I can stand without cringing because it just plain hurts. In another week or so, I know I'll be all good because all this waiting should be over and I'll be healed! To that I will surely yell, "Amen!"

To think this all started with a sprained ankle that I didn't rest enough and just allowed to get worse and worse over the last 2 years. My goodness, did I honestly think it was just going to go away?! Talk about self-proclaimed prophecy! I have a bad habit of going on like something isn't bothering me in hopes that if I stayed quiet, whatever it was would walk away and leave me alone. Oh weak ankle, accessory navicular, poor little tendon - I'm so sorry for ignoring you.

I've had to take impromptu days off from the office and have tried to work from home because of all these surgeries that I did not think were not so minor. I hate not being prepared; and worse, I hate not helping other people like my boss and co-workers get prepared in my absence. My room is a hot mess too...well, by MY standards anyway. It's dusty, the laundry is piling up and grrrr, I hate that. I need to write and edit photos, but these pain helpers =) make me so drowsy I can barely sit up. 

Sooooo, are pain killers supposed to kill the pain or knock you out so that you don't feel any? Just wondered about that today.

Anyhow, I didn't mean to sound like a big, fat complainer. Just wanted to say I can't wait until I no longer have right foot issues. =) There are far greater things and people in my life whose health I'm praying for. Tendinitis fails in comparison and more than anything, I can't wait for them to get better even sooner.

Shannon, Ron-Ron with...Toni Braxton?!

Toni Braxton playin cougar to Shannon Brown (who looks kinda hottie) and then replacing him with Ron Artest! Random! And you know how Shannon kinda looks like Chris Brown? Do you love that one scene where Toni had Rihanna's short haircut? Hmmm....

tendon [ten-duhn]

Anatomy. a cord or band of dense, tough, inelastic, white, fibrous tissue, serving to connect a muscle with a bone or part; sinew

Synonyms include: pain in my rear

This morning when I woke up, I wasn't sure what felt worse - knowing that the Lakers let punks like Chris Andersen, Kenyon Martin and JR Smith kick them to the curb, or the fact that in a few hours, Dr. Blaine would be sticking a big fat needle into my ankle. At 5:45 am, it was a toss-up. I did manage to forget last night's game though, trying to be a more sensible fan these days and realizing that in an 82 game season, losses, though never easy to swallow, are part of the game and if Kobe wasn't worried, why should I be?

Anyhow, Mom and Dad kindly accompanied me to to the Atlantic Medical Center in Long Beach so that I wouldn't have to bother with medical transport, as interesting as an experience that might've been. At around 7:30 am, I walked into the most hospitable waiting room I'd ever seen. The floors were cherry hardwood, accented with white moldings, and the walls were painted a warm taupe. A large couch upholstered with a lovely floral pattern sat by the window; in front of it was a coffee table topped with magazines, a flatscreen tv was mounted on the wall, and surrounding it all were armchairs fit for any country-themed living room. They really know how to make a patient feel comfortable here, I thought.

After filling out the necessary consent forms (and a few rounds of paper toss on my iTouch. Man, I suck at that game), I was ushered in and asked to get dressed. "Hospital gown and shower cap? I thought, for a cortisone injection on my ankle? But who am I to question pre-procedure routines, right? I got dressed and was asked to wait in a make-shift patient's room, complete with hospital bed, monitors of every kind, plastic storage bins...and a flatscreen tv? haha. Funny. I've NEVER had to sit on a hospital bed as a patient before. I really thought this injection would be like a flu shot, which I've also never had but my point is, I thought it would be a quick procedure. I think after the nurse asked me a round of medical history/background questions, I finally realized what a big deal this was turning out to be.

Dr. Blaine, a man of about 60 I'm guessing, is tall, with gray hair and a mustache to match. Seriously the nicest, friendliest doctor I've ever had. He came in and explained that I actually had a torn tendon in my ankle. Shocker. I really had no idea. So in addition to the cortisone shot, he would also be doing an additional procedure to repair the tendon. My goodness, how could I have gone on the last 2 years with a torn tendon?!

There were so many people who helped me this morning. The nurse who settled me in to the room, a medical assistant who ran some nervous and vascular system tests, a physicians assistant who came in for a last round of checks, the nurse who had the unlucky task of trying to find a vein on my arm to set up the IV and the anesthesiology nurse. In addition to Dr. Blaine, was also Dr. Freeman, the anesthesiologist, dealer of the "happy juice."

After all the pre-op stuff, which took about 2 hours, I finally laid down in the operating room, feet propped up on a firm pillow, happy juice running through my veins and before you could say, chronic tendonosis, I was out.

I woke up to a nurse asking if I was feeling okay and if I wanted some crackers and juice. In not exactly these words, I said, Hell yes, I'm starving. In the next 20 minutes or so, I had my IV taken out, I was snacking on Keebler cheese and crackers, sipping on apple juice and wearing my new boot. Another boot.

I got dressed, a nurse wheeled me out to the elevator to meet my dad, and before we got in, Dr. Blaine came running out with a box from Polly's Pies to bid me good-bye until my next follow-up appointment. Oh, and he also gave me a pair of tickets to a Clippers-Rockets game on December 2nd. Section 117! Who wants to join me? =)

"If you can't make it that day," he said, "call me and I'll give you another game." Heck, I'll take this game. I'll get to see Trevor!

Wow...when did doctors start giving out pies and basketball tickets to their patients? My parents said that when they were in the waiting room, a nurse came in carrying boxes and boxes of pies! Crazy.

Now I'm home, in my boot, my foot still numb, which I'm not going to complain about because I don't know how much pain to anticipate. I've got two choices of meds to help me out: Ultram for minor pain relief and, if the pain feels unbearable, dependable ol' Vicodin.

And that is my Saturday so far. Time to fold some laundry...

intestinal fortitude [in-tes-tuh-nl fawr-ti-tood]
courage and perseverance; grit; pluck: a euphemism for “guts”
Synonyms include: well...what the previous line has =)

Phil Jackson used this term once to describe Derek Fisher. At first I was like, "what? Derek Fisher's intestines?" Selective hearing, I know. But his point was, D Fish has some guts! Must've been talking about Game 4 =)

Guts...not exactly a word I would use to describe too much of myelf. I feel like a coward when it comes to so many situations and I've hidden it under the guise of "peacemaker" or "easygoing" or "faithful." The truth was sometimes, I just didn't have the guts to fight for or believe in myself, and when you can't do that, what's left of your purpose in life?

I'm so very blessed to have people in my life who are always cheering me on, encouraging me, helping me see something in myself that I refuse to believe I could have. Maybe it's a fear of failure; maybe it's a fear of succeeding; maybe it's a fear of placing myself in a position where I'll be heralded one second, and called a fraud the next. For every prayer I say asking to achieve something, is another dozen prayers asking for help to keep it. Prayer feeds the soul, but faith is what keeps you full and I think my lack of it is what has kept me so famished lately despite daily feedings =)

I blogged a little while ago about disappointment, and how I have little to no effective way of handling it. In the end I was reminded of a line from my favorite movie and many related thoughts and words of wisdom...

When the Lord closes a door, some way He opens a window.

When God says No to one thing, He's saying Yes to something else.

God said, "No you can't go to CalTech and be an engineer, but you can go to UC Irvine and discover what you love and you can meet friends that you'll have forever."

"No you can't stay in Washington, DC, but you can come home and help raise the baby sister you prayed for."

"No you can't buy a Lexus IS (like I really needed it), because you'll love the Rav4 more."

"No you can't get paid to write for the LA Times or the New Yorker or freakin' Martha Stewart Living...(yet), but how about writing about something that you actually love for nothing more than the satisfaction of knowing you wrote it?"

That prayer that asks for serenity to accept things we can't change, also asks for the courage to change the things we can. Courage...guts...intestinal fortitude...

Love you guys and I can't wait to meet the little ones!!! =)

Thanks, B. McKnight!

Today my daily calendar says to me:

"When we are unable to find tranquility within ourselves, it is useless to seek it elsewhere."
~ Francois de La Rochefoucauld