jetsetgreen

Saturday, December 29, 2012

The Core that Wouldn't Work


My core is broken.



Last summer I had an emergency abdominal surgery and even though I was mostly good (swearsies) about taking it easy, my body had other ideas. I developed complications that mean I'll have to have another surgery in a couple weeks. I guess I'm old enough to need a new timing belt.

I tried to start back into a regular exercise routine in October, determined to lose the weight of my last baby. Every time I tried to do more than a gentle walk my stomach felt like it had performed 12 straight hours of Pilates  And then it got worse.

I could barely walk around Costco (and I walk around Costco a lot) without the pain overwhelming me. I wasn't tired, I wasn't winded, I had energy, but my body just shut it down. The pain became debilitating. Not being able to do basic physical activity is the worst. I am a busy person. I have a life. I have kids. I don't have time for my body not working the way it's supposed to. Silly body. Without exercise, and with limited physical activity, I've put on more weight instead of losing; it's a chunk of pretty special.

I had my first CT scan last week to diagnose me (after the doctor couldn't find anything at our regular appointment.) However, since my symptoms only occur after being physically active, and usually at the end of the day when I've tried to move heaven and earth, I decided to bring on the pain while at the imaging place.

That's why, if you were hanging around Imaging last Friday, and you were paying attention, you would have seen me in a smart blouse, skinny jeans, heeled boots, and my headphones booking it around the halls. The other people in pain, dealing with cancer, and all manner of other legitimate ailments stared at me, and with good reason. I ran sprints, I did lunges, I ran up and down stairs, I ran around the building, and every ten minutes I'd make it back to the waiting room to drink another Dixie cup full of orange juice and contrast. Delicious. The imaging techs were laughing. And I didn't stop until I felt the now familiar ache and stab of a body out of order. Hold your breath for the CT.

The doctor explained my diagnosis late that Friday, and referred me to a surgeon. The doctor also told me to sit down until my surgery and officially to take it easy. Do not like. I'll have to wait another 3 months before exercising seriously, which, to be honest, is hard to take. I don't think I'll be allowed to pick up Lulu. Someone will have to explain that to HER, because I think it's going to be a problem. She will probably yell at me. Elder abuse.

This week was particularly hard since J came down with the bubonic death flu and we got a foot of snow. Our driveway and walk are still piled high, and dragging out the garbage cans was an exercise in awful. I walked around Costco today and only had to sit down once. Someday, in the wild and hazy future, I have a feeling I'll be able to walk the whole way 'round Costco, maybe even the parking lot, without my guts falling out. Cross your fingers and curl your toes, my core shall return.










8 comments:

Jenny said...

That sounds really terrible. But way to rock the whole experience by dressing so sharp for your CT. You're my role model.

Michelle said...

Wah! I'm so sorry.

I'll come hold Lulu for you.

La Yen said...

Sounds like it's funeral potatoes time...

Naomi said...

Oh no! I hope you get the problem fixed and recover well.

{natalie} said...

Dude, this sucks.

I will be happy to deliver Cubby's to you AND hold LuLu. I'm for real.

Ps. I didn't see you Sat but it was crazy town on returns so I'll let it slide.

Geo said...

So sad for you. But I believe in your core. xo

Vanessa said...

yes I'll cross my fingers and curl my toes for you. Miss Lulu...yes yes let everyone come hold her for you.

Bebe McGooch said...

I had no idea, friend. I hope the second surgery goes well.