state of the laura: lacking in essential nutrients and covered in scabs
I AM LEAVING THAT TITLE MY GOD I AM BRILLIANT.
Okay, so with the new job came new, normal hours. Yay, evenings with the boys! Boo, lost my prime walking time. For the past 6 months I have had a hell of a time figuring out how to get some cardio back into my routine (and boy howdy, I did not realize just how much the cardio was working. Things are fitting differently without it, and I do not like it. I try not to get obsessed with the scale, because that only leads to not-so-great places in my brain, but I've not got money for a new wardrobe). I tried adding extra stuff to the yoga, but all that did was make me not want to do yoga. So last week I was considering how I tend to sleep, and I decided since I'm usually awake at 6 anyway, I might as well haul myself out of bed and do 20 minutes of biking before work.
So yesterday was Day 1 of that. I get up, get the workout clothes on, lace up the shoes, grab the phone and the earbuds, don my helmet, wheel the bike out.
I get on the bike, start to pedal, and the gears slip (I think), my foot comes off the pedal, I have no balance at that point, we all know exactly how klutzy I am; I ripped my ACL climbing onto a jet ski, and I wipe out in the driveway before I even get started. I cushioned the bike's fall, though. Yay?
So now I am covered in road rash. Let's see--the left knee, that has taken all the trauma since I was nine? Badly skinned as a child, ACL surgery, skinned again during the Rafting Trip O' Doom in North Carolina when we all fell out of the boat? Yeah, major nasty scrape all over that. Also some to the side of it. Left elbow is scraped all to hell. I scraped the last three knuckles of my left hand. I also, somehow, got part of my right ankle. I have some interesting bruises along my back and ribs.
BUT I AM NOTHING IF NOT HARD CORE! I took my morning bike ride, baby! And it was nice. A burrowing owl swooped thisclose to my face; I listened to "Tiny Dancer" as the sun came up. I was not eaten by a cougar.
Once I got home, Scott helped to patch me up and off I went to the doctor. This is a new doctor, and she and I have been in discussions regarding my lack of spleen and what that means for my bloodwork results (yay, constant high white cell count); yesterday she was reassured that, yes, this is normal for me, so I'm glad about that.
But. There is always a but. I have a nice vitamin D deficiency going.
(waits for the "Whaaaa?" to fade out. Also points out this is the second round of bloodwork, so I'm feeling pretty confident in the results.)
That's right, all you pale-skinned northern kids can take your porcelain complections and go home--I'm so hardcore I have a vitamin D deficiency in the goddamned sunshine state. If I wasn't honorary goth before, I am now.
The googling about what lack of vitamin D can cause was quite interesting--I am most looking forward to the possibility that I'll be able to sleep through the night again once this gets straightened out--and I'm on a once a week dose of prescription vitamin D. This might take a year to regulate (woot?), but that just means an entire year of inappropriate "D" jokes from David and Jason, so hey.
There are a gazillion possible reasons as to how or why I am, in this way, deficient as a human. I have no idea what really caused it: my tendency toward layering? My lack of exterior windows at this job and the last one? Too much sunblock? Age and weight? My hatred of the hideous light of the daystar? Who knows.
So, in the end, that's me. Everything hurts, possibly because of lack of ... um ... D (heheheheh), certainly because I remain a klutz, but my sense of humor is intact and I get out of "let the child climb on you like a human jungle gym" until the scabs clear up.
Okay, so with the new job came new, normal hours. Yay, evenings with the boys! Boo, lost my prime walking time. For the past 6 months I have had a hell of a time figuring out how to get some cardio back into my routine (and boy howdy, I did not realize just how much the cardio was working. Things are fitting differently without it, and I do not like it. I try not to get obsessed with the scale, because that only leads to not-so-great places in my brain, but I've not got money for a new wardrobe). I tried adding extra stuff to the yoga, but all that did was make me not want to do yoga. So last week I was considering how I tend to sleep, and I decided since I'm usually awake at 6 anyway, I might as well haul myself out of bed and do 20 minutes of biking before work.
So yesterday was Day 1 of that. I get up, get the workout clothes on, lace up the shoes, grab the phone and the earbuds, don my helmet, wheel the bike out.
I get on the bike, start to pedal, and the gears slip (I think), my foot comes off the pedal, I have no balance at that point, we all know exactly how klutzy I am; I ripped my ACL climbing onto a jet ski, and I wipe out in the driveway before I even get started. I cushioned the bike's fall, though. Yay?
So now I am covered in road rash. Let's see--the left knee, that has taken all the trauma since I was nine? Badly skinned as a child, ACL surgery, skinned again during the Rafting Trip O' Doom in North Carolina when we all fell out of the boat? Yeah, major nasty scrape all over that. Also some to the side of it. Left elbow is scraped all to hell. I scraped the last three knuckles of my left hand. I also, somehow, got part of my right ankle. I have some interesting bruises along my back and ribs.
BUT I AM NOTHING IF NOT HARD CORE! I took my morning bike ride, baby! And it was nice. A burrowing owl swooped thisclose to my face; I listened to "Tiny Dancer" as the sun came up. I was not eaten by a cougar.
Once I got home, Scott helped to patch me up and off I went to the doctor. This is a new doctor, and she and I have been in discussions regarding my lack of spleen and what that means for my bloodwork results (yay, constant high white cell count); yesterday she was reassured that, yes, this is normal for me, so I'm glad about that.
But. There is always a but. I have a nice vitamin D deficiency going.
(waits for the "Whaaaa?" to fade out. Also points out this is the second round of bloodwork, so I'm feeling pretty confident in the results.)
That's right, all you pale-skinned northern kids can take your porcelain complections and go home--I'm so hardcore I have a vitamin D deficiency in the goddamned sunshine state. If I wasn't honorary goth before, I am now.
The googling about what lack of vitamin D can cause was quite interesting--I am most looking forward to the possibility that I'll be able to sleep through the night again once this gets straightened out--and I'm on a once a week dose of prescription vitamin D. This might take a year to regulate (woot?), but that just means an entire year of inappropriate "D" jokes from David and Jason, so hey.
There are a gazillion possible reasons as to how or why I am, in this way, deficient as a human. I have no idea what really caused it: my tendency toward layering? My lack of exterior windows at this job and the last one? Too much sunblock? Age and weight? My hatred of the hideous light of the daystar? Who knows.
So, in the end, that's me. Everything hurts, possibly because of lack of ... um ... D (heheheheh), certainly because I remain a klutz, but my sense of humor is intact and I get out of "let the child climb on you like a human jungle gym" until the scabs clear up.